I CHANGED into jeans and a T-shirt after taking a shower and sat down on the bed to wait for Rand to bring me some food. I must have dozed off again, because when I woke up, Rand was sitting up in bed beside me, on top of the quilt with me under it, flipping channels and eating a sandwich off a paper plate.
“I thought you were getting something for me?” I asked, sitting up beside him so that we were shoulder to shoulder.
He said something with his mouth full as he pointed with the remote control to the other side of me. On the nightstand was a plate with a sandwich and chips on it and a huge glass of iced tea. The glass was cold, so it had just arrived.
“Thank you,” I said as I rolled toward it.
He just grunted.
“Remember you have to chew,” I told him as I started on my sandwich.
He ignored me, flipped the channels some more, and then turned to look at me.
It was my turn to talk with my mouth full. “What?”
“Why didn’t you just call me or Char to come get you from the hospital?”
“I didn’t want Charlotte to worry, and honestly, I didn’t even think of calling you.”
“Why not?”
“Probably because we’ve only been on speaking terms for, like, a minute.”
He shrugged. “Sure, but you gotta know that in an emergency, all bets are off.”
I just looked at him.
Slowly, the wariness filled his eyes, and I watched his brows furrow. “Wait, you do know that if you needed me… whenever, that I would show up.”
“What?”
“You do know that, right?”
“No.”
He was genuinely surprised. “I’ve known you over ten years, Stefan. You’re my little sister’s best friend; how do you not get that you can count on me?”
“What does my relationship with Charlotte have to do with you?”
He stared at me, and I could tell he was trying to figure something out.
“Are you being serious?” His eyes were darkening.
“Sure. Me and Char have nothing to do with you and me.”
“Is that right?”
The way he said it, like he was hurt, I sort of wanted to take it back.
“Screw you,” he said as he climbed off the bed.
“Wait, why’re you pissed at me?”
He turned and pointed at me. “It’s nice how little you think of me.”
“Rand—”
He turned for the door.
“Wait.”
But he left, slamming the door behind him. I had no idea what was going on.
I tried to just watch TV, but the fact that I knew he was mad at me, for whatever reason, nagged at me. Normally, the man being annoyed was a good thing. Once, I would have basked in the knowledge that I had pushed his buttons, driven him to explosive anger. But it was different suddenly, so sleep was not a possibility. I headed downstairs to find him.
There was a small group sitting around, talking, telling stories, eating, drinking, and laughing. They were back from being out, and I realized that I must have slept a lot longer than I thought. I saw Rand sitting between two guys I had met the other night, but I couldn’t recall their names. As I crossed to them, Charlotte called my name.
I went to her, and she slipped her hand into mine as she let her head fall back to look at my face.
“Sit here by me.”
I let her pull me down, and after she was done grilling me about how I felt, she turned back to her bridesmaids and continued the conversation she’d been having before I showed up. She was sharing some wild and crazy moments from her past. I glanced over at Rand, but he was talking with others. I realized it had been a mistake to come downstairs. He wasn’t going to let me talk to him and was in fact doing his best to ignore me.
Charlotte’s mom brought me some tea, which I appreciated, as the girls had started talking about the sluttiest things they had ever done. Whoever thinks that men talk dirty has never listened to a bunch of women let loose. I have a theory that because women are better with details that they can do graphic a hundred times better. When someone shook my leg, I opened my eyes and found Charlotte smiling at me.
“Yes?”
Five sets of lovely eyes looked at me.
“Have you ever been tied up, Stef?”
“You know I have,” I told the bride-to-be.
“Were you scared?” another bridesmaid asked me.
“No.” I smiled at her.
“Ever been handcuffed?”
“Yes.”
There were squeals of delight.
“Have you ever tied anyone up?”
“Yes.”
Even more giggling as they all leaned in close to me.
“Was it fun?”
I arched an eyebrow for them. I didn’t need to answer.
They erupted in laughter as someone brought over a board game. I started to get up, but Charlotte insisted, since I was feeling better, that I be on her team as a silent partner. I was going to beg off when Rand took a seat on the couch beside me. He was going to play, so I stayed where I was.
I paid attention, leaning forward, listening to categories being read and people try to come up with the answers. After the third time around, I looked up and noticed Ben staring at me. His eyes were flat, cold, and when I turned to Charlotte, she just gave me a quick shake of her head. What the hell?
“Maybe being the caretaker of secrets is overrated, huh, Stefan?” Rand asked, leaning in close to me. “Whaddya think?”
