I am stunned.
Did he seriously just call what happened between us tonight a fake date and then walk away like it was nothing? After I said it was the best date ever?
Fuck him.
His head shoved between my legs definitely did not feel fake. That line has been crossed. That line has been absolutely wiped off the playing board. And him lobbing that term at me like a grenade stung.
It stung worse than it should have.
I slam my truck door shut and fire it up. I need to get out of here before I kill someone. There are too many things in this truck I could use to commit a crime. And Stefan is far too close and unsuspecting to escape.
It’s hard to make me angry. But when I do finally get there, I find it hard to come back down. My hands shake as I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel. Through the window, I can see his dark figure swaggering up the driveway to his McMansion.
Looking completely unaffected, I might add.
Fucking prick.
Here I sit barely able to contain my rage, and he’s all calm and polite. And I hate it. I feel like a fool, and I especially hate that.
I hit the gas and peel out of the driveway, sneaking one final peek before I turn out on the road, and I swear his shoulders droop, his head tips forward. I’m not sure he meant for me to see that change in body language. Or the smirk slipping off his face.
But I did.
On the way home, my mind keeps wandering back to the sight of Stefan walking up the sloped driveway, the way his proud shoulders fell. The way he stiffened beside me when I said we couldn’t go back to my place. The way he asked if he embarrassed me.
The ranch’s circle driveway comes into view, and then it hits me.
I hurt him.
So, he went on the defensive. And in his attempt to protect himself, he pissed me off, too. All because we’re both treading so damn carefully around each other, trying to keep things fake when they clearly aren’t anymore.
For two smart people, we sure can be stupid.
He sure can be stupid. Too polite. Too patient. Too fucking perfect. It’s annoying.
I take one loop around the driveway at the ranch and drive right back out into the dark. The back roads between Cascade Acres and Gold Rush Ranch aren’t well lit, but I’ve been driving them so much over the last month that I feel like I could probably do it with my eyes closed. I speed. My lead foot presses against the gas like my heart thunders against my ribs as I pass through his front gates. This time, I drive right past his barn and straight up to his house. I jump out and pound my fist on his stately front door. It’s cold now, but my adrenaline is pumping so hard I don’t feel it.
The door doesn’t open fast enough, so I bang on it again. I’m about to slam my palm down on it impatiently when all I’m met with is air. The door swings open, and Stefan stands there, brows knit together with a frown on his lips. He’s so fucking hot I almost can’t handle it. His cheeks are flushed, and his shirt is untucked. I almost just straight up maul him—but first I have some things I need to get off my chest.
His mouth opens to say something, but I cut him off. “You know what? Fuck you.” His brows shoot up, and he rears back. “That date was not fake, and we both know it. So, fuck you for saying that.”
I’m worked up, and my chest rises and falls heavily. “And also fuck you for walking away like a perfect gentleman. Weeks of blatant sexual promises, and you walk away? You should have bent me over the hood of my truck and fucked me on the spot.” I watch his bright green eyes go dark. “Stop treating me like you’ll break me. If I wanted someone to court me and bore me to death, I wouldn’t be wasting all my free time with you.” I stomp my heel-clad foot, and feel completely juvenile as I demand, “Stop dicking around and show me what you’ve been promising.”
His eyes roam the full length of my body, licking over me like a flame. And he definitely doesn’t look confused now. He looks like he might incinerate me on the spot.
Stefan crosses his arms over his chest. “Is that your idea of begging, Dr. Thorne? Why would I sign up to be your dirty little secret?”
My tongue darts out over my lips. “You won’t be.”
His head quirks. “Doesn’t seem that way to me. I thought I wasn’t your type,” he spits out, betraying his otherwise unaffected persona.
“Okay. You’re mad.”
His gaze flits between my eyes and my mouth. “I’m not mad. I’m… too invested.”
The words hit me like a battering ram to the chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” His head shakes. “It’s unnecessary.”
I step forward. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t move, continuing to stand in the doorway like a sentinel.
“I’m sorry I took so long to figure this out.”
I take another step, unable to resist his appeal. I’ve been moving toward him slowly this entire time. Since the first time I laid eyes on Stefan, I’ve been in his orbit. And suddenly, the pull is more than I can bear.
Right now, he’s too close, and I’m too weak.
“I’m sorry you’re too invested.”
He grunts as I move into the entryway of his house. Mere inches separate us now. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I weigh my next words. My fingers itch to touch him, and I follow their lead, reaching up under the tails of his dress shirt to his hastily buttoned slacks. The zipper is still open and there’s no doubt in my mind what I interrupted him doing by charging back up here.
