Sex, Desires & Rock N Roll Page 21

  Dash’s fingers trace a pattern on my arm, adding another layer of calm. “I know there’s more you probably have to tell me, and there’s more I want to say to you, but I think it’s enough for tonight. Just know that what you told me doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Actually it only strengthens it. And no matter what else you tell me, I’m not going anywhere; you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re starting to own my heart, Jules, and honestly I don’t want you to give it back. Just so we’re clear. Now, I’m sure you’re drained. I know I am; so how about we go upstairs, get into my ginormous and cloud-like bed, and go to sleep. Does that work for you, or would you rather go…”

  “I want to stay with you.” And I realize my answer means more than just staying the night. I realize I want more with Dash. I realize that I’m not falling, but I have fallen, and that scares me to my core. But deep down, even though it terrifies me—the not knowing if this is the right thing for me to jump into, or if I’m enough for him—I can’t, I won’t, and I don’t want to stop this from happening. For the first time in my life, I feel safe and normal and at peace. Above all else with, Dash I don’t feel so damaged.

  “Good.” And with that, Dash rises from the sofa with me in his arms and carries me upstairs.

  I WAKE WITH a start. My heart is racing, and a thin sheen of sweat covers my chest, which is rising and falling as if I just ran a race. A deep, needy ache throbs, causing me to squeeze my legs together, desperately seeking relief. My eyes finally adjust to the early morning light, and I realize I’m not at home; I’m not in my bed. All at once, it all comes rushing back—riding on Rosie, the tour of his house, the way he made me feel in the kitchen, my confession, his reaction—all of it. I’m in Dash’s bed, wrapped in his sheets that smell of him, wearing one of his T-shirts. A contented sigh escapes into the room. For the first time in a long time, I am just that content. I’ve woken up from a wonderful, although frustrating—damn that word slow—dream and not a nightmare. I smile—truly smile. And it feels damn good.

  I look over to the other side of the bed, and it’s empty. My eyes quickly scan the room, but there is no sign of Dash. I wonder where he is? Then, as if he heard my question, I hear him singing. “I’m feeling lost and alone, broken and bruised. Your eyes they see through my soul. I can’t find redemption. My final breath is gone. Righting my wrongs, I’d rather stay here than go but I know that I disappeared into the dark, into the shadows. Everything comes tumbling down…”

  My heart clenches in my chest, and a single tear darkens the sheet I’m holding against my chest as if it could hide my feelings. Dash’s words hold so much emotion, so much power; I feel it deep in my bones, deep in my soul that there’s more to this man then I know. Dash Ford is complicated, and I have the distinct feeling he has his demons too. And I hope, I hope with every fiber of my being, that I can help him as he’s helped me.

  I let the sheet fall and climb out of bed. He continues to hum, his voice carrying from the bathroom. I approach the door and hear the familiar sound of the shower. Part of me says stop, while the other part of me says go. I reach for the doorknob, silently praying that it’s locked and then at the same time praying it’s unlocked. I need to be with him. I need to comfort him. I just need him. The knob easily turns within my hand—it’s a sign—I’m meant to go in, I justify. As I push open the door, steam envelops me and Dash’s pained voice rises above it. “Not saving her I’d rather stay here than go but I know that I can’t. There’s an ache deep inside that consumes me. No, you won’t ever get too far from me…” With each step I take deeper into his bathroom, my heart beats fasters, aches more. He doesn’t know I’m here. I get closer to the glass enclosure of the shower, steam billowing from it, the door streaked with condensation, but I can clearly see Dash as if he was standing right in front of me. His head is bowed; his hands are in fists against the light tile of the shower wall. One leg is bent as if he’s pushing off the wall. His shoulders rise and fall as the pained words fall from his lips. Dash looks defeated, and all I want to do is walk into that shower and hold him against me. Hold him and let him know that this time I’ve got him. I feel as though I’ve been selfish and consumed with my own issues and letting them cloud what’s right in front of me. All this time I’ve relied on him to help me through this even when he probably wasn’t aware of what I was doing. The realization hits me that I’ve been unfair to him, and it’s time to correct that.