“Shit,” I groaned softly, face down in my hands, closing my eyes.
His hand was on my neck, massaging, his fingers working up the back of my head into my hair. It felt so much better than good, and I let out a deep breath.
“You should go to bed.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Why?”
I rolled my head sideways to look at him. “I had no idea that you could separate us being assholes to each other to us being friends. I’ve never had that, so I didn’t know.”
He was studying my eyes, and after several minutes, he nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay? You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
His hand slid back down to my shoulder and then off, as he had to roll the dice. Everyone talked, Ben’s mother brought out photo albums, and there were funny, embarrassing stories to be shared. I listened, liking the banter, the family moments.
“Stefan, honey.” Ben’s mother looked at me. “Where’s your family?”
I turned and looked at Charlotte. She waved.
“I don’t understand?”
“I left home at fourteen. I never went back.”
Her eyes were huge. “How do you leave home at fourteen?”
I shrugged. “My folks got divorced when I was three or so, and I never saw my dad again. When I was fourteen, my mom married this guy who really couldn’t stand me, so… he threw me out, and she let him.”
She looked horrified.
“It was a long time ago,” I said.
“But I—”
“He got a job, he went to school, and he lived with a lot of different friends… he did it,” Charlotte cut her off. “And then he went to college and met me. Voilà, instant family.”
Ben’s mom stared at me. “Have you spoken to her at all since you left?”
“No, ma’am, she passed,” I told her. “Charlotte went with me to the funeral.”
“Which you paid for,” Charlotte added.
There was a long, suffocating silence. I felt like I was on display.
“Come here and hug me,” Ben’s mom said, motioning me over to her.
She wanted to comfort me. It was very sweet.
I declined more offers of food as a tray of pastries was brought out along with hot chocolate. The yawning was impossible to stifle, my eyes too heavy to keep open. All the inactivity was making me lethargic. Usually at ten on a Thursday night, I was done with dinner, moving on to clubbing and screwing. There was always someone new to take home and then ask to leave before morning.
“Scoot over.”
They were making room for more people on the couch. Charlotte got up, and I moved to the end of the sectional, which was shadowed in the corner of the room. It was relaxing until Rand crowded up against me.
“So,” he said, his mouth suddenly next to my ear, his breath hot down the side of my neck, “would you like me to tie you up?”
Taken off guard, I shivered from his words and his closeness.
“I figured,” he said as his fingers slid up under the back of my T-shirt to touch my bare skin, which was now covered in goose bumps.
So slight a movement and so very erotic. I almost jumped up, and everyone looked at me oddly.
“Headache,” I said, pressing a hand to my forehead before I walked out of the room.
He caught up to me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Stef.”
I spun around to face him. “You’re being an ass, for whatever reason.”
His jaw clenched as he stared at me.
“Fuckin’ fix it,” I told him, turning around and heading upstairs without another word.
In my room, I yanked off my T-shirt and ran water and gel through my hair before crossing to the dresser to find a new shirt. I had to get out of there, go somewhere and drink, find somebody, and get laid. If I stayed, I would just climb the walls.
“Stefan!”
I didn’t answer.
Another call came through the door after more knocking, which I ignored.
“Stefan!” he yelled for the third time.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t say ‘yeah’!” he yelled. “Open the goddamn door!”
“Fuck you, Rand!”
Momentary silence before his voice softened. He was right up against the door. “Lemme in, please.”
“Screw you!”
“Please, Stef.”
“What the fuck is going on with you? Are you fucking with me on a bet?”
“No.” His voice cracked, lowered. “Please just open the door.”
“I’m goin’ out. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You are not going out… no fuckin’ way.”
Obviously the man had lost his mind. “Are you high?” I asked as I opened the door.
He nearly fell in on me.
“What are you doing?” I snapped at him, shifting to take a step back to give him room.
He grabbed hold of my bicep to still my movement. “I was an idiot. Forgive me.”
“Which time?” I barked back, peeling his hand off me, shoving him away.
“You’re really mad, huh?” he asked, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Now what the fuck are you doing? I’m going out,” I announced, moving around him to reach the door.
He stepped in front of me.
“Move.”
He blocked my exit, arms spread. “I need you here, Stef. Right here.”
I knew the look. Charlotte had the same one. He wasn’t going to move without a fight.
Throwing up my hands, I pivoted around and went back to the dresser. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s true.”
I took deep breaths, calming as I looked for the shirt that would get me laid. “Can you please just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?”
There was no sound.
“You’re never hot and cold, you’re usually just cold.”
