Quick disclaimer: This is a sequel to Twenty Questions.
I really meant for that to be a stand-alone piece. I wasn't trying to toy with anyone (really!), I just loved the last line, and couldn't bear to spoil it with any added words. But let me tell you, there are some people on these boards who can get really annoying if you don't give them what they want! (cough cindy cough) So here is a sequel. Any and all complaints should be directed to Cindy, who has said she will take full responsibility for its presence :)
I don't own them, rating for language and smut.
…
"End it, Stephanie."
I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. "End, uh, what?" I said, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
"I warned you. I told you if I felt your guard relax, I was moving in." His hand dropped from my face; his fingers slid down my neck, along the side of my breast. A shiver ripped through me as his thumb touched my nipple.
"You're guard's down, babe," he said, his voice low. "I'm taking what's mine."
My bones turned to liquid, and my body sagged. Only the pressure of his body leaning against me held me upright. If he had moved, I would have dropped to the ground right there in Shorty's parking lot.
He kissed me then, finally, after the promise of it all evening. It lived up to its promise. His mouth was warm and soft on mine, gentle pressure as his tongue ran over the seam of my lips. But that didn't last. The second my lips parted, he growled and pulled me closer to him, his hands tight on my hips. The kiss was demanding and possessive, forcing me to kiss him back. Without thought, I wrapped my arms around his neck, digging my fingers into his hair and pushed my hips against his.
I was hot. I was desperate.
He let go of me and stepped back. I gasped at the sudden loss of his body and jerked forward, needing his contact. I almost begged him to come back, to keep kissing me.
"Get it taken care of, Steph," he said. "And fast. I want you, and your guilt issues are only going to make me wait so long." He opened the truck door and looked at me.
His words finally filtered through the haze of lust I had been functioning under. I planted my feet. "Excuse me? You think you can just order me to dump my boyfriend and slide into your bed?"
He stepped closer to me, and ducked his head so that his face was even with mine. His breath was warm, tinted with beer. "If you don't want me, all you have to do is say so."
I opened my mouth to tell the bastard exactly that, but the words didn't come out. Instead, I found myself staring at his mouth. I expelled a low breath and licked my lips.
His mouth smiled, but his eyes were humorless. "Get in the truck."
Yeesh. I climbed in and buckled up. My mind was racing as he walked around to the driver's side. This was ridiculous. I couldn't just break up with Joe because he wanted me to. And for what? "I'm not walking away from a three year relationship for a one-night stand," I said, as he started the truck.
He cut his eyes to me. "It's a relationship now?"
I huffed out a sigh and crossed my arms across my chest.
He turned toward the Burg. Toward Joe's house. "You and I both know that you've been giving me consent all evening." He stopped a at a red light and faced me. His eyes were pulling at me, mesmerizing, making me unable to look away. "I'm trying to give you the opportunity to do this the right way," he said.
I swallowed hard and looked away, the first tendrils of panic curling through me. He actually expected me to do this. I was trying to stand up for myself, to demand what I wanted and not just mindlessly give in to his desires. But my willpower had disappeared somewhere around the beginning of the twenty questions game.
My voice was shaky when I finally spoke. "I'm not doing a one-night stand, Ranger."
"I know."
I swiveled to look at him, but his face was impassive. What the fuck did that mean? That didn't tell me anything! I stared at him, but he kept driving. If he didn't want to explain, he wouldn't.
"Did you mean what you said earlier?" I said after a few minutes of silence.
He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
"About us being friends?"
He didn't answer, but the lines around his lips softened. We turned onto Joe's street, and for the second time that night, stopped in front of his house. I glanced at the clock – it was almost two am and I should have been here hours ago. Before reaching for the door, I looked back at Ranger. His expression was tense, but there was no anger radiating off of him. Just tension. Desire.
I opened my door, and he said, "Yeah, I meant it."
I turned back to him with a smile. "Me too." I found myself leaning toward him, somehow pulled to his presence by the heat in his eyes.
"I won't always be this nice, Stephanie," he said. "Get inside."
…
The first thing I noticed when I walked in the house was the sound of the TV. Joe had waited up. Bad sign. I walked into the living room, where he was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels.
He looked up at me. Cop eyes. "I packed up your stuff for you," he said, motioning toward the laundry basket sitting beside the couch.
I felt my own eyes widen, but I couldn't come up with a good defense.
"Did you think I was stupid, Steph?" He stood up and faced me.
I looked at him – really looked at him. I had hurt him, though I had never meant to. The night had started out innocently enough. Then somewhere along the way – I still wasn't sure where – it had changed to something deeper.
