Stay With Me (15 page)

One moment I’m sitting, the next, Caleb tugs me up and leads me to the dance floor. I am feeling a bit put out that he spotted me so fast. It’s only ten. But, at the same time, I’m really thrilled he did so. That he saw me even through the layer of make-up, the wig, the costume . . .

He saw
me
.

His arms wrap around my waist, drawing me near to him, and I rest my head against his chest. “How did you know?”

“Hailey.” His breath ruffles the hair of my wig. “How could I
not
know it was you?”

I sink into him, letting him lead, and just enjoy the song,
Falling Softly
, with him. His body is hard against mine, and I don’t think that’s his toy whip that’s pressed against me.

It ends too soon. Way too soon.

We stand there, as the music turns faster, becoming a popular pop song. People dance around us, and we’re pressed tight against each other.

“So, what do I owe you?” I finally say, raising my voice to be heard over the loud noise.

Caleb just shakes his head, and leads me from the dance floor to go outside. The cool air is welcoming; the gym was getting hot with all the students. The sky is black, no stars shining, and the moon is a sliver poking out from the dark clouds covering it. The wind picks up, rattling the leaves along the ground, and I look warily up.

“Is it supposed to rain?” I ask.

In answer, a big wet drop lands on my forehead.

That’s all the warning I get before the skies open up and a deluge of rain showers upon us, soaking us in seconds. Everyone runs for cover.

Everyone but Caleb and me.

Until Caleb bends down, lifts me over his shoulder fireman style, and runs to his car.

I let out a squeak and grab onto the waistband of his pants. “Oh my god, don’t you dare drop me.”

Caleb lets out a snort, and then we’re at his car.

He lowers me, my body sliding against him, pressing into him, touching him in all the right places, until I’m wrapped around his waist.

“So,” I say, trying to catch my breath, as he lets my feet touch the ground. “What do I have to do? You won the bet. I don’t even know how you found me so easily!”

“I know you,” he says easily. “I’d know you anywhere. And all you owe me, Hailey, is a kiss.”

I reach up and press my mouth against his. A very brief kiss.

“There,” I say. “A kiss.”

“I’ll take it.” He lowers his forehead to mine. “But this is the type of kiss I really want.”

His mouth meets mine, rubbing against me, back and forth, back and forth. Slowly, his tongue traces the seam of my lips, probing, seeking entrance, and then slides into me. Licking. Touching. He kisses me, the rain pouring down all over us, making his shirt transparent and mine like a slick glove on my skin.

His hands reach up to my wig, his fingers finds all the pins that are keeping it in place, and pulls them out one by one until the wig slides off easily. My dark wavy hair is pulled back into a low bun, and he snaps the elastic, drawing the now-wet strands of hair down. He threads his fingers through them, presses himself against me, and his lips are back on mine, kissing me like there’s no tomorrow. My heart stutters in my chest, and I shiver when his mouth catches on my earlobe.

“It’s too rainy,” I say. “I’m so wet.”

He pauses, then rocks against me. “You’re about to get a lot wetter.”

Chapter 18

S
OMEHOW WE MAKE IT BACK
to his place in record time. It’s still pouring, and I’m shivering, from the rain, from desire . . . from the wanting. He pulls his car in the driveway, and the rain is a thick sheet, blurring everything except us. I can’t see anything beyond what’s in the car—him and me—and he grabs my hand over the console, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. And even that barest of touches has me gasping, shivers breaking out anew, and God, I want him so badly I barely can stand the drive to his house.

“We’ll have to make a run for it.” His voice is hoarse, thick with desire, and I find I can’t find my own. I just nod my head in response.

He raises my hand to his lips, kissing it, and then he slowly lets go. I reach for my seatbelt, my fingers clumsy in their haste, sliding over the buckle to find the release button. I press it. I have my hand on the door handle, and Caleb grasps his when we both look over at each other, our eyes locking.

“Ready?”

I nod.

“On three, then. One . . .”

We lift our door handles.

“Two . . .”

We push open our doors and the rain sleets in, hitting my bared legs, soaking them anew.

“Three . . .”