“I know,” he breathed out. “I work at it.”
Whatever the hell that meant. “Is there something going on at home? Is the ranch in trouble?”
“No.”
I looked back over my shoulder at him. “Then what is it?”
He crossed the room to stand close to me. “What are you looking for?”
“A new shirt.”
“Why? I already told you you’re not going anywhere.”
I exhaled sharply and turned to look at him as he leaned on the dresser. “Is the wedding bumming you out? Are you thinking about when you were married?”
“No, but Jesus, your mind goes a lotta places, huh?”
I squinted at him.
“I like you worrying about me.”
“Why?”
“Just do.”
“Please, Rand.” I sighed, at a loss as to what was going on. “What are you worried about?”
“I’m not worried,” he said flatly. “I just have a problem.” His eyes were so dark, studying me.
“You’re drivin’ me nuts. Either tell me or get the fuck out.”
“You are a heartless creature, Stefan Joss.”
I grunted, pulling out a tight, black short-sleeved shirt, ready to put it on. “It’s true.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, snatching the shirt away, balling it up and throwing it on the bed.
I tilted my head as I looked at him. “Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”
His smile was instant, and it warmed his eyes, made them look like melting jewels. “You can do that, can you? Fix whatever ails me?”
“I just want to help if I can.”
“All right.”
Pleased that he had finally agreed, I crossed back to the bed to retrieve my shirt. I didn’t expect to be shoved from behind so I went facedown onto the quilt.
“Better.”
I rolled over on my back to look up at him. “What the fuck?”
“Oh.” He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw working. “Look at your eyes.”
My eyes… my brain stumbled. He was not playing by our rulebook, and I was at a loss as to what was going on in his head.
“Come here,” he said, one knee on the bed as he reached for me.
“Oh shit.” I jerked to my feet, his chin colliding with my chest as I scrambled off the bed, moving faster than I had thought I could. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He was smiling, and I saw how big and wide it was as he moved his jaw and rubbed where I’d clipped it.
I backed away, not taking my eyes off him. “Rand?”
His turquoise eyes were so dark they looked wet, the smile had become very sexy, and the way his gaze raked over me from head to toe… what the hell? Had I missed that he was drunk?
“Rand, are you drunk?”
He motioned me to him. “I’m so tired of fighting… just c’mere.”
“Are you stoned?” Maybe he was stoned.
He shook his head. “Please come here.”
“Rand,” I said, feeling somehow naked standing there in just my jeans. “Do you have any idea what you’re do—”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
But I didn’t think he did. “Rand, I think you need to sit down.”
“That ain’t what I need,” he husked.
“Are you serious?” I blurted as he rose off the bed and started toward me.
“I don’t know. I don’t know about anything right now. All I do know is that I need you so I won’t feel like this no more. I’m so sick of feeling like this.”
Wait. What? “I’m sorry, what?”
He laughed softly. “You heard me.”
“No, I don’t think I did,” I assured him. “See, because for starters, you’re straight.”
He nodded. “I am straight, with one seemingly very large exception.”
I shook my head. “Listen, if you need to experiment, you—”
“It’s not an experiment.”
“That’s bullshit. How could it be anything else but—”
“’Cause of how I feel.”
He looked absolutely miserable and happy all at the same time. What in the world was going on? How could I have missed all this?
“Ask me how I feel.”
“I… okay. How do you feel?”
“Sick,” he confessed, reaching for me, lifting his hand to place his palm over my heart. “Every time I met some new guy you were fuckin’, every time I saw you leave with somebody as I came in, every time… it killed me. I remember at Charlotte’s graduation party, you were dancing with your boyfriend, some guy you dumped like a month later, but that night…. I was so fuckin’ jealous of him ’cause you were all over him and it made me sick. It’s been killing me since that first day when I walked in and you looked up at me and it was like I got hit by lightning.”
I was stunned. What could I say? I thought he hated me. I had always thought he hated me.
“The way you smiled that day was… but I was scared, so scared, and you were young, Stef, but so was I,” he flared, irritated at me. “You forget that I was young too.”
“Rand, what are you—”
“I was only twenty-one, and I… I mean, how could I want you and still be me? There was no way.”
My mind worked fast. “So you insulted me.”
He nodded. “It was easy.”
It had been easy, and I could own that piece years later. “I used to be hotheaded.”
“You still are.”
It was true.
“But then I wanted to fix it, but you wouldn’t even talk to me, and then after a few years, you stopped even seeing me. Now it’s like I’m a ghost.”