Secretly, though I would never admit it aloud, I was glad Joe had done this. Packed my stuff and given the relationship the fatal shot. If it had been up to me I wasn't sure I would have had the guts to end it. But the simple reality of it was that without even really touching me, Ranger had claimed me. There was no going back.
"I'm sorry, Joe." And I was. Part of the reason I hadn't wanted to do this was because I hadn't wanted to hurt him. I'd never wanted to see this look on his face.
He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. "Me too."
I was an inch away from crying, and I didn't want to do it in front of him. With a final, sad smile, I scooped the laundry basket off the floor. There wasn't much – I didn't stay over often enough to have accumulated much – but the symbol of it was final.
I could have gone on the defensive, tried to blame this on him. He never paid attention to me, he didn't support me. But the simple reality was that neither of us loved the other – not enough.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. God he looked tired. "I'll see you later, Cupcake." He turned and walked up the stairs. With a final glance around, I let myself out and drove home.
…
The locks tumbled. My eyes popped open wide and I held my breath, trying to listen for any other noise in the silent apartment. I'd gone to bed hours ago and sleep was no where in sight. The images in my head were flipping between the look of heat on Ranger's face and the look of disappointment on Joe's. Even worse, the lust and unfulfilled need was still ravaging through my body.
The bedroom door opened he leaned against the door jam, arms crossed, legs outstretched. "Well?"
Somehow, I nodded. "It's done." I hadn't decided yet if I was okay with that fact. I sat up in bed, propping myself against the pillows. "How'd you know I'd come home?" I said.
"GPS." He stayed where he was. Even in the dark, I could see that he was staring right at me, his gaze boring into me. My chest got tight, my breathing a little more shallow, under his scrutiny. I resisted the urge to slide back down in bed and pull the covers up to my chin.
I was starting to get a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. Before, the tension had felt flirty and sexy, but not overly dangerous. We'd both known it wasn't going anywhere; it'd been more like he was toying with me. This time, it was definitely going somewhere, and the anticipation alone added a whole new level to his look.
When he spoke, his voice was gravely, a little husky, leaving no doubt as to where his mind had been going while he stared at me. "I didn't think you'd still be awake."
"I couldn't sleep." Though I realized how stupid of a response that was when his lips tilted up in amusement. If I could have slept, I wouldn't be awake at almost five am. "Did you sleep?"
"No." Somehow, that one word was full of everything that had been keeping him awake. He pushed himself upright, and stalked toward me. He toed off his boots as he came toward me, then stripped off his shirt and unbuttoned his cargo pants. I couldn't have taken a breath if I'd tried.
He didn't sit on the bed, but instead stood beside it. He leaned down until his hands were resting on either side of my face, supporting his weight. I squirmed underneath him, waiting for some action, a touch or a word. But he just stared – his face expressionless, his eyes anything but.
I wanted to say something – anything – to break up some of the tension that was rapidly filling the space between us, but I couldn't think of anything. His gaze moved over my face – my lips, my jaw, my hair. My breath came out in a gasp as that dark gaze that communicated more things than I could understand focused back on my eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, he shifted his body and lay on the bed, almost, but not quite, covering my body with his. I sighed as I felt his weight settle over me. Somewhere in all of that, his pants had hit the floor. A slow, warm heat filled me, building as his left hand dragged up my body from my hip to my ribs, then exploding as his hand made contact with my breast. I gasped and arched my back, lifting myself to him.
He smiled at me as if he had won a prize.
His hands went back to searching, caressing my stomach and thighs and ribs, until my shirt got in the way and he pulled that off. Trails of fire on my skin were following his fingers, making my breath catch with each new caress. I was lying under him in only my panties. Then his hands slid down my hips, catching the straps along the way and pulling them down my legs.
Neither of us had said much, but at that point, what was there to say? If you wanted to get technical with it, I hadn't really consented. I hadn't said no, but I wasn't really participating in this process, either. More like I was getting swept away, pulled into his force field. Though not entirely against my will.
I still wasn't sure I was comfortable with this. I didn't like not knowing what he was thinking or how he felt. Like it or not, I was a commitment kind of girl. And nothing about Ranger said commitment. "Just what kind of, for lack of a better word, uh, relationship is this going to be?"
He moved his focus from my stomach back to my eyes. "Does it matter?"
I opened my mouth to say yes, it mattered a lot. But the words wouldn't come. They would have been a lie, and we both knew it.
He leaned down. "Trust me," he said, his lips so close they brushed mine as he spoke.