  I reach for the hem of Dash’s T-shirt and pull it over my head. I take a deep breath and lose my bra and panties as well. I hesitate for a moment, debating if I should really follow through with my intent. I wonder what his reaction will be. I wonder if this is the right thing to do. Closing my eyes, all I see behind them is Dash’s bright blue eyes, comforting me, his smile putting me at ease. When I open my eyes, my decision is made. I reach for the handle of the shower door and, slowly as I can, pull it open. Dash is so into his own world and the stream of the showerheads is so loud he doesn’t realize I’ve stepped in behind him. I take a moment to appreciate what’s in front of me—Dash naked and wet. His back muscles are tense, his broad shoulders look as if they carry the weight of the world on them, and that’s when I see it for the first time. Dash’s back is one huge tattoo, and it’s beautiful. A man sits crouched down on his legs, his head bowed, resting in his arms in deep thought while huge angel wings sprout from his back and curve around his body—protecting him. The entire piece is done in black and grey and cover Dash’s back completely. I know there’s a sad story behind it. I know Dash chose this tattoo for a specific reason, and I hope that eventually one day he will share that story with me.

  Dash continues to hum obliviously to my presence, or so I thought. As my fingers reach to trace the work of art on his back, Dash’s body stiffens, his humming silent. “Sunshine?” His voice is somewhat strained and filled with confusion as he slowly turns around to face me. My heart beats erratically in my chest, and suddenly I’m afraid I’ve made the wrong decision to come in here. All I want to do is go back out that bathroom door, or better ye,t slither down the drain with all the water. My eyes pull away from his and make their way down, watching the water stream down his chest, and that’s when I notice another tattoo. This one is engraved just underneath his collar bone—My Burden to Bear. The script is beautifully done, drawing your eyes right to it. Again, I want to trace my finger around each letter, but I resist.

  “What are you doing, baby?” His voice is low, husky with an underlining ache to it.

  His question brings my eyes back to his. There’s that spark I’ve come to know in them, but deeper into the depths of his blue is a sadness, a sadness that swirls and twists within him. I know that sadness. I understand that sadness. It will hold you prisoner and never let you go unless you purge it from yourself. My fingers, having a mind of their own, reach out and begin to trace along the letters marked on his chest. Dash’s breath stills, his chest is all of the sudden motionless as my fingers follow the intricate path of lettering. So many questions bombard me as I trace each individual letter, each individual swirl. What burden? Why? When? How can I help him? What can I do? I want to ask, but I don’t.

  My eyes lift from my fingers and travel upwards. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat with each forced swallow he takes. His lips are neither turned up nor down, but pressed firmly against each other inwardly—like he’s holding back a word, a sound. Dash’s eyes are closed, his dark wet lashes impossibly longer. I divert my gaze and travel the expanse of his muscular chest—well-defined pecs and abs, that delicious V at his hips that usually male models sport in underwear ads. A spattering of dark hair around his belly button continues down to… I want to continue my perusal of Dash’s body, but my mind stops my eyes from traveling any further, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’m nervous. Maybe it’s because this isn’t the time to be ogling him. Just maybe…

  I feel Dash’s hand cover mine, immediately drawing my eyes away from traveling any furt
her down his body. And when I do, I’m practically knocked off my feet with the intense desire I see now.

  “Jules…” Dash keeps my hand pressed against his chest. His heart mirrors the erratic beating of mine. His other hand comes up and threads in my hair at the base of my neck, effectively pulling me to him. His lips ghost against mine in a way that’s sensual yet reverent. “…why are you here?” His words rumble against my lips.

