Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

DANE

" D on't walk away from me." I pull her back to me. "We're talking about what happened."

"You fucked me. It was one night. That's all it was." Her voice shakes, and she won't look at me. She won't fucking look at me. What have I done?

I never wanted anyone to hurt Lettie, especially me, but I just had to have her at least one time. The feeling had been mutual—she admitted to staying on birth control in case it ever happened.

"Look at me."

She looks into the bedroom instead of me. "No. I called Brooke, and they're coming to get me."

"It's three hours away. Besides, we're going home to see Granny and Paps."

Shifting her weight, she huffs, "Tell me what you're sorry for. For giving me oral or me giving it to you? For st icking your dick in me? For… for…"

Lettie lifts her head, and her bloodshot eyes collide with mine. In true Lettie fashion, her thoughts tumble out. And I want it to stop. Her words aren't true, none of them. I'm not sorry for any of it but instead of saying I'm not sorry for making love to her, my lips crash against hers.

Her lips are salty from the tears rolling down her cheeks and into our mouths.

"I'm sorry for not being here when you woke up. I'm sorry that my lips weren't the first thing that touched yours. God, Lettie, I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Her forehead dips into my chest, and I kiss the top of her head, surrounding her with my arms. Lettie lets out a heavy sigh, and her frame softens into mine. I run my hands under my shirt that drapes her body. The feminine scent of the fruity body spray she wears mixes with the smell of yesterday's cologne on my shirt, and it sends me over the edge.

"I'm sorry your tits are fucking perfect, and I can't keep my hands off of them," I say into her mouth.

Lettie makes a feeble attempt to push me away, but I graze her peaked nipple with my thumb, and she purrs. Then her brows knit together, and that little sound betrays her. The erection I hadn't noticed because I'm so angry that she believes I'm sorry about what we did last night pushes into her stomach.

"And let 's make one thing clear, I didn't fuck you last night," I growl into her ear. Another purr. "But I'm fucking you now. Baby, is that what you want?"

"Quit calling me baby," she protests weakly.

I've never called a woman by a pet name. That's not true; I've called Lettie, Lettie Bug since childhood.

But I'm so riled up, I slip my hand between her legs, and her shorts have a wet spot, so I say it again, "Baby." I claim her mouth and run my fingers under the lining of the running shorts. "Do you want me?"

"No."

My body stills. Did she say no?

The only space between us is the width of my arm that's in her pants. Our lips are touching, and she mumbles into them, "Never been told no? Of course, every girl says yes to Dane Greathouse." There's a trace of snake venom in her voice, and I like jealous Lettie.

"You said yes last night. Over and over," I add.

She may not be conscious of it, but her lips are moving against mine.

"That was a mistake."

"Don't you fucking say that again. You know it wasn't a mistake, or you wouldn't be so wet for me right now. Lettie, you want me… feel how much I want you." I move my hips, and she feels just how hard I am.

"Mistake." She antagonizes me.

I take a br eath into her ear, realizing what she's doing. Lettie has always said the opposite of what she wants in a way to get what she wants. A memory flashes through my mind.

"Don't win a rabbit for me. I have enough to take care of living with my grandparents."

"Look at his perfect little nose and tail, but I don't have a place to keep it."

"It would be a mistake for you to win a rabbit for me."

I walk up to the midway game where you shoot basketballs that barely fit through the hoops. And I win her a fucking white rabbit that she names Sugar.

Pulling back, I cradle her face in my hands and ask, "Do you remember when you insisted that you didn't want a rabbit?"

Her eyes pinch together. "I wanted Sugar," she claims, but I still remember the way she looked at me like it would be a crime if Sugar didn't go home with her.

Her eyes are soft, and her grin stretches to touch the pads of my palms.

"I know you wanted Sugar."

"How did you know?"

"Because you insisted you didn't," I whisper over her lips. I look into her eyes. "Just like you're doing right now. I know you, Lettie. No one will ever know you like I do. You want me as much as I do you." I drop my lips, kissing the corner of her disappearing grin. "Admit it."