“I ignore you.”
“You try to.”
“You make it hard,” I conceded. He was always such an ass to me, almost like he went out of his way to get in his digs.
“I try my damndest.”
“What are you talking about?”
He was silent, his eyes locked on mine.
At once, I understood. “All those times we… you… you did that on purpose? You picked those fights deliberately?”
He gave me a quick shrug. “If you were pissed at me, I knew you still cared enough to be mad. At least it was somethin’.”
The confession left me reeling. Ten years of guerilla warfare with Rand Holloway and I had been the only one really fighting? “I don’t know what to—”
“You know Charlotte used to come home and talk about you and all the men in and out of your bed, and I’d think how lucky I was that I didn’t ever get near you.”
My track record was bad, there was no denying it. I changed men like I changed clothes; the second they became clinging, I needed air.
“But how you are with Char, how loyal you are, what she tells me you’re like with your friends…. I know how you really are, Stef. I’ve seen your heart in the way you are with her and with my mom. I see you.”
Shit.
“And the way you look at me with those eyes of yours just about burns me up.”
I had no idea what I was supposed to say.
“When you’re really mad,” he said, smiling sheepishly, raking his fingers through his thick hair, “your eyes get this color green that”—quick breath—“it’s really somethin’, is all.”
What was something was that he was nervous, really nervous, and I was the cause.
“Fighting with you was all I had, you know?”
He had deliberately fought with me, antagonized me, and picked apart me and everything I did. The battles we had waged over the years, the words that had flown between us and the insults hurled… I had to wonder about the man. How had he always been able to push my buttons? I never got mad at anyone the way I did Rand Holloway. Maybe there was a reason?
“I know I should have told you all this before now.” He sighed, fiddling with my hair, curling a long piece around my ear. “But you’re not the easiest person in the world to talk to.” The back of his fingers ran up my throat under my chin. “And besides… you hate me.”
I took a step back and bumped into the wall behind me. I had thought to move beyond his reach, to get his hand to slide off me, but he wasn’t having it.
“Look at you all flustered.” He smiled down into my eyes.
Again I tried to lean out of his touch, but he fisted his hand in my hair. It was way too long, hitting my shoulders, but at that moment I was so glad.
“I always wanted to do this, put my hands in your hair.”
My heart hurt.
He ran his hands down my chest. “And touch your skin.”
I had to try to breathe. “Rand—”
“You sound like you’re dying.”
“I just—”
“You know how sick I am of watching other people touch you?”
I was silent.
“Charlotte and Ben and all the girls downstairs, everybody wants to touch you all the time. I’m the only one who can’t when I want to be the only one that can.”
The shudder tore through me, and I couldn’t stop it.
“Kiss me,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, absorbing me. “Just once. If it’s bad, if I freak out or if you do… fine, we’ll forget all this.”
It wasn’t a good idea.
“Come on, you have nothing to lose.”
“I have you to lose, and I just got you,” I confessed, terrified.
“You’ll never lose me, I swear.”
His hand slid around the nape of my neck, and I felt the strong fingers massaging gently as he eased me forward. His mouth hovered over mine, and he took a sharp intake of breath before he pressed the length of his body against me.
“Kiss me.” His breath ghosted over my face.
I leaned in and plastered my mouth to his, harder and faster than I ever had before, trying to show him how fierce and grinding it was to kiss a man in comparison to the softness of kissing a woman. But he knew, somehow he knew what I was up to; his smile told me so, as well as the long, contented sigh. When his lips parted over mine, his tongue gliding into my mouth, his hands clutching at my skin, my legs nearly went out on me. I had never been kissed with so much yearning and so much heat. His kiss sent shivers rippling through me, making me tremble in his arms.
“I knew you would taste good,” his voice rumbled in his chest. “And I knew kissing you would feel right.”
“Then kiss me again,” I urged him without thinking.
The second kiss was devouring, and I gave as good as I got, licking, biting, sucking, not letting him go, not letting him breathe. I felt his hand slide down the front of my jeans, under the waistband of my briefs, and fist around my hard, throbbing cock. I broke the kiss then as electricity tore through me, needing air, needing to get my bearings. He tried to follow me as I pulled back, but I reached up and put a hand on his collarbone.
“Stop,” I breathed out, taking in gulps of air.
His eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth curling in the corner as he looked at me. “I can feel your heart beating in your cock,” he said, leaning in to bite the curve of my shoulder where it met my neck. “I need to taste you.”
“Stop,” I panted, feeling his words in the pit of my stomach.
