“You still don’t get it, do you?”
I push up, ignoring the way his hand tries to put pressure on my head to keep me where I am.
Not today, bucko.
“What am I not getting? You deserve better than what I can give you. I can’t say those words back. I won’t say those words back.”
He just smiles at me. Where’s a fork when you need one? “I don’t want you to say them back when you don’t need them.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why aren’t you worried? We are basically friends with benefits.”
“Nah, I’m not the benefit. You’re the one I’ve been waiting around for. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up. And when that day comes, well, I’m hoping you do me the honour of marrying me, but since that’s a touchy subject we don’t have to talk about that right now.”
“Dean-”
“I’m a grown man – most of the time. I know what I’m getting into. I know what your deal is, and I’m going to try and help you fix it, get through it, whatever you want to do. Why do you think I said yes that day, kitten? Why did I say I wanted to hang out with you when all you caused me was misery?”
“Because I’m hot?”
Dean laughs, getting crinkles at his eyes. “Yeah, baby. You’re beautiful, no denying that. You’re also fierce, and strong, and an incredibly hard-worker. But you hide behind a wall, scared to death of living, of loving. That might just be a job for Carter-man! Cheesy, I know, but let’s see this through?”
“You really love me?” I ask him, incapable of understanding. This was never meant to be for me, this relationship shit, love, it just wasn’t meant to be. And I was okay with that, until I ended hitting a Viking with a car. Until he did something to my heart and made me want to live again.
“Guess you’re stuck with me for the next little while, then.”
“That’s my girl. Now, what do I have to do to get you to make me a sandwich, or maybe seven of them?”
“You know, I was going to introduce my lips to your cock, but then you had to go and open your mouth and say that. Junior here looks mighty disappointed.”
Dean’s eyes open wide, his nostrils flare as my hand creeps closer and closer to his dick. I move back a little, and turn my head towards his stomach, watching my progress, watching every single nuance of muscle contract and pull in a way that has them arrowing towards my destination. Dean’s getting harder by the second, his entire length slowly standing at attention for me.
My teeth nip a piece of skin on his ribs, making his entire body jerk just about the same time I get my hand wrapped around him. His hips roll, up and down, moving his length in opposition with the movement of my hand.
I grin.
I squeeze him on the way down, increasing pressure, increasing speed as his legs start contracting, the ropes of muscle in his quads standing out.
“Kitten, torture is not nice,” he groans, moving in my hand. I watch him move, feel the answering ache between my legs, scissoring them to get some sort of relief.
“I told you you were going to pay.”
“Fuck, if you do this to me every time, I’ll never stop telling you I love you.”
I start twisting my hand, his hips start moving faster, tighter movements as he groans, and says my name like it’s going to make me stop. I don’t want to stop.
“Katie,” he groans, pulsing in my hand, his body pushing him harder to get what it wants.
He’s so gorgeous like this, hips grinding into my hand. I’m burning just by looking at him. I push myself up, looking down at the entire length of his body, his face a mask of sweet agony as I stroke him towards what he needs.
When he comes, his muscles tense for a whole minute before he lets them go, his entire body one taut string that’s about to snap. He relaxes briefly, green eyes lost and hazy. Dean looks at me with such conviction that I can’t help but have a sliver of belief that I may be able to tell him I love him, too.
Just not today.
Who knows about the future?
Chapter 27
“Hey, Dad,” I say, leaning in to kiss my father’s cheek. He gives me a smile, and grabs my hand to kiss it. He’s sitting in his favourite chair, a beat up La-Z-Boy that’s older than I am back home in the house I grew up in. As always, he’s sitting in front of the TV, watching a Juventus game and swearing whenever he thinks they don’t so something right.
My childhood home was too big for the three of us, and we had a cleaning lady when I was growing up who became like family. I should track Lucia down, see how she’s doing. Try to make amends for the brat I was during my parents’ divorce.