Thief(22)

“Yeah, Dash?”

“Kiss me,” he demands, gripping my chin with his thumb and index finger. I kiss him, slowly at first, but then it soon turns hungry and demanding. His phone starts to ring, but we both ignore it, too focused on each other. He pulls back, only to whisper, “I like knowing I was your first kiss.”

“My first everything,” I remind him, kissing down his jawline, his stubble rough on my lips. “I wish I never moved away, to be honest. I never found friends so close again in my new school, and I was only there for a little while anyway.”

“You’re here now,” is all he says, kissing me deeply once more. I move to straddle him, and my hands start roaming over his body. He must work out a lot, because all I feel is hard muscle and soft, smooth skin. I tug on his t-shirt, wanting it off so I can explore more. He takes the hint and pulls it off, placing it next to him on the couch.

“Wow,” I manage to say.

He smiles, giving me the dimples. I fan my hands on his pecs then start to explore with my fingers, tracing his six-pack, and then going even lower, to the top of his indented V. “I don’t think these were here before.”

He smirks and looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Do I get my turn now?”

I pull my top off, surprising him, going by the look on his face. With his gaze on my black and gold lace bra, the one I wore just in case something like this happened, he sinks his teeth into his lower lip and says, “I don’t think those were there before either.”

I look down and have to agree. They went up a size.

“You’re so f*cking perfect, Vi,” Dash breathes, looking at me as though he really can’t believe I’m right here in front of him, sharing this moment with him. I’ve waited my whole life to have a man look at me how he’s looking at me right now. I’m far from perfect, but it means everything that he thinks I am. I lean forward to kiss him, and feel his hardness pushing up against me. Reaching behind me, I undo the back of my bra and let it fall open before sliding off each strap.

“Fuck,” he whispers, cupping my breasts with both his hands and bringing his mouth to one of them, gently licking before sucking it into his mouth. My mouth opens as I suck in air, pleasure spreading through me. How long has it been since I’d been with someone? Months. Four, to be exact. And the fact that it’s Dash touching me has my head in the f*cking clouds. I thread my fingers through his hair as he pays attention to my other nipple before glancing up at me. I kiss his lips some more, not being able to get enough, never wanting them to leave mine. His hands run down my bare back then grip my ass, squeezing.

“Bed, now,” he growls, standing with me still in his arms. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on as he takes a few steps toward the staircase. His foot is about to touch the bottom step, when the doorbell rings. Dash curses out loud, while I say the same word in my head.

“Can we ignore it?” I ask, looking toward the front door.

“Best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, kissing me.

The bell rings again.

We both freeze.

Dash puts me down and says, “Go wait for me in bed. I’ll get rid of whoever it is and be there in five minutes.”

I nod, kiss him, and then make my way up the stairs, my boobs jiggling with each step. I stop at the door to his bedroom when I hear his voice, followed by a woman’s. I turn the light on and glance around his room, realising I left my bra and top downstairs on the couch. A bad feeling settles in my gut that it’s Vanessa who’s here, and when I hear her raised voice, I know I’m right. What is she doing here? I open one of Dash’s drawers and find a t-shirt to put on, just in case she decides to come up to his room. The last thing I need is to be caught half naked in his bedroom, even though I’m not doing anything wrong. I sit on his bed and sigh heavily. About ten minutes later, which feel like an hour to me, Dash walks into the room, looking frustrated and a little angry.

“What happened?” I ask as he looks at me dressed in his t-shirt.

“My clothes look good on you,” he says, sitting down next to me, his t-shirt from downstairs back on him.

“Dash?”

He lays back on the bed and covers his eyes with his arm. I nestle my head on his shoulder and wait for him to speak.

“Apparently, she wanted to talk then saw your car out the front and completely lost her shit,” he says quietly.

“Does she drop by like that often?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. The truth is, though, I don’t like her dropping by. She has no reason to, and even though it might make me insensitive, considering the situation, I just got Dash back, and I don’t want to have to share him.

“It’s only been six days since I broke up with her, Vi,” he points out, which makes my head spin. It really hasn’t even been a week, yet so much has changed. I stare up at the ceiling, the mood completely gone, even though my body hasn’t really caught up with that fact.

“Should we just go to sleep?” I ask him, kissing his shoulder.

“She kind of killed the mood, didn’t she?” he groans, kissing me on top of my head. “I guess I’ve waited years and years to have you again, so what’s a little more time?”

I smile at that. “That, plus I haven’t had sex in months.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Dash says, his voice now a low growl. “You haven’t slept with anyone since me.”