“I don’t wanna stop,” he said, his voice hoarse, deep. “I just wanna touch you.”
“Rand—”
“Stop fighting,” he said, his fingers moving fast to unsnap the top button of my jeans, the zipper succumbing next. Opening the flaps, he pushed my jeans and briefs down fast with his one hand, the other still wrapped around my shaft. “Just let me have you.”
He went to his knees and took me into his mouth. I smiled when he gagged, watched him look up at me with a mischievous grin, and then gasped when he instantly tried again. In seconds, he learned not to take all of me in at once, to use his hand and his lips together to make me catch my breath. He licked and sucked, and it was the worst and best blowjob I ever had. His utter joy, the way he surrendered himself so completely to his desire, and how wet and hot his mouth was, all of it nearly pushed me over the edge.
When I shoved him back, he looked like I’d hit him. The look was replaced instantly with wonder when I pulled him to his feet and pushed him down on the bed. I made quick work of his belt, his briefs and jeans yanked to his knees before I went to mine in front of the cock I had uncovered. It was beautiful, long, thick, and cut, the color a deep golden brown, and it was completely stiff and waiting for me. The musky smell of him and the bead of precome at the end of the flared head were intoxicating. When I took him into my mouth, the groan he let out was hoarse and deep.
“Jesus.” He writhed under me, clutching at my hair as I swallowed him down, deep-throating him with practiced ease. I give a killer blowjob, and the way he called my name let me know that I was driving him out of his mind. “God… Stef, you gotta stop, I don’t wanna… I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”
I had no intention of stopping. The end to wanting Rand Holloway was in sight. The man I had lusted after since I was eighteen years old was lying under me, the hard silky length of him gliding in and out of my mouth. I wasn’t about to let him get away. I sucked harder, the suction too strong for him to keep control. His hands were in my hair as he rocked into me, fucking my mouth. I swallowed hard as my throat was suddenly coated with his thick, salty come, taking it all, leaving nothing but his quivering release. When I lifted my head, smiling wickedly, he reached for me, pulling me up to him and then down into a kiss. His mouth opened for me, and his tongue tangled with mine, sucking, tasting himself. He couldn’t get enough, arching up into me, his hands clutching at my skin.
I had to break the kiss so I could breathe. My head and my lungs were ready to explode. “We should stop… we can still stop and you can still say you’re straight.”
His smile was huge. “I don’t think so.”
“Rand, you—”
“Stef,” he growled, rolling over on top of me, kicking off his boots, shucking out of his pants, pulling and yanking and pinning me under him so I couldn’t move. Like I wanted to. I was having too much fun watching his frustration with his clothes, how disheveled and sweaty he looked, and how he had to bend his head every few seconds and lick my leaking cock. “I just want to be inside you, and I really doubt that wanting that makes me straight.”
His confession was designed to give me heart failure.
He froze suddenly, every bit of his attention locked on me. “Is that something you would let me do… be inside you?”
“Oh God, yes,” I nearly moaned.
His smile was slow as his eyes swallowed me. “I’ve seen you, you know.”
I watched his long fingers as they worked over my shaft, sliding from the base to the head as it hardened and dripped precome. Did he know how good it felt?
“I was in town once when you were going out with that guy Brett. You didn’t hear me come in. Charlotte had given me her key. You guys were in bed, and when I looked in your bedroom, I saw you.”
He was gorgeous there above me, the hard, corded muscles, washboard stomach, and beautifully sculpted chest. I had always admired the beauty of the man, his permanently tousled black hair and sexy blue eyes. I was finally free to look at him for as long as I wanted.
“You had your legs over his shoulders and his cock was buried in your ass and he was jerking you off while he fucked you.” He smiled seductively, his eyes barely open. “Let’s do that.”
I shook my head.
“Why not? Would it hurt you?”
“You hurting me is not the issue.”
“Then what?”
“Rand, if you do this and then hate me afterward, I—”
“I could never hate you,” he assured me. “What do we need?”
“Rand, you might hate—”
“Isn’t there lube or something?” he demanded.
I pointed at the nightstand, and he stretched for it, lengthening out his beautiful body but not letting me move. He wanted me right where I was.
“Listen,” he said as he settled himself back, straddling my thighs. “I haven’t been with anyone since my ex-wife Jenny, okay? I have the paper at home that says I’m clean, but you gotta take my word for it and let me skip the condom.”
I was overwhelmed. “Rand, you can’t want to—”
“Oh fuck yeah, I want to.”
