The Resistance(15)

The song speaks of winding roads, shadows and souls… I’m flipped onto the mattress. Dalton’s inside me again, moving over me. Our bodies become slick with sweat, emotions begin swirling between us. Feelings that this could be more than just one night plant themselves like seeds in the depths of my mind.

I close my eyes to block the thought that I might actually be able to save this beautiful man from his demons. The here and now. Focus on how amazing this man makes you feel and the passion he puts into every thrust. The here and now. He pushes my hair back from my cheek and leans down to kiss it. Slowly sliding down my chest, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking.

The here and now.

The here and now.

My eyes fly open as a sharp pain shoots across my skin as I realize he bit me.

“You still here?” he asks.

“I’m here,” I say, my voice coming in raspy, making me want to clear it, but I resist.

Dalton moves back up, but doesn’t break our connection. He’s starting to feel like he was always a part of me. His kisses are gentle. I open my mouth and our tongues meet. It’s not our first kiss, but this time feels different, more real. The fun of this fling feeling less like a temporary good time, the line blurred along the way.

Running my nails down his back, I stop when I reach his ass and encourage him to start moving again. He does as he moves his hands into my hair and around to the back of my neck, lifting me so my head drops back onto the pillow, leaving my throat exposed to him. His tongue licks me from the base of my neck to my chin. Holding me close, he rolls over placing me on top. Gripping me by my ass, he scoots up the bed, putting his back against the headboard while I straddle him.

I take hold of the headboard and as he tastes the tender skin between my breasts, I fuck him. We make our own music, sounds derived from pleasure and bare skin sliding together.

Wrapping his arms under mine, he holds onto me and slams harder, but I want faster and fight his strength. I can tell he’s close just like me. It’s his expression—the one that teeters between pain and gratification—that sends me, my orgasm hitting hard and I cry out his name. My body trembles around him and he grinds harder. I catch sight of him. He’s biting his bottom lip and his eyes are squeezed shut when he calls out, “Angel. Fuck.”

Continuing with a few more small gyrates, he holds me just as tight. I rest my forehead against the headboard and bring my hands down to his neck, moving up until I’m cupping his face. Leaning back just enough to look him in the eyes, I see cloudy greens lending themselves more toward hazel in the aftermath of our activities. I kiss his lips. Then again.

And once more.

Dalton holds my face between his hands and brings me lower, closer, and kisses each of my eyelids then my nose, and stops against my lips. “You showed me Heaven,” he whispers.

“And you gave me Hell,” I reply with a lazy grin.

He smiles and it feels like the most genuine moment we’ve shared. While I know intimate details about Jack Dalton, I don’t know him at all. The man is shrouded in mystery and his protective armor is thick. But in this moment, we’re just a girl and a guy sharing something special, something spectacular created from our union  .

The phone vibrates on the nightstand and he picks it up to read the message. With the phone in hand, he sighs heavily, his gaze drifting back over to the clock beside the bed. Our moment is lost, the façade of whatever cover he gave me earlier back in place. My disappointment was inevitable.

“I need to leave soon and I have to shower,” he says, looking away from me.

I remain, still situated on top of him, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. The seconds pass and I don’t want to be the cause of any awkwardness.

Lifting up, I swing my leg over and walk to the bathroom. Trying to sound like tonight didn’t change me, I say, “Yeah, no worries. I’ll get out of here. Maybe I can borrow your robe?”

“Take the robe. Keep it.”

I shut the bathroom door and fall back against it, willing the tears to stay away as I try to swallow down the lump in my throat. I don’t understand my emotions being caught up like this. Jack Dalton is not my first one-night stand and he won’t be my last. So I need to push away the desire to see him again and get back to my life.

Grabbing the robe from the hook, I put it around me. The collar smelling like Dalton and I find some comfort that I’ll have this piece of him and the memories of our rendezvous long after I leave Vegas.

After freshening up, I walk out. No sappy emotions remain dwelling on my face. My normal confidence is back in place. He’s got jeans on, hanging low, the fly only half-way buttoned-up. His right arm across his chest as he holds his left shoulder and all signs of light in his eyes are dark like the room. Outside the large, picturesque windows, the Strip still sparkles like it did when I came up here, like nothing has changed.