  Why am I here? The question is easy to answer. “I… I heard you singing after I woke alone in your bed. Your pained lyrics drew me to you. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to…” Dash’s mouth consumes the last of my words, his lips fervent against mine. With my free hand, I reach for his shoulder to anchor myself to him. Dash steps closer, our joined hands firmly between us, joining our hearts. Dash’s tongue sweeps against my bottom lip, causing me to easily open for him—his tongue eagerly seeking out mine. Our kiss deepens, our tongues tangle and tease the other. A guttural moan rumbles in his chest, causing my knees to weaken. Dash’s hand travels the expanse of my spine, coming to rest on my hip and pulls me flush against him. His hard length twitches against my stomach. A needy ache heightens as it builds between my legs. Dash’s mouth leaves mine, and I take in a rush of air as they slip along my jaw, sucking and teasing along the way. He reaches the hollow at the base of my throat and laps at the small amount of water nestled there. My body shivers, my need for him growing exponentially. “Dash…” His name is a breathy moan that slips past my lips. Dash’s lips and mouth continue their assault on my body, on my slippery skin in slow torturous way.

  “I want to worship and savor every single inch of you. So, as much as this is torture… torture for the both of us, I am going to take my time.” The vibration of his voice, the meaning of his words cause my skin to erupt in a billion goose bumps.

  “Dash, please…” I can hear the desperate want and need in my own voice.

  Dash stops his assault on my body, leans back, and his heated eyes peer up at me. “I know baby, I know. But I am taking this slow…”

  At this very instant, I want to eradicate that word from the dictionary. Forget the dictionary; I want to eliminate it from every language. Slower than slow, Dash continues his path, adding a nip here and a lick there. My body is on sensory overload when his mouth takes my nipple, his tongue lazily twirling. My hands go straight to his hair, holding him to me. What his mouth is doing to one, his fingers do to the other. My pussy throbs as a result of his ministrations. My eyes flutter closed, and my breath comes out in pants as my head falls back against the cold tile. Dash’s teeth bite down on my nipple, eliciting a hiss from me. I have never felt so overwhelmed. I have never felt so wanted. I have never felt so worshiped. His tongue swirls around my pert bud, soothing the sting of his bite, and then he pays the same attention to the other one. I feel heat spread out from my core to every inch of my body. The ache continues to build and build, and I feel as though I’m close, so close.

  “I love how you’re reacting to my touch, to my mouth on you, Sunshine.” His tongue teases my breast, and then his mouth is traveling between them, kissing, nipping, and licking droplets of water along the way. Then he stills. The feeling in the shower shifts somehow. It becomes oppressive… stifling. I look down at Dash just has his hand comes to the front of my stomach. My heart sinks to my toes, and panic starts to bubble deep inside. I watch in trepidation as his fingers travel the length of my scar—a scar I had forgotten about until now. My eyes squeeze shut, my brain focused on his gentle touch. And I wait. I wait for the question I know is coming.

  “Sunshine?” I can hear the concern in his voice, but underneath it there’s anger, because I have a feeling without saying a word Dash knows. He just knows.

  His fingers still, and when I open my eyes and look down at him, what I see causes the words to tumble from my lips. “Curling iron. Blake… Blake wanted to teach me that I shouldn’t leave it on when I leave the bathroom for any length of time. He said it would be a good reminder for a stupid, pathetic bitch like me…”

  Dash doesn’t say a word. He nods, presses his lips to it, and kisses it over and over as if he’s trying to erase it. My heart cracks open, and nothing but love and adoration pours out of it for this man. When he finally decides he’s done, Dash stands up and turns off the water. All I can do is stare at him, wondering what happens now. He pushes the shower door open, then turns back to me, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. His hand reaches for me, gently cupping my cheek, his thumb caressing; his eyes reach into my soul. “You are the most amazingly strong and bravest woman I have ever met. You’re also talented, smart, beautiful, and sexy. Your warm heart, your inner light shines and makes everything and everyone around you that much better, that much brighter. I will thank whomever I need to ‘til my dying day for bringing you into my life. You, Jules Bennett, are nothing short of extraordinary.”