I had to concentrate on breathing. “Listen, I’m clean, too, but you shouldn’t just take my word for it. I’ve been with more guys than—”
“Not anymore,” he said, leaning down to deliver a kiss that curled my toes. The man was so hot, and he really knew how to kiss me. “You’re done with anybody else.”
His words drove through me like a freight train. I didn’t like people trying to control me. But Rand….
“And I know you think I’m fulla shit right now, but you wait and see,” he said, leaning over and kissing me again, this time tenderly, his lips lingering over mine. When he pulled back, he was smiling. “Now tell me what to do.”
“Here.” I held out my hand for the tube. “Let me make you ready.”
He handed it to me, and he shivered when I popped open the lid. The man had it really bad for me, and I never had a clue.
I coated his long, beautiful cock with the lube until it glistened in the faint light from the bathroom. My fingers sliding over his hot skin were making his breath falter.
“God, that feels amazing.”
I knew it did.
“God, Stefan… please… please….”
He didn’t need to beg me. I shifted under him, staring up into his now heavy-lidded eyes. “Put your arms under my knees.”
As big and strong as he was, he lifted me effortlessly. “I want… can it be gentle next time?”
Permission needed to be given. “Yes.”
I felt the head of his cock slide slowly between my cheeks before he pressed against me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Rand.”
The thrust into me was hard and fast, and I moaned loudly as all my muscles tightened at once.
“Shit.” He sounded pained. “Oh Stef, I’m so—”
“Stop,” I ordered, wrapping my legs around him so he couldn’t pull back out. “This is part of it, Rand, just stay.”
His balls were against my ass, and his hands were on my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin. “You feel so good… and looking at you…. Jesus, Stefan.”
“Fuck me,” I begged him. “Do it now.”
He reacted instantly, filling me, driving inside so hard and so deep that I was sure that I felt him in my abdomen.
“Oh God,” he moaned, his body reacting like an electrical current had coursed through him. I was very pleased with myself for eliciting such a gut-wrenching convulsion. “Stefan.” My name came out as a raspy groan. “You’re so tight an’ hot.”
I felt the muscles in my ass clenching and tightening as he pushed in and out of me, burying himself to the hilt with each new thrust, over and over, setting a hammering pace.
“Stefan,” he repeated.
“You’re so hard, you feel so good. Move… don’t stop.”
He thrust deep inside, and I gasped, but when he checked my face, I smiled at him before asking to be fucked harder and faster still.
“I don’t wanna hurt—”
“You could never hurt me. It’s not in you.”
I saw the muscles in his jaw clench.
“What?” I teased him, lifting my knees as he leaned forward, arching my back so my legs could slide over his shoulders, bring him deeper. “I should trust you. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard, and his voice was husky and low.
“Tell me.”
“I just…. This is how I always wanted to be… inside you,” he said, bending toward me. “Kissing you… filling you up.”
The angle slid his cock over my prostate. I nearly came up off the bed. “Oh God, Rand, please.”
“Feel good?” he asked before he pushed down into me.
There were no words. Between the feel of him deep inside and knowing that it was Rand Holloway I held in my arms, I was lost. My body jerked under his, shuddering before I cried out, my head rolling back, my eyes closed as I rode out my throbbing, heart-stopping climax.
“Stefan!” He roared my name, and when I opened my eyes, I realized that he had never looked more beautiful. His body went rigid seconds later, and I felt the flood of liquid warmth in my ass.
We were silent, riding out the aftershocks, both of us trembling. When I could breathe, I looked up at him.
“Jesus Christ, I think I’m blind.”
He sounded so serious that I had to laugh at him; then he collapsed on top of me, boneless and exhausted. I ran my hands down the sweat-dampened planes of his back, letting my fingers touch his hot skin, trace his spine, feel the rippling muscles. I felt more than heard his chuckle and rolled my head to look at his face. His eyes were dark and wet, his pupils huge.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he promised, bending his head to nuzzle the side of my neck before placing gentle kisses down the column of my throat. “How could anything be wrong?”
“I just wanted it to be perfect.”
“If it was any more perfect, I’d be dead.” He exhaled deeply, pulling slowly out of my body.
I just stared at him as he lifted up off of me before leaning back down to kiss me, his mouth warm on mine.
And in that second, I was filled with a certainty that scared me to death. I broke the kiss and rolled over on my stomach. What the hell was I going to do?
He followed, rolled me over, then draped a leg between mine, and propped his head up on his elbow to look down into my face. “Freaking out?”