And then we’re out of the car, doors slamming behind us, a beep signaling the car being locked, and we both stand there. Letting the rain fall over us as we grin at each other, and then, without saying a word, we turn and race to the house.

I’m running ahead of Caleb, even in my heels, my hair plastered against my face and neck, my clothes stuck to me like a second skin. The porch is seconds away, and then, I’m not running anymore.

A whoosh of breath escapes me as Caleb picks me up and turns me in his arms. I’m lifted up, my head above his, and I look down at him, through the splatters of raindrops. His inky black hair is slick against him, like thick black satin. Slowly, like he did in the parking lot, he slides me just a little down his body. I’m still in the air, his arms around the bottom of my butt. I lean down, cupping his face, and kiss him.

His mouth is wet, and I move my mouth against him. Slowly.

Oh so slowly.

I run my fingers along his slightly stubbled jaw, delighting in the prickly texture, and then the smooth expanse of the skin of his cheeks.

I could kiss him forever.

I feel myself slide down his body, until my feet hit the grass, and the whole time, we keep kissing. His hands go to my face, stroking my cheekbones, running through my hair. He lifts his mouth just an inch away from mine, just enough so our breath mingles, the little pocket of steam blowing between us.

And then he takes my lips again.

Fast. Hard. Not gentle in the least, as our mouths mesh and meld. As he touches me with his lips, teeth, tongue, and hands.

I press myself even closer against him, and kiss him with everything I have within me. Then I’m the one to step away. I hold out my hand to him.

He takes it, and we run into the house.

Goliath greets us at the door. Caleb runs a hand through his hair and looks back at me, my hands rubbing over my arms, trying to get warm since the temperature in his house is nice and cozy compared to the cold, damp of outside.

He crosses to me, kissing me, and heat floods my body.

“Just a sec, ’k?”

“’k,” I manage.

And then he races down the hall to the kitchen, and I hear noises.

Too curious, I follow him. Water drips everywhere, and I wince at the mess we’re making. Caleb is refilling the food and water bowls for Goliath. He then snaps a leash on his dog.

“One more sec. This won’t take long. Promise.” Caleb passes me a dishtowel, then heads out back with Goliath. I dry myself off as best as I can, but it’s a futile effort.

But Caleb’s right about one thing. It doesn’t take him too long. He’s back within a minute or so. He towels Goliath, and then Goliath scampers off to the living room. Then, Caleb walks toward me and looks at me, his dark green eyes direct.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

His hand holds onto mine, and we make our way back up the hall. Up the stairs, where we stop at the full bathroom there. Caleb disappears in there for a second and comes back out with a box of condoms.

“You don’t have any in your room?”

“I haven’t had sex in a while.”

I tilt my head at him. “Really?”

“Really. Not for six months, anyway.”

“Less for me. July, I think.” Right before I decided to move here a little bit early, and learned on the flight that my last experience with sex had been sold to a tabloid magazine for a quick buck. “But I’ve always used protection and I’m clean.”

“So am I.”

Having that out of the way, we head to his bedroom. He opens the door, pausing again, then turns to look at me.

“Hailey.” He swallows. “I . . . like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“No, I mean . . . I
like
you. This isn’t just going to be a one time thing.”

“Well, I certainly hope not.” I lean up, kissing him. “I have plans for that box of condoms, after all.”

He smiles against my mouth, and then leads me into his room.

Chapter 19

T
HE ROOM IS DARK, AND
Caleb moves to his desk and turns on the small lamp there, dimly lighting the space. I toe off my heels and move them to the area by the door, then I start to reach up to take off my shirt, but Caleb stops me.

“Wait. Let me.”

“The zipper is in the back.” It would’ve been a bitch to take off by myself anyway, but I’ve long since learned how to get out of difficult clothes. Still, I’m glad Caleb offers.

Caleb turns me around, brushing my hair over one shoulder, exposing the back of my neck.

I’m expecting to hear the faint sound of a zipper being lowered.

I’m not expecting Caleb’s mouth on the back of my neck.

I jump slightly, and Caleb pauses at my neck.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Pfft.” I try to brazen it out, even as my nerves dance along my skin. “I’ve done this before.”

“Not with me.”

“Not with you,” I agree softly. “It feels . . .
different
.”