  I want to say something back, but that emotional lump has invaded my throat, preventing me from doing so. My eyes swim with unshed tears. Dash leans in and kisses my forehead, then each eye, the tip of my nose, each cheek, my chin, and then my lips with such reverence, my heart swells in my chest, overflowing with every emotion and feeling for him.

  Dash bends down, his arm reaching behind my knees while the other cradles my shoulders as he lifts me into his arms, carrying me into the bedroom. He lays me on the bed, hovering over me. His eyes search mine, asking an unsaid question. My eyes reply with a yes. His lips find my scar again, kissing it one last time before they continue their way down the rest of my body. My hip bone gets attention—the top of my thigh, my knee, my shin, my ankle, the top of my foot. Then he makes the same circuit on my other leg, giving it the same attention. When he reaches the apex of my leg, his mouth travels my inner thigh, his tongue licking, his lips sucking, his teeth nipping. And then I feel his warm breath where I’ve needed him the most.

  “Dash…” His name comes out twisted with so much need, want, and desire, I don’t even recognize my own voice.

  He doesn’t answer with words. He answers with his tongue licking me from top to bottom. My body convulses, and my hips rise from the mattress of their own volition. I couldn’t control them even if I wanted to. What I do want is more. More of his tongue, more of his mouth, more of him. Dash’s mouth, tongue, and occasionally his teeth continue to bring my body closer and closer to the edge. When he adds a finger and then another, I feel as though my body is going to explode. He hums against my clit, the vibration sending tremors throughout my entire being.

  “Dash, I… I…” I can’t form a coherent thought. Words have no meaning at the moment. They can’t even express what I’m feeling and how he feels. His fingers thrust in and out as his mouth sucks on my clit. And just when I don’t think I can take anymore, he angles those two fingers in such a way that they hone in on the exact spot that sends my orgasm spiraling out of control, my body bowing and arcing just for him. His name is a plea, a prayer, a worshiping chant as I scream it into the room. Before I even come down from the delirious high, I hear the distinct sound of something tearing open. My body lacks bones, and my lungs greedily pull in and push out air so fast it makes me dizzy.

  “Hold on to something, baby. I’m not finished with you yet.” And true to his word, I feel Dash tease my slick and over-sensitive folds with the head of his cock. As he rubs it against my clit, my stomach tightens and that familiar tingle starts to make itself known again. In a quick thrust, he stretches and fills me completely. I hold my breath, trying to get used to the feel of him inside me. It’s never been like this. I’ve never felt this complete. Dash stills.

  “I need you to breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

  I let out the breath I was holding. “That’s my Sunshine.” His smile reaches his eyes, putting me at complete ease. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. I don’t want to lose this deep connection. Dash starts with languid thrusts. In and out. In and out. It’s almost as if his playing me like
a refined instrument. His eyes are solely focused on mine. The intensity inside them holds me imprisoned like never before. I can’t look away. I don’t want to. He continues to thrust, and I begin to move my hips to meet him. Our bodies become in tune with the other, creating a rhythm, as if they were made to do this—to do this with no other. My arms wrap around his shoulders, my nails scratching his muscular back. Our labored breathing begins to fill the space between us, around us, filling the room completely.

  Dash’s thrusts come faster, harder, and I match him. “God, Sunshine… fuck…”

  Words are stolen from me. My moans are the only sound I am able to produce, until he hits that spot that makes me cry out his name. It echoes around us.

  “That’s it, baby, feel me, feel us, feel what we can be together.” And I do. My body feels like a live wire, plugged into all things Dash. He’s in my skin, my mind, my soul. He consumes me completely.

  “Touch yourself. I’m close… so fucking close…”

  Without hesitation, I reach between us, finding my clit, and begin to rub it.

  “That’s it, baby, that’s it.”

  Dash’s thrusts become more erratic as I feel my muscles tighten, leading me to my orgasm. “Baby, I need you to…” And as if he gave the command, my orgasm rips through me, my body shaking and pulsating. His name falls from my lips as a wave of euphoria washes over me, and I let it take me wherever it wants to go.