How was he so calm? “Yeah. Why, aren’t you?”
He nodded, the evil grin back, making his wet eyes glow.
“You’re amazing.”
“No,” he said, using his fingers to trace my eyebrow, then down my nose to my mouth. “You, my friend… you are amazing. I had no idea it would be like that.”
I squinted at him as he traced my lips.
“I have never just…. It felt good… right.”
“That’s great,” I muttered, shoving him off me, rolling to my side. “And now that your curiosity is satisfied… you need to get the hell outta my bed.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep,” I said flatly. “Just go or—”
His laughter washed over me, loud and deep and full of absolute relief.
“Fine, I’ll go,” I snapped at him, lifting up to move.
He grabbed my shoulder and pinned me down on the bed, hovering above me, his eyes locked on my face. “Don’t be an idiot. I already told you I wasn’t curious.”
“Then what the hell is going on?” I never worried after sex. I never even cared, but I had never been in bed with the man who had starred in every fantasy I’d had since I was a freshman in college.
“What’s going on is that I want to take you home with me.”
My eyes lifted to his.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited?”
I yanked him down to me, kissing him hard and deep, the kiss rough and claiming. I wanted to be gentle, but between the aching need in my chest and the overwhelming desire to make him mine, there was no way. I rolled him over and had him flat on his back seconds later. He smiled before parting his lips, sucking on my tongue, tasting me, kissing me back with as much heat as I was giving him.
“Stefan,” he gasped, shoving me off him, breaking the kiss to capture my face in his hands, holding me still so he could look at me. “After the wedding, come home with me to the ranch for a few days, okay?”
I was lost in the depth of his eyes. There was lust and heat and absolute, undeniable need.
“Please, Stef,” he said, leaning me down into him, his lips closing on my throat. “Just come see the ranch.”
“I’ll think… maybe,” I said quickly. Having him under me was making me dizzy. I just wanted to breathe him in, hold him forever.
“I want you to see how beautiful it is there.”
“Why?”
“So maybe it’ll get you thinkin’.”
“About what?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he sealed his lips over mine as he kissed me softly, tenderly, one of his hands sliding around the back of my neck, the other slipping down over my hip.
I caught my breath, and he smiled against my mouth as he rolled me over on my back, settling his big, warm, naked body over mine, pressing me down into the bed.
“You’re gonna be mine.”
“Rand.” I sighed into his shoulder, my hands sliding all over him, touching the hard muscles under the silky skin. “This is only for—”
“Stop,” he ordered me gently. “’Cause you have no idea what this is.”
I stared up into his eyes, putting a hand on the back of his neck, my fingers massaging.
“I wanna stay here with you.” He smiled before he bent and kissed me again. It was slow; he took his time, hands on my face, sliding over my brows, my cheekbones, and down my neck. “But what will Charlotte say when she walks in tomorrow morning?”
I jerked under him, and his smile was huge.
“I guess you should go,” I said without any conviction whatsoever.
He arched a brow for me, and his eyes glinted with heat. “You know, you look really good under me. I knew you would.”
“Rand—”
“I never thought guys could be… but you….” He trailed off, his eyes dropping from mine.
“Hey.”
His eyes flicked back to my face.
“Tell me.” I wanted to know everything he thought about me.
He took a breath. “I just…. I bet folks tell you all the time how beautiful you are.”
I arched an eyebrow for him.
“I knew it,” he breathed out, and I saw how heavy-lidded his eyes were before he rose over me, parting my thighs with his knee. “You know you’re gorgeous.”
“Rand, you gotta—”
“I never knew that men could be beautiful, Stefan. Not like this, not like you.” He trailed off before he suddenly bent and took my hardening cock into his mouth. It was fast; I didn’t even have time to think.
“Rand,” I almost yelled, trembling under his hands, nearly coming up off the bed.
His mouth on me was ravaging, and as I stared at him, watching his lips move over my skin, feeling the hot, liquid heat swallow me, it was almost too much, too raw, too overwhelming. To go from nothing from the man to everything was making my heart hurt, my body throb.
“You need me.”
And it was pointless to argue, as the truth was there in my panting breath, the way I was writhing beneath him, and my soft begging. I had forgotten about anyone but the man who had me pinned to the bed, wanting only my desire sated.
He laved my cock, sliding his tongue into the slit, tasting, sucking, and the simultaneous pumping of his hand was moving me quickly from fluttering heat to throbbing need.
“Ohmygod.” I fisted my hand in his hair, yanking hard. “Come here.”
