Page 30 of Roots


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CHAPTER 9

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When we get to the house and O parks the jeep, I’m apprehensive to get out, holding myself back a little longer than I usually would. I don’t want this day to be over. We all get out of the car, and I pull my dress down. “I’m going to head in,” O says as he gives me a quick peck on my cheek before he does exactly as he says. I guess the day is ending. Jonah leaves when he says he’s going to go for a run, and I just wave goodbye to mister crazy pants. We’ve been gone all day and he’s going to go for a run? But when summing up everything we ate in my mind, perhaps going for a run is not such a bad idea.

Dean looks at Gil and they seem to communicate without saying a word. They’re leaving me out and I want to join in on the mental conversation, but I don’t speak the secret silent language of men.

“I’ll walk Morgan home,” Dean says out loud as Gil gives me a side smirk. I laugh out loud.

“Walk me home? I can almost touch my house from here.”

Gil gives me a knowing look and walks over to also peck me on my cheek. “Just go with Dean, Morgs,” the dark beauty whispers. The softness of his voice so close to my ear sends a shiver down my spine and I like it.

“But...” I try one last time, “you drove over here together?”

Yes, I really am acting that dumb.

“Dean will figure out how to get home,” Gil says as he starts walking to his car. “He’s a big boy. Thanks for the day at the fair. Next time I’m taking you with me.”

And with that he disappears into the night, leaving me with my heart pounding in my chest. I might make that sound more dramatic than it actually is, he just turns the corner so he can get in his car, but still. When I can’t see him anymore, I focus on Dean. He is leaning against the side of the jeep with one foot up. It’s one of those poses men can stand in that are totally uncalled for. It tends to make me weak in the knees. He pushes away from the car and stalks over to me.

He drags me against him as he puts his arm around me. I don’t know why this is suddenly so awkward, we have just made out heavily at the fair. Maybe it is awkward because we just made out at the fair. My own thoughts are confusing me and I need something to distract me from myself. I lean into Dean and try to take in his smell. After a day at the fair he just smells like stale beer and grease. The smell doesn’t really put me off though. All too soon we reach my house, mainly because it’s literally next door. I look up into Dean’s blue eyes that reflect the fairy lights on the porch. I’m tiny compared to him, which is even more noticeable with him looking down on me. There’s a turmoil going on inside my body that I can’t really explain. But when there’s a stormwind of raging butterflies in my stomach, I just go for it:

“Want to come inside?”

We’re not even inside when he pushes me against the door, grabs my hands and holds them against the wood above my head. His body is flush against mine and I tilt my head up to kiss him. Before he does, he looks me straight in the eye.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to go on. I’ll stop and I’ll go back home. But if you don’t have any objections, I’m going to see where this will end up.”

Do I want this to stop? Perhaps if I start overthinking this, I would want it to stop. But really? No, I don’t want that. I don’t want to do that and I just go with it. There’s a certainty that whatever would happen with Dean, I can trust him.

“Don’t stop,” I answer and before the words have fully left my mouth, he kisses me. His tongue enters my mouth and curls around mine. I eagerly meet him stroke for stroke. I want to touch him, but he’s keeping my hands above my head.

His free hand cups my neck and he tilts my face up with his thumb. He softly bites my lower lip, and I moan. As he pecks me along my jawline, his hand lowers over my chest to cup my breasts through my dress. My nipples instantly harden, and I hook my leg around his hip. He pushes his pelvis forward and his hard cock presses against me through our clothes. His thumb searches out my nipple and even though I’m still fully dressed, it sends little waves of pleasure between my legs. I’m so turned on I make my own mind shut up, which is an accomplishment in itself.

His mouth leaves my jaw as he kisses down my neck and trails down the bare skin between my boobs. There’s too many clothes for this situation. I need to get naked, get Dean naked. I need to touch him and be touched. It’s no longer a want, it’s a need. My body aches for this experience and I’ve never felt this needy before.

“Get upstairs,” I whisper. “I need you to lose these clothes and get in my bed.”

He lets go of my hands and steps back. Not too far. It’s as if he doesn’t want to step away too far, because he’s afraid I’ll bolt if I get the chance. If I hadn’t been this horny it might have been a decent assumption, but every fibre of my being tells me that this is going to happen tonight.

He grabs my hand as he starts walking up the stairs. His shoes are left at the bottom of the stairs. Apparently he kicked them off without me noticing. With his free hand he pulls his shirt over his head, and I almost start drooling as I see him do something I only thought strippers were able to do. The one-handed shirt removal wasn’t in everyone’s repertoire, now was it? He lets my hand go for a moment when he just lets his shirt fall halfway up the stairs. He’s lost his pants and the rest of his clothes before we’re even all the way up. I take a second to look at his almost bare body. Real art deserves proper appreciation and this, my friends, is art. His body is muscular, and firm, and ripped in all the right places. I want to take a bite out of his broad shoulders but figure it would be sinful to ruin such a fine specimen. His skin is flawless, and bronzed and I bet it’s all soft too. He would be a dermatologist’s wet dream. Who the hell am I kidding? Dean is a wet dream, period.

When we reach the landing upstairs, he turns to me and pulls me close. “Why the hell are you still dressed?”

“Because I’m not some freak of nature that can take off her clothes on the freaking stairs!”

“Can I tear your dress off?”

Wow, the idea of him doing that is way hotter than I ever would’ve imagined I thought it would be. But while I’m immensely curious how the reality would be, I still don’t want to ruin my dress. I bite my lower lip as I shake my head while looking him in the eye.

He turns me around and starts unzipping my dress while I try to help him get my hands out. He lets it fall on the ground and I step out, leaving me exposed and just a tad nervous in my underwear and shoes. He looks me over and something in his eyes darkens, giving me goosebumps that makes all my nerves disappear. The look we share is almost too intense. So I bend over to untie my shoes. Now, I’m familiar with these seductive people who can make taking stuff off seem really erotic, but the klutz that I am just hopes that I don’t fall over while I take them off.

Before I know what’s happening, I have one shoe off and am being picked up and thrown over his shoulder. I let out a very girly shriek as the world turns upside down. “What the hell?”

“You’re taking too long,” he grunts like a genuine caveman. “Which door?”

“White door at the end of the hallway,” I answer while bouncing with every step he takes, as I’m staring at his ass that’s covered in black boxer briefs. His hands are warm against my bare skin. They’re calloused and I like the gentle friction it provides. He opens the door to my bedroom and throws me on my back on the bed. He immediately bends over to untie my other shoe and leaves me in my underwear on my bed. I crawl up some and put on a soft bed light. I’d like to see all that is going on at the moment. Stare a little maybe. Devour him with my eyes, and pray I don’t drool while doing so.

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