Page 103 of Misguided
“Put it on. You’ll get cold.”
I stare him down, bleeding every ounce of venom I can into my gaze as I will him to back the fuck off. “What changed? Huh?” I shake my head. “Got what you wanted from me already?”
He moves to his knees, the sweatshirt still thrust at my chest. “Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.”
“What else am I to think? You didn’t care what anyone thought before, so why now?”
I’m suddenly acutely aware of everything around us as the tension intensifies: the crackle of the dying fire, the shadows it casts on the walls of the tent, his breathing, mine, and the undeniable pull that has us leaning into each other despite the fact I’m waiting for one of us to throw the first punch.
“Because,” he pushes out, “maybe he’s right? I’m worried that if I keep rushin’ you along, you’ll just think I’m only after the end goal, babe. I want you to know that I’m serious. I want you to know you’re different.”
His fist full of material hits my chest as I lean far enough toward him, his free hand dropping to the tent floor to steady himself as he tilts off balance. I push back, he leans in, and without another word being uttered we agree on the only logical end to this stand off.
The sweatshirt hits the side of the tent with a rebound, settling on the floor near my knee as I scoot forward and climb onto Dog’s lap. He sits back on his heels, using his large hands to jerk my hips forward, toward his. A gasp leaves my lips as his still hard length presses against me, a wicked grin spreading over his lush lips as he grinds me purposefully against it.
“Show me,” I demand, letting my head drop back wantonly as he runs his nose up my throat. “Show me why I’m different.”
He presses a kiss to my jugular before answering. “Are you sure?” I wilt as he circles his tongue around the same spot. “I don’t want you sayin’ yes just because it’s what I want.” He chuckles. “You know if it were up to me, woman, I’d marry you tomorrow.”
“I want this, too, Dog.” His hair runs like silk between my fingers as I comb through it. “I want you.”
With one strong hand pressed between my shoulders, he arches my body effortlessly, offering my chest up to him to be devoured. And he does, kissing a path from my throat to between my breasts, reaching up with his free hand to release them from the constriction of my bra, only to then feast on the hard nipples with a deft tongue and caressing lips.
My arms drop behind me, my body lax as he rewards me with the kind of touch I haven’t known for years. Straight up adoration.
It makes me hunger to return the favor.
“Lie down, babe.” Dog gently lowers the arm he holds behind me, letting me fall to the floor in a controlled manner as he helps me push up the bed roll to lie out straight. I arch my back as he fiddles with the clasp of my bra, lifting one shoulder and then the other to help him slip it off. He rocks back on his heels again as he sets the black garment aside, his lips curled up on the side as he peruses what’s laid out before him: me.
“I get why your chapter’s so screwed up, babe.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “Would have been fuckin’ torture seein’ you every day and knowin’ I wasn’t allowed to touch—enough to drive any man crazy.”
“Life’s dull without a little madness,” I smirk at him, sure it would have felt the same had the roles been reversed.
He lowers himself over me, propped up on one forearm as he places a kiss to my navel, then another a little higher. All I can do is stare at his mess of blond hair, my hand lifting of its own volition from beside me. I bury my fingers in the lengths, curling them to take hold of his head. Dog’s lips pull at my stomach as he smiles, still kissing his way back up to my neck.
“Bet women tug on your hair all the time,” I whisper as he places a kiss to my throat.
“Yeah.” He pushes hard on the hand that braces him and rises up over me, my fingers falling free of his locks. “But I’ve never enjoyed the pain all that much until now.”
“That so?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I let my eyes drift closed, my lips wide with a smile as he lowers himself again. Hot lips capture mine, his tongue gently stroking across the seam. I tilt my head a little, returning my hands to his head as he does the same, deepening the contact.
The adrenaline takes me by surprise; the elation of having Dog’s lips on mine, his hand carefully stroking my side, and his hips rocking into mine sending my body into overdrive.
He breaks from the kiss and rests his forehead against mine as I slowly open my eyes. Deep chocolate greets me as I meet his gaze and smile, the reaction mirrored in the tilt of his mouth.
“What?” I whisper, conscious of the fact he’s still staring, still smiling.
He blinks a couple of times, and then juts his chin forward far enough to place a chaste kiss to my lips. “Making memories, babe. That’s all.”
My palms skate over his bare back, the heat in my cheeks a dead giveaway of how deeply that simple statement got to me. The truth of how he feels is right there before me if I look for it: if all he wanted was another notch on his belt, he wouldn’t care for sentiments and meaningful looks. I would have been lucky to lose any more clothes before he dove straight to the point of the exercise. Yet, here he is, telling me sweet nothings as he runs a gentle fingertip along the side of my face.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I push my head back into the bedding so I can see his face clearer.
He looks down, away from my eyes, and smiles. “I wanted the time to be right,” he murmurs, “but I don’t know if it ever will be, if it’ll ever be perfect enough for what you deserve.”