Closing her eyes, she mumbles, "You know I do."

"I knew it."

"Stop being cocky. It's annoying."

"I think you want my cockiness inside you," I tease, moving my erection across her stomach.

"I do, but I don't. You didn't send me my good morning text. Do you know how that feels after having sex with my best friend that you instantly forget? I felt discarded like a pizza box after a party. Damn it, Dane, you didn't text me, today of all days. A little sexy talk and a trip down memory lane isn't enough to get my pants off."

"What is?" I laugh because I love it when she's feisty.

Lettie takes a heavy breath and grunts. "God, is this how you get girls in bed?"

"I've never had to try," I say, as she squirms to get away from me.

"Right. You're Dane the fucking Great. I don't have time for games, you know that. I can't have sex with you casually. I wish to God I could, but I can't. Training and competing for a spot on the Olympic team is my priority. I can't be worrying about what you're doing on campus. Who's relieving your stress and giving you blowjobs or worse."

I have no clue what to say. We can't just jump into being a couple, can we? But one thing is certain, I would never cheat on her.

She finally picks up her phone that beeped with a message twenty minutes ago. I only see her profile, her small but straight nose, and her pouty lips, reminding me of a c aricature we had drawn in Gatlinburg our freshman year of college when the artist captured her expressive eyes and plumped up her lips.

"When did you send my Good Morning text?" she asks with a shaky breath.

I move over and sit on the bed in front of her, holding her hands in mine. For the first time in college, I want someone to hold.

Struggling to begin, she squeezes my hands, urging me to speak. When I don't, she says, "Just tell me. However, you feel, I'll adjust. I just can't be in limbo. You of all people understand I need defined perimeters. Best friends. I got it and stayed in my lane. But now, it will be hard to…"

"This morning, I woke up and was so fucking happy. I mean happier than I've been since Mom and Dad let us buy a dog."

She laughs, throwing her head back. "You were pretty happy that day but happier than the day you signed with Stallions?"

"Last night, I was happier than any other day in my life. When I woke up with a shit-eating grin on my face, I picked my phone up off the floor in the living room, shoved it in my shorts, and went downstairs because I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed."

"Why?"

Expelling a short laugh, knowing I hoped to have more of the same, I say, "Well, I admit I wanted to give you enough sustenance to last another round. But also because I l ove watching you eat. The cute little way you close your eyes and moan when you have an omelet with cheese and bacon."

"I do not."

"You do. And I'll do anything to hear you moan." My fingers swipe the skin of her palm. "Last night was…"

"Dane, geez, stay focused. Maybe you're the one who needs ADHD meds. I have some in my bag if you want some. Back to this morning when you left me in this hotel room, and I found you laughing and sharing a meal with another woman."

I inhale a deep breath, "When I got to the restaurant to order, my parents were there with Daisy and her parents. Mom asked where you were and I said, ‘Still sleeping.' So, we had breakfast. Honestly, I didn't know how to get away without it looking like we had sex. I know I still smelled like you. I hadn't even had a shower. I slipped my phone from my pocket and realized it was dead. Daisy's parents asked if I could give Daisy some pointers about life on campus. I swear I wasn't flirting with her. We were just talking. They left, and I was almost done telling her about the best frat parties and how they are mostly held off campus when you showed up. Dad had asked me to pay the bill because he was late for his golf game with his donors. I waited and waited until the waiter finally came, and I settled up. And I ran up twelve flights of stairs because there was a crowd at the elevator."

Curling her lips up and to the side, I smile and pull her into my lap. The exact position that started our little escapade on the patio.

She's mulling over my story, and I feel her body relax. "Okay. But when did you send the text?"

"When I walked into the suite, I heard you muttering to yourself. I plugged my phone in and sent the Good Morning text. It took me a minute because I had to think about it. Are you going to send me one back?"