I nodded before I could stop myself. He turned his attention back to my body, his gaze heating every inch of my skin. Reaching out, he trailed his fingers in a line from the bottom of my breast to my knee. My stomach clenched and my back arched. He changed directions, drawing up the other side. I was already gasping for air, and still hadn't so much as kissed me.
He let his weight drop off of his arms until he covered me completely. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. His lips were on mine, seeking, probing. We dueled, my own tongue sliding against his. His hands were still moving over my body, heating my skin.
I was lost in the sensations, unable any longer to think or to remember all the reasons I had hesitated. Why had I resisted him for so long if this is what was waiting for me? His arm slid under my back, pulling me even closer to him and my legs wrapped around his waist. The desire I was feeling for him was bordering on pain, mixing with the pleasure until it was all, together, stronger than anything I had experienced. Stronger than anything I knew existed.
I ripped my mouth away from his in an effort to get air, but the sensations searing through my chest prevented much more than a gasp. His mouth dropped to my breast. His tongue touched my nipple before his teeth closed around it, biting, creating a shock of desire that strung from my chest to my groin.
He kept going, working his mouth against first one sensitive tip and then the other. His hand slid down my body, then inside of me, and it was all I could do not to scream. At that moment, I was so far gone he could have done anything, asked anything of me.
But he didn't. He moved up my body until his face was even with mine and waited until I came back to myself enough that I could focus on him.
"This isn't a one night stand, Steph," he said. His voice was thick with need and desire; his breathing was harsh. The eyes boring into mine were so black I could see into their depths and my own reflection at the same time.
"This is forever," he said.
My eyes widened, but I nodded.
"We do this, Stephanie, and you're mine. There's no going back. You understand?"
I did. I couldn't have articulated it, but at some deep, feminine level, I understood. I nodded and moved my his against his, desperate for the feel of him. "And you?" I said.
"I've always been yours."
He slid into me, in one smooth, hard thrust. All the air left my body as I rose to meet him, still needing more, more. I pulled on his back, my nails digging into flesh and muscle as he pounded into my body, so far into me. Whimpering, I tried to pull even farther.
He couldn't get any closer.
I needed more. I didn't know what was missing, what I needed so desperately, but something was missing. Something vital. I was close to crying, close to screaming, needing something more from him and having no idea what it was.
His mouth was against my ear. "I love you."
Something in my heart shattered, along with my body. I was pulsing, throbbing, tightening around him and somehow he was filling more of me than he had been a moment ago. Filling not just my body anymore. My eyes flooded with tears then, but I couldn't care any longer. I couldn't hold anything back. "I love you," I said.
He paused, his eyes burning into mine, before trusting again, harder. "Say it again." His voice was so low it was almost inaudible.
"I love you." It was a mindless chat; I was unable to focus on anything but the sheer necessity of his body inside of mine. His pace sped up, but still, I met every thrust with my own frightening level of passion. I could hear his ragged breathing in my ear, feel his heart pounding against my chest.
His hands tangled in my hair, pulling my head to meet his mouth. The kiss was harsh, demanding, as if he needed as much of me as I was begging of him. At that moment – at any moment – I would have given him evertyhing. My hands were on his body, everywhere. I planted my feet, lifting my knees, pulling him into me. His control snapped and he pounded into me a final time, flinging me over the edge alongside him.
…
When I could regain my senses enough to look around, it was dawn. Pinpricks of soft light were edging into the room. The fire had been put out in my body but my heart was so full it was heavy, aching.
His hand rubbed over my hip, an absent gesture as he tried to regain himself. He was still lying on top of me. Lifting my head, I looked at his back – it was covered in red scratch marks from my nails. "I may have hurt you," I said.
He laughed, a low sound I could feel in my own chest along with his. "I won't be the only one with bruises." He moved off of me, wincing a bit as he did, and pulled me against his chest.
Tucking my head low, I used the back of my hands to wipe the moisture off my cheeks. The tears had been accidental; there had just been too many emotions to hold them all in. I cuddled tighter against him, needing the feel of his arms holding me.
He bent his head and spoke into my ear, his voice infinitely tender. "I meant it, babe."
I tried to ignore the way my heart was soaring and strove for casual. "Good. Cause you're stuck with me now."
He chuckled and lifted my head to kiss me, erasing with just the touch of his lips all the doubts that had sprung up since his last touch. I rested my fingers against his jaw. He rolled onto his back, moving me with him so that I lay on his chest. I poured every emotion I had into that kiss, and when we drew back, I couldn't pretend that anything about this was casual.
"I love you," I said.
He smiled. He had been right – there was no going back now.