Page 24 of Just This Once (Stone Family #2)

Dante

I barely slept last night after the way I took Taryn so hard and fast in the shed.

It’s all I could think about. So much so that I masturbated at two in the morning, recalling every detail.

The way she threw herself at me, heels at my back, fingernails dug into my skin.

How her back bowed against me when I touched her swollen clit, the way she mewled and begged and whimpered as she came on my fingers.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget how she shamelessly bent over, her wide hips swaying back and forth, her thick thighs spread, and how she shivered when I spat, making her pussy soaking wet.

Something happened yesterday.

Something I can’t quite name, but Taryn transformed before my eyes.

She opened herself to me, put all her vulnerabilities on display, and let me take care of her. I know that’s not easy for her to do. She’s been taking care of herself and everyone around her for so long, I’m not sure she knows how to give up control. But she did for me.

Her trust and the pride I take in it kept my head in the clouds all day, which pissed off my father during our Moretti Construction meeting this morning, and I had a lot of trouble wiping the smile off my face during lunch with Clara, so she gave me a ton of shit about it.

Since that fateful night at Tabby Cat, we’ve renewed our friendship and picked up right where we left off after high school. Which is why I decided to come to The Nest. Even though I don’t need to be here today, I have to warn Taryn.

With only two weeks until Thanksgiving, we’re in the home stretch of the renovation, and I’ve got the plumber working upstairs today.

After that, it’s all finishing touches, and then it’ll be ready for the big party in December.

Adding to my high, I spoke with Raf this morning.

He’s doing well, and he finally got his paperwork sorted.

The legal system is a hellscape, but I’m happy he’s doing well and staying here with his family.

I stroll into the bed-and-breakfast through the kitchen, spying a familiar head of hair as she passes through the new sitting room to the reception desk in the corner.

I pause at the doorway, admiring her as she types something into the computer, humming mindlessly.

She’s a terrible singer but fucking adorable all the same.

Taking a chance, I step behind her, my hands finding her waist, pressing a kiss to her neck, inhaling her scent that’s a mix of coffee, candy, and feminine grump. My favorite.

She spins around, hand raised, but immediately relaxes when she realizes it’s me. “Oh,” she breathes, a symphony in that one tiny sound. Surprise and relief and something deeper that tugs at my very soul.

I love that “oh.” It’s layered, complex, like she is, and I want to peel it apart, understand every nuance. But more than that, I want her. I need her body against mine, her breath on my skin, her voice in my ear .

“Dante,” she starts, but I cut her off, my lips on hers. She melts into me, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling me closer. I walk her backward to the nearby closet I’d built for extra storage space she’d requested. And perfect for what I have in mind.

I press her against the door, my hand reaching behind her to turn the handle, and we stumble inside, surrounded by shelves of linens and cleaning supplies. It’s cramped but private, with a door that locks.

I hit the light—which she doesn’t fight me on—and flip the lock, then drop to my knees, sliding my hands up her thighs. “You ever consider wearing a skirt or dress?”

Taryn Stone does not need to change one goddamn thing about herself. Every inch should be worshipped, and it would be my honor to do so anytime she wanted.

But.

It would be easier to do so if I didn’t have to take her pants off every single time.

“No,” she says, staring down at me with wide eyes. “We can’t do this here. I’m working.”

“You can spare me ten minutes.” She opens her mouth to argue, and I bite her upper thigh once I’ve got her tan plaid pants down around her ankles.

They shouldn’t be as hot as they are, but they hug her hips and ass so nice.

Plus, she’s got this tight beige turtleneck on like a librarian. And I’m so hot for it.

For her.

“Dante!” She hisses, pushing at my shoulder. “Don’t bite me.”

“Stop talking, or I’ll do it again. You want us to get caught?”

Her panties easily slip down her legs, and she grits her teeth, seething at me even as she steps out of them. “You’re going to get me fired. And then I’ll hate you forever.”

“You couldn’t.” I lick my lips, mouth watering in anticipation of her taste on my tongue. I push her leg up to my shoulder, hooking my arm around it so she’s steady.

“Dante, no. What are you?—?”

“Shh,” I murmur, my nose buried against her already damp curls. Using my thumbs, I spread her pretty pussy wide, putting her clit on full and clear display—finally—and I tilt my head back. “Let me take care of you, duchess.”

Then I kiss her.

Lick her.

Love the very center of her.

“Oh my god,” she whispers to the ceiling, bending her standing knee, and I wrap my left arm around her hip, gripping a handful of her ass to keep her upright. “Oh my god, Dante,” she whimpers, and I really might come in my pants.

I was so close last night, but hearing her say my name like this… It sends me into overdrive. My cock is already rock hard. Ever since my knees hit the floor.

It’s not like I didn’t enjoy eating pussy before, but I can’t get enough of Taryn’s.

It’s my favorite meal.

And the sounds she makes drive me wild. Like she can’t contain herself.

Except here, she has to.

It’s all the more exciting. Because it’s illicit.

Every low gasp of breath feels like she’s exhaling right on the tip of my dick, teasing it, and I need to finish her off before I finish. “You gonna come on my tongue? Let me lick up all that sweet honey?”

She arches her neck, fingers tunneling into my hair, gripping it tight enough to send another jolt of pleasure to my cock, my balls drawn up tight with the need to orgasm, and I pick up the pace, my tongue flicking against her clit as my skin flames, fighting myself.

