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I bite my lip as the pressure in my balls becomes unbearable. Jesus.
What if I grab her and fuck her right now? Right here, in my chair, with her on top, so that I can grip her ass, suck on her breasts and kiss her mouth?
She winks at me over her spoon, and I close my eyes, trying to get my body under control. Is this a game? Is she testing me, to see how much I can take? She’s playing along—no underwear, no physical pressure—and she seems curious, too, willing to try this.
I dig into my food, my thoughts spinning, and suddenly come down to earth as the taste explodes in my mouth.
“Whoa!” I look down at my plate, then up into Dakota’s bright eyes. “What’s this?”
“Curry. Recipe handed down to me by my Grandma Florida.”
“Your grandma’s name is Florida?” I swallow and shovel more curry into my mouth. It’s spicy, and my eyes water, but damn, it’s tasty.
“And Grandpa Washington.”
I laugh and put my spoon down. “Does your family cover the whole US territory?”
She shrugs and grins. “We try.”
“Really?”
“Well, let’s see. There’s my cousin, Iowa, and Aunt Georgia, then there’s my cousin Nevada… I even have an aunt named Dakota, like me, but she lives out of state.”
And she goes on, enumerating all those names, and I sit there, quietly laughing, and eating my curry, and it feels… perfect. Easy. Comfortable. Happy.
That should have set off the alarms in my head. It would have, not so long ago. Because when you start getting comfortable and happy, that’s when life decides to take a turn and bite you in the ass so hard you don’t know what hit you.
***
“You haven’t drawn on me recently,” Dakota says as she puts away the plates.
It takes me a moment to un
derstand her words, my gaze following her bare pretty legs up to the hem of the T-shirt. I hope she lifts her arms, so it rides up, baring her ass. “Hm?”
“Ink. On me.” She turns her head and winks. “Tonight.”
Damn, she’s bossy again, and again it turns me on. Like I need more excitement. Dick the dick is desperately trying to drill a hole through my jeans.
“I’ll draw on you.” With my cock. All over you. Jesus.
“Come on.” She pads over to me and lifts my hand from the table. “Let’s go.”
Frowning, I let her pull me up and into the living room. “What? Where?”
“Here.” She grabs a pen from the table and sits on the sofa, pulling me down with her. She hands me the pen. “Go on.”
“Pushy, aren’t we?” I drawl, running my hand over her bare shoulder, and she shivers.
“I want…” Her voice catches when I pull the shirt completely off her shoulder and rub my mouth on her warm skin.
“What do you want?”
“A dragon.”
I try hard not to flinch. After all, it’s all part of our game. “No.” I think of the deathmoth tattoo on her back, the scar it hides, and I frown. “Why do you want a damn dragon?” Her family loves her, and she doesn’t have nightmares that I know of.
Or does she? Why did she freak out so badly when she was almost pushed into the pool? What is she hiding?