His mouth came off me, and my wet cock tapped his cheek before he moved up my body.
“Rand.” I licked my lips, squirming as he watched me. “I wish you could see your eyes.”
“Why?” he asked as he hovered over me, grabbing the lube from under the pillow.
“They’re so dark.”
“’Cause I’m lookin’ at you.”
“Jesus.” My voice was hoarse, low. “Since when are you—”
He sealed his mouth to mine, and I felt the fierce, hot kiss roll through my whole body.
I had to shove him off me so I could breathe.
“Rand.” I panted out his name, arching up off the bed when I felt his slick fingers on my skin. He was fast with the lube, his fingers already slippery with it.
“Scream my name, Stef… scream loud.”
“Jesus God,” I moaned as he buried himself in me fast and hard and deep, grabbing my legs, wrapping them around his hips. I loved that he was rough with me because I craved the power and the dominance, wanting to submit but having never found a partner strong enough to make me or whom I trusted not to hurt me. I had to be careful, or I could fall really hard for my best friend’s brother.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and when my eyes drifted open, he fisted his hand again on my cock at the same time as he pressed deeper inside my body.
The first pulse of my orgasm beat at the base of my spine as I pushed up into him, watching the muscles in his abdomen contract, his chest heave, and his jaw clench.
“I have to be closer,” he said before he suddenly sank down into me, wrapping me in his arms, molding his hot, sweaty body to mine.
Never had anyone held me crushed to their heart as they were buried inside of me. I felt exposed and vulnerable, hot tears blurring my vision.
“You fit me just right,” he growled before he turned his head and kissed me, his voice low and sexy.
The sizzling heat tore through my body as I clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his narrow hips. He lifted his head to breathe and thrust forward at the same time, filling me, finding his release as he clutched me tight, my name spoken over and over like a chant. We were frozen for long moments, both of us spent, heaving, just lying there, unable to do anything more.
“Are you okay?” I asked when I could.
“Yes,” he breathed out, his face buried in the side of my neck. He had not pulled out of me, content to lie there between my thighs. “Are you?”
I nodded, sighing deeply, content not to move for the rest of my life.
“Stefan,” he said before his mouth closed on my skin.
I understood the need to bite and lick, suck and bite again. He needed marks on me, his marks, compelled by some primitive desire to brand what was his. The slow, languid kissing that followed was almost too much to bear.
“You’re shaking,” he said finally, his breath warm on my face.
“’Cause of you.”
He pressed his bicep against the side of my face, leaned my head close to his, and held me tight. “Is that bad? I didn’t hurt you or—”
“No,” I breathed out.
His sigh was long and loud. “I can’t seem to let go.”
“Fine, don’t.”
His smile was gentle, tender, one I had never seen before, just for me. I watched him, taking in the long lashes, the slight dimple in his chin, and the laugh lines in the corner of his eyes. He had always been gorgeous but was suddenly now breathtaking.
“You’re looking at me funny.” He chuckled, biting the side of my neck, licking it to take the sting away before biting again, harder. I made a noise of pure pleasure, and he sucked the spot, making it tender, sensitive as he bathed it with his tongue.
“I can’t help it.” I was in a daze from his attention.
He slid slowly out of my body before collapsing beside me.
“Tired?” I teased him.
Instantly, I was reached for and tucked against his side, one hand buried in my hair, the other on the small of my back, holding me gently. “You get that I’m not leaving your bed, right?”
I smiled at him as he reached behind his head and turned off the light on the nightstand. With the way the moonlight filled the room, it wasn’t dark, but it was soothing and cool.
“Unless you want me outta here,” he said, and I heard the catch in his voice. He didn’t want to go, but he would if I asked him to.
I rolled to my side, drawing his arm around me as I did it. Instantly, he was spooned me and I was engulfed in hard muscle and warm skin. I never before wanted anyone to hold me after, sleep with me against their heart, nuzzle their face into the crook of my neck. I always leaped out of bed after sex and took a shower. Being covered in sweat and semen had never been something I cared for. But the man I had always thought hated me wanted to sleep with me wrapped in his arms, so I didn’t care that sticky fluid was drying between us, cementing us together. The smell of our lovemaking, of his skin, was a tangible reminder of what we had just done, the consummation of years of yearning. The revelations of the day were phenomenal.
“Stop thinking and go to sleep already.”
I was going to ask a question, but the soft kisses on my shoulder stilled me, and my mind went blank. While I was trying to think of it, with his hand stroking over my hip, I fell asleep. It had been a really long day.