Saving Dallas (Saving Dallas 1)

“No, baby. No fucking this time. Just slow love making.” He said, kissing my neck, my face, my lips. I loved hearing him talk to me. The more he said the wetter I got. Every little endearment was like a breath of air. My heart fluttered each time his lips touched me. I had never felt like this before. Slowly, Luke began to move. It wasn’t painful but a little uncomfortable. I lifted my legs to wrap around him and winced as he thrust deeper. “Be still.” His tone had a bite to it, but he kissed me and I immediately forgave him.

He picked up rhythm and the feeling intensified. It was no longer uncomfortable. His mouth never left my body, constantly kissing my lips and neck and breasts. I lifted my pelvis and matched him thrust for thrust. I could feel myself building. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. I moaned in his mouth and his growl from deep in his chest was enough to push me over the edge.

“Come for me baby. Let me feel you while I’m inside you.” My screams were of pure pleasure, this orgasm even more intense than the other. As I come apart beneath him, he drove into me-taking full advantage of my relaxed muscles. I was on the verge of passing out from ecstasy, when he rammed into me, filling me completely.

When I came to, he was still inside me, kissing my neck and face. Ever so slowly, he eased out of me and instantly I missed him. The feeling of him inside of me, the way he constantly kissed me, the sweet things he said to me, it made me feel like a woman. He worshiped my body. There was not a place on me that he had touched that didn’t feel as if it were on fire. He laid beside me and tucked me into him. My head rested on one arm and with the other one he had a firm hold on my waist, rubbing tiny feather like circles on my stomach.

“You ok babe?” His soft voice broke the silence.

“Yes,” I managed to say, although it came out as a whisper. A soft chuckle came from behind me. I wanted to turn and look at his face, but my body was so relaxed I didn’t think I had the strength.

“Why did you run from me?” My body tensed. I knew we would eventually discuss this, but I was hoping it would not be in my post-coital state.

“You know why,” I responded, my voice somewhat stronger.

“No, I don’t. I asked you not to do something and you disobeyed me. You deserved what you got.” He said, never raising his voice.

“Disobeyed you?” I struggled to turn over so I could see his face. How dare he use the word disobey with me? I was a grown woman for crying out loud.

“Yes, disobeyed me. I told you not to be associating with other men and you did it anyway.” His facial expression was completely impassive and his voice was still soft. God he was gorgeous.

“First of all, I am not in the fifth grade. I am a grown woman who does not live by a set of rules. You can’t just tell me to do something and expect me to do it when you are over there hugging and kissing on every woman in the bar.” I was now fuming. Sweet, sexy Luke was gone and in his place was this guy that I had yet to meet.

“Ah, now we are getting somewhere. You were jealous.” He gave me his signature smirk and it was like throwing gasoline on a fire.

“I most certainly was not jealous. I don’t give a shit what you do. If you want to hang on every piece of trash you encounter, that’s fine with me, but don’t expect me to sit there and watch it,” I seethed. I stood up and headed to the bathroom. That son of a bitch, how dare he try to blame this on me. Damn right I left; why the fuck should I stay?

“You are a feisty bitch aren’t you?” I turned to see Luke standing in the bathroom doorway. He had pulled on some basketball shorts. For the first time, I notice his calves. Damn. How did he do that? They were muscular and tan and just the right size. Wait, did he just call me a bitch?

“Did you just call me a bitch?” I asked him, completely taken aback by what I thought my ears had heard.

“A feisty bitch, to be exact,” he responded, still smirking. I could see the challenge in his face. Well if he wanted a fight I was going to give him one. Before I could lash out at him, he spoke again. “Why don’t you tell me why you really left? Tell me the truth. How will I ever know if you don’t talk to me? Is that your answer for everything? To run?” He looked so confident standing there, talking to me. His words were hypnotizing. He was so calm and collected when he talked and I was a stick of dynamite, whose fuse had already been lit.