I pop the button open and slide my hand down over his firm stomach and the front of his tight boxers where I can feel the swell of his rock-hard cock. “But not that sorry.” I squeeze and feel my cheeks heat when he jumps. I meet his eyes now, but they give away nothing. He put himself on the line and I turned him away, so I guess it’s my turn to make it up to him. “Because I’m a little too invested myself.”
I drop to my knees, feeling the smooth hardwoods and the silk of my dress beneath them. “Let me show you.”
With one firm tug, his pants and boxers slide down around his legs and his dick springs free, bobbing in front of me.
“Mira. Get up,” he growls.
“No.” I palm his bare length, relishing the feel of his smooth skin against my hand. “I’m not done apologizing yet.”
“I told you to stop apologizing.” I stare at him from beneath my lashes, feeling a strange type of power coursing through me as I kneel before him. Is this how he felt on his knees for me? Because all I want is for him to be thrusting into my mouth and whispering my name.
With one hand on each of his tone thighs, I let my tongue graze the drop of arousal glistening on the tip of his cock. He groans and tips his head back.
“Should I stop?” I ask with feigned innocence.
One broad palm strokes my head as he stares down at me. The night air is cool against my back through the open door, but the energy between us runs hot, crackling with electricity.
“No.” His voice is so raspy, I almost don’t hear his simple response.
But with that one word, I pounce, opening my jaw wide and taking him into my mouth. My tongue swirls and my cheeks hollow out as I suck. Stefan’s hand is gentle against my hair while I bob in front of him, hoping to show him with my mouth how real this is. How badly I want this.
How badly I want him.
My hands roam his body. Fingers tracing the defined lines of his abs before reaching behind him to squeeze his ass. The ass I’ve been staring at far too much.
As I increase my pace, his fingers tangle in my hair, and his opposite hand scoops up my loose hair in a fist.
“Hard to have a good view of your apology with all this hair in the way, Mira.” His fingers tense, tugging lightly at the roots, and my core vibrates.
I hum in pleasure at his corresponding moan. I tilt my head back and peer up into his eyes through my thick lashes, feeling his length bump up against the back of my throat and gagging slightly as I do. Heat flashes in his green irises, and I brace my palms against his thighs again before going soft in his hands.
He must feel the shift because he takes over, fingers gripping my hair to move my head in a rhythm which suits him, and I submit, loving the feel of him taking charge.
And excited about the way my body tingles, the way my dress feels too restrictive. Excited about the open door behind us—the thought that anyone could pull up to his house and catch me on my knees with his dick in my mouth.
Excited in a way I’ve never been until tonight.
His stomach and the loose ends of his dress shirt bump against my nose as he pumps into me, and my jaw aches in the most delicious way.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Mira. Down on your knees for me. Dark red lips wrapped around my cock.” I moan on his length, feeling myself melt for him, practically purring at the compliment and how undone he sounds. His fingers tug my head back, forcing me to look into his eyes. “But this is no apology.” His eyes dance between mine as he stills in my mouth and brushes my cheek with his thumb. “This isn’t even you begging. This is just you taking what you want.” He leans forward, and his voice goes quiet. “This is instinct. This is real. And you want me.”
I blink a couple times but don’t make a move. I want him so badly.
“I guess you’re a lucky girl because I want you, too. I have since the first day I laid eyes on you.”
And then he moves, hips thrusting between my lips as his deft fingers cup the back of my head. My fist wraps around the base of his cock, and my opposite hand cups his balls, squeezing gently as we move together.
I press my knees down onto the floor, really leaning into him, wanting him deeper, even though it borders on feeling like too much. Too overwhelming. Like pretty much everything about Stefan Dalca already is.
His movements turn frantic and within moments he says, “Mira, I’m going to come.” He tries to pull away, but I clamp a hand down on his ass and pull him closer. No chance is he pulling out now.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunts and then, with one hard jerk, he throws his head back and spills himself into my mouth. I feel every twitch, hear every garbled moan as he holds my head close to his body, and all it does is wind me up more. Is this what he felt like after what happened in that dark hallway?
Because this is addictive. Blow jobs have always felt like a chore, but that one felt like a drug.
I pull away and stare at his cock, feeling mindless with lust. “I want to do that again,” I say without even thinking about it. I need to do it again.
The familiar sound of Stefan’s responding chuckle makes my chest pinch as my gaze flits up to his face.
In one smooth movement, he drops to his knees, meeting my eyes and cupping my jaw lovingly. “No. Now it’s my turn to take what I want.”
He reaches behind me and slams the front door shut. The click of the latch sends a shiver down my spine.
It’s the sound of going all in on whatever this thing is between us.