My own goddamn animal instincts to fuck this woman. Mark her. Make her mine.

The idea of her as mine draws a hum of satisfaction up my throat, and Taryn sucks in a sharp breath at the vibration, refocusing my attention on what I need to do. Make her come so fast and hard, she won’t be able to recover quick enough to tell me no. She’ll be mine.

At least, that’s what the savage part of my brain thinks.

I let go of her ass to slide my index and middle fingers inside her. She’s hot and tight, and her walls clench around them, ready for release. It brings me even closer to release too.

Every squeeze of my fingers, every tensing of her thigh, every barely audible groan is sweet torture. “I’m so close,” she whispers, tugging on my hair. “I can’t… I can’t…”

I hum against her again, louder and longer, and she finally sails past the edge, curling her lips over her teeth, swallowing her moan as she orgasms.

I can’t stop my own.

Both of us lost to this otherworldly experience.

I imagine this is close to what heaven feels like.

And I can’t even be embarrassed by the mess I’ve made in my underwear because Taryn is still riding out her orgasm as I tenderly stroke my fingers in and out of her, placing kisses on her hip, thigh, and all along her scar.

When she finally blinks her eyes open, she caresses the side of my face with her hand, fingertips trailing over my temple and jaw, and before she lets go of me, I place a kiss on her palm.

She smiles.

So do I.

Then I stand and reach for a small folded towel. Taryn gets herself dressed as I open my fly, cleaning myself up to her snickers. “You really did come in your pants.”

“Yeah, well, I love the taste of your pussy, and your moans are hotter than any porn I’ve ever seen. So… It’s your fault.”

She huffs, although she sounds quite pleased with herself, and takes the dirty towel from me when I finish, tossing it into a bucket with other dirty rags. “You’re a hazard to my work environment.”

“Absolute terror,” I agree, pulling her to me with my hands on her waist. “Should keep me locked up.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“In your basement.”

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

I cluck my tongue. “Kinda hot thinking about you keeping me tied up except for when you want to come sit on my face.”

She turns away from me, mumbling, “I don’t know why the fuck I ever said yes.”

Me either. But she’s stuck with me now.

And I remember why I’m here in the first place. “Wait, hold on a sec. I gotta talk to you about something.”

She pivots to lean against the door. “I have to get back out there.”

“I know, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. I told Clara about us.”

Taryn freezes, the whites of her eyes huge. “What do you mean, you told her about us?”

“We had lunch today, and she figured it out. That we hooked up.”

“She already knew.”

“Yeah, but…I told her we did again.” I motion to the floor, where I’d been on my knees to fuck her with my tongue. I plan on doing it again. And again.

Taryn dips her chin, jaw working back and forth. “What exactly did you say?”

I rub my hands on my jeans, keeping it light and casual so I don’t scare her away. “Nothing really, but you know her. It sorta slipped out when she was giving me shit about me smiling.”

She inhales an audible breath that makes me think she’s mentally counting to ten. Like I’m an annoying child. Then she opens her eyes to me, the playfulness from a minute ago completely gone. “You’re always smiling.”

I flop my hands out at my sides, trying for a joke. “Maybe I’m smiling differently.”

She rolls her eyes and swipes her hand over her face, grumbling my name. “Dante. Why ? Why would you tell her?”

“She’s my friend. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because,” she growls. “It’s not… This isn’t…”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It is. This definitely is… “What?” I ask, forcing her to spit out the lies I know she tells herself. “What is it?”

“Nothing!” She mashes her lips together and closes her eyes like she didn’t mean to say it, but she did. I know she did. But I also know it’s not true.

What I felt—feel—transpire between us is real. It’s honest. The most basic truth between us.

“Nothing?”

She releases a noisy breath then focuses her gaze on me. Though it doesn’t last long. She can’t look me in the eye while she lies. “I don’t want you making a big deal about this. Because it’s not, and now, Clara is going to get it in her head that it is. You know this is just…a one-time thing.”

I can’t say it doesn’t sting, but I ignore that pain for now, determined to show her I’m not afraid of her past. I can’t be run off by her present. I want her future. All of her. “Technically, three times now.”

She glares at me in return. “You… This… Fuck.” She grits her teeth and spins toward the door, taking a few breaths that lift her shoulders. “I don’t want either of us to get hurt, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree because I do not plan on ever hurting her.

“So, let’s agree to leave feelings out of this…whatever it is. I’m a mom and have this place to manage. I don’t—can’t be in a relationship. Especially with a guy twelve years younger than me. That’s…”

“Got nothing to do with anything, but sure, whatever you say, Tar. You wanna be friends? We’ll be friends. Doesn’t mean I can’t give you a few orgasms now and then.”

She stays silent, only tosses a glance over her shoulder before opening the door like nothing happened.

I don’t move, staring at her back as she walks away from me.

A feeling that I assume I’m gonna have to get used to.

She’s not an easy one to crack. But she’s also not easy to let go of either.

I’ll simply have to be patient and keep showing up. Keep showing her she can trust me. That I’m here for her, in whatever way she needs.

Because what we have, it’s real. Special. And I’ll wait as long as it takes for her to see that too.

Even if that means pretending we’re only “friends.”