Weathering the Storm by Brynn Paulin

 

 

 

Chapter Three

~ Heller ~

Did Becca just offer what I thought she offered? Did that car hit me? Was I dead or lying in a coma somewhere? This was one of my many fantasies coming to life. Only in my fantasies, I wasn’t looking like a drowned rat, clammy clothes clinging to me.

Still, I stepped away from the door and let it shut behind me, closing Becca and me in together. We stared at each other in silence. I just couldn’t believe how much prettier she was in person. Her hair was tousled, and she didn’t have a bit of makeup on her face. She looked damn adorable in those cute little pajamas.

And she’d just implied that she wanted to have sex with me.

“Is…um… Is this like a fantasy thing for you? Or something you do? Order delivery and—”

“No! Oh my God! I should have known I’d mess this up. I’ve never, uh, propositioned anyone before or asked in the person delivering my food. It’s you. I mean…”

That was enough for me. Leaning forward, holding her upper arms and keeping my wet body away from her, I pressed a kiss to her lips. So soft. Fuck me. She was all sweetness and spice and softness, all in one tiny package. Becca moaned, going to her toes and trying to get closer to me.

“Heller,” she cajoled, her palms going to my chest.

“I’ll get you all wet,” I murmured.

“Too late. One-hundred percent chance of wetness,” she replied, but color bloomed in her cheeks, telling me she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

My hands ran down her arms as I stepped back and unzipped my coat. Shrugging it off, I hung it from the knob of her front door. Then I turned back to her, finding her stare had been on my butt. She quickly lifted her eyes away, but it wasn’t fast enough that I didn’t see.

My dick immediately responded, throbbing against my zipper. I hoped with my untucked polo and her gaze on my face, she didn’t see my erection trying to say hello. Of course, wasn’t that kind of what she’d asked for?

Already, my arms ached to pull her against me, as if I’d done it a million times. But I hadn’t. Not even once. Except in my dreams where I’d made love to her a hundred times. Not once had I imagined a situation like this where I was damp and clammy all over from the day’s rain.

Her tongue swept over her lips again as she watched me, and damn, just like that, I needed to kiss her once more. Really kiss her and explore her mouth…her body. I craved her, and I wasn’t letting my soggy condition get in the way of what I’d wanted for over a year. But I didn’t want some one-off fling. Did that make me weak? Less manly?

My body had control, though. I was pulling off my shirt and heading toward her before my brain could register what I was doing and talk me out of it.

“Becca, are you sure?” I asked. This might be my dream come true, but I didn’t want it to become a nightmare because she didn’t mean it or she changed her mind.

“Yeah,” she agreed, unbuttoning the top of her flannel pajamas and revealing an enticing sliver of skin where the sides fell open but hid her breasts. Still, I got a devastatingly beautiful view of creamy skin from the cleft at the base of her throat, through the valley between her breasts down past her cute navel and to the waistband of her adorable pants. Her fingers curled on the edge then shoved. They pooled at her ankles, leaving her in lacy white boy-short panties as she stepped free.

I wasn’t sure I was even breathing anymore. Probably not, if the spots peppering my vision meant anything. I sucked in a deep gulp of air, trying to steel myself. I had to make this good for her. This was my chance.

Standing there in just that scrap of lace and her opened shirt, she watched me while my gaze devoured her.

“You’re more fucking beautiful than I ever imagined,” I told her. “Gorgeous.”

“I…” She huffed a laugh. “My boss is always harping on me to lose weight.”

“Obviously a stupid asshole.”

“Obviously. Are you…are you going to take off your pants?”

“Eventually.” Stepping close, I scooped her into my arms, and she clutched at my shoulders, with a squeal. Almost on cue, the lights flickered then went out.

“Shoot,” she murmured.

“We don’t need lights for what we’re doing,” I assured her as if I were a pro, which I definitely wasn’t. “Which way to your bedroom?”

“The open door there. The other door is the bathroom.”

I headed for it. Despite the hour and lack of power, I didn’t have any trouble seeing. In fact, the near-constant flashes of lightning seemed to illuminate things well. It was almost like being in a film where they wanted to show you there was sex happening, but yet not, so the director used strobes.

This could have easily been a fantasy like that, but Becca’s skin against mine was warm and one-hundred-percent real.

Her fingers forked into my hair and our mouths fused together as I tumbled us onto the mattress. I crawled over her, so I straddled her small body, holding myself away on an arm while I cupped the back of her head and returned the frantic kiss.

“Heller, please,” she whispered against my mouth. I felt her legs rubbing together, trying to relieve some of her arousal and suddenly I craved a taste of her there more than anything else in the world. I was getting my mouth on Becca and owning her.

Breaking free from our kiss, I started down her body toward her core, but was waylaid when I remembered her open shirt. Peeling back the sides, I revealed her small, pert breasts, the taut nipples begging for my mouth. Cupping one mound in my hand, I brought my lips to it and sucked. My tongue lashed over the peak while she writhed under me. Her hands clutched my shoulders, her nails digging in with the sweetest pain. My God, I wanted her claw marks down my back. I wanted to feel her for days just as I hoped she’d feel me.

Yeah…I wanted her to remember me with every step she took, remember who owned her body, who would always give her all the pleasure she could bear.

“Better than candy,” I muttered, before diving down to take the other nipple.

“Heller, you’re making me crazy. I can’t…”

“Are you gonna come? From me doing this?” I sucked again before pulling back with a light scrape of my teeth. “From this man you don’t know, who’s getting your body ready for him to fuck, to command, to own?”

I didn’t know where the fuck these words were coming from, but I didn’t disagree with them.

“Yes, Heller,” she whispered.

“Tell me you’re mine,” I demanded.

She stared up at me, breathing hard but not saying anything, and I was afraid maybe, I’d pushed her too far. Then her arms dropped to the mattress, her wrists just beside my hands. I adjusted so my fingers manacled them, and she moaned arching beneath me.

“Yes, I’m yours.”

Fuck. If I was really in a coma, I never ever wanted to wake up.