“Different is good,” Caleb says, kissing my neck again. “Different is very good.”

I let out a long, slow breath. “I want this. I want
you
. But I might be a little nervous.”

“I’ll take care of you.” His lips whisper a kiss lower on my neck, his fingers toying with the zipper on my bustier. “I’ll make it really good.”

He tugs down the zipper slowly, and the panels of the red fabric fall away. My bustier doesn’t fall to the ground though, still trapped by my arms at the sides of my body. Caleb’s fingers skate along the back of my strapless bra.

“I think I want this thing—”

“It’s a bustier.”

“—as another payment,” he says.

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” I swallow thickly, and turn my head to face the door, a smile on my lips. “Then you’ll have to earn it.”

Caleb kisses the top of my spine.

A second kiss an inch lower.

Another kiss.

And another.

And another.

Kisses trailing down the bumps of my spine, until he’s kneeling behind me, his mouth at the small of my back.

I’m left breathless by the time he’s done.

My whole body feels soft, full of so much want that I don’t even know how I’m still standing upright.

“Bustier,” he says. “Now.”

I raise my arms just enough that the bustier drops to the ground.

He doesn’t go to remove my bra.

His hands skin along the waistband of my hot pants.

“What’s the payment for these?” he asks.

“I’ll let these go for free.”

“Very generous of you.” He hooks his fingers on each side of my hot pants. “Warning: I won’t let go of any of my clothes without payment.”

“I think you will.” I widen my stance just a little, so when he starts pulling down the shorts they can get off more easily.

“Doubtful. But you can certainly try.” Caleb lowers my shorts past my hips and sucks in a breath. “God, you call this underwear? It’s barely a scrap of fabric.”

“Complaining?”

“Hell no.” He squeezes my butt through the thin, satiny fabric. “Merely making an observation.”

The hot pants soon hit the floor, and I step out of them, and turn around. “Here’s my observation: you’re way overdressed.”

Caleb holds out his arms. “Feel free to take it off . . . but I expect payment.”

“I think . . .” I tap a finger to my lips, as if I’m really thinking about it. “I think I’ll start somewhere else first.”

I reach for the waistband of his pants, my fingers hitting the toy whip. I toss that aside and see it skid across the hardwood floor to his desk. I skate my fingers along his waist, and his muscles tighten, his green eyes glitter.

I unbutton the top of his chinos and find the zipper. “You know,” I say, “I always did like Indiana Jones, but you are way, way hotter.”

I press the heel of my palm against him, feeling him harden even more against me.

“And don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll make this really good for you, too.”

I lower the zipper, being careful not to catch on the fabric of his boxer briefs or him. I tug his pants down to the ground, stopping at his feet, still in his boots. “You’re probably regretting that you didn’t take these off sooner.”

“Hailey,” he grits through his teeth. “You’re torturing me.”

I widen my eyes. “Oh, am I? Oops.”

“Not so nervous now, are you?”

“Still nervous,” I say, kneeling on the floor. “But I’ve got something I really want.”

“Tell me.”

I touch the top of his boxer briefs, grabbing them. “Your cock. In my mouth. In me.”

“Jesus.” he breathes out. “Yes.”

I lower his boxer briefs, and his cock juts out toward me. Long, thick, and hard. He’s so broad and wide, the plum-shaped tip of him beading with pre-cum. I trace my finger down the long length of him; he pulses against me, and another drop of pre-cum appears at his tip. I swipe the pearly bead over him and gently squeeze. He moans my name.

I don’t feel so cold anymore.

In fact, I’m burning.

I take him in my grasp, loving the feel of him, how his hardness yields to my touch. How he sharply inhales, his eyes such a dark green, and how he rocks slightly against me.

“Harder,” he says.

I squeeze harder, tugging him down and rubbing over the tip of him again. I lower my head to him.

His whole body tightens, his mouth firming into a thin line of anticipation.

“Hailey.”

I look up at him.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

And then I kiss the tip of him, tasting the salty, musky flavor of him. It’s the briefest of touches, my lips
just
on him. He groans, his hands fisting at his sides, and I just know he wants to be in my mouth, that this isn’t enough for him.