"Don't look." She folds her lips, smiling at the phone as she types out a message.

I look at my phone when it beeps and read both of our messages aloud.

Me: Morning, Lettie Bug. Don't run away when you're all I want.

Lettie: Morning, Dane the Great. I hate to run, but I'd love to do the downward dog.

"You're a bad girl."

"So bad." She swings one leg over so she can straddle me. "Last night was beautiful; today, I want to be naughty."

Our mouths crash, and our teeth clash. Neither of us can control ourselves. She goes to pull off the shirt of mine she's wearing, and I stop her.

"No, I want to fuck you while you're wearing my shirt. Do you know how hot you are?" Fire licks up my core in an instant for this woman.

She strips me of my clothes, and only my Stallions shirt covers her body. I pump her with my fingers to the point she's dripping wet and then push her suitcase off the bed and flip her over.

"Oh."

"Baby, you're going to have the orgasm of your life." I pull her ass to the right position and line my hard-as-steel shaft into her center. This angle exposes everything: her creamy arousal, her pink glistening folds, and her puckered hole.

Pushing into her velvety muscles, she winces.

"Do you need me to stop?"

She shakes her head, but her muscles tighten. Once I'm seated all the way inside her, I move my hips in small circles, trying to stretch her just a little. If I don't, it will hurt her. My hands press down on her back and piston my hips slowly.

"Oh God. You're amazing," she praises.

"You're taking me so deep. But I can go deeper."

"Deeper?"

Pulling her hips higher and pushing her chest into the mattress, I relish her little sounds. "This feels so fucking good, baby. The way you're sucking me in… slow. The way my erection fills you, and there's no room for even a condom. Just you and me."

Us being together sexually surpasses every lustful dream I've had of her. I'm drunk on her scent. Sober on my feelings. Intoxicated by our connection.

"Hmm… y es, that's the spot."

I know. Somehow I just knew what she would like. Right girl. Right time, finally.

We set a furious pace, and she screams, "Dane," repeatedly. I pull her hair back and kiss her while she's falling apart. I feel her orgasm squeezing, her muscles pulsing like a drum to the music of us.

My teeth scrape across her red, whelped skin. "How did we not do this before?"

She can't speak as her body recovers. My core burns like I've done a thousand sit-ups. The tension builds and travels to my toes. Sweat drips from my hair and my face onto her body that's also covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Pulling her hair more and bringing her back to my chest, I ask or demand. "Come for me, baby. Just one more time."

"I… I… harder. The hair, pull it harder," she lets out a raspy plea.

Fuck, she's the perfect partner. As I pull it taut, I fear I might be hurting her, but she gasps, "Yes, yes."

Nerves shoot up my legs as they tighten as I try to slow down so it doesn't end, but that would take superhuman powers that I don't have, so I bury myself as deep inside her as possible.

I push her back to all fours while still holding her hair and thrust into her several more times until she falls apart. My toes curl, and my body stiffens as I spill my seed into her. With Lettie, sex seems heightened, like it's my first time experiencing sex.

"Such a b ad, bad girl."

She slings her hair and looks over her shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to say good girl."

Wrapping my arms around her stomach, we collapse onto the bed, and I groan into her ear, "You're a very bad girl, and I love it." As I kiss her neck and cheek, I ask, "Am I too heavy?"

"A little, but please don't get up."

Reveling in our connection, we stay with my body draping hers. For me, I enjoy the way our bodies are pasted together, held together with our sweat.

Eventually, she wiggles around until we're chest to chest. Her clear green eyes stare into mine with so much emotion. But Lettie's like a stubborn bull when she needs answers. With one hand wrapped around my back, the other strokes my hair from my face. "We still need to talk about what we're doing moving forward."

Lettie is laser focused so I know she took her meds and is adjusting to being back on them. And when Lettie puts her mind to something, she doesn't let go.

It's the first time I wish she hadn't taken her medicine, and we could stay in this impulsive moment forever.