Page 18 of The Stallion (Men Under Revue #2)
Bria
Waking up to find myself alone in a massive bed was a pleasant surprise. But after realizing that Dallas’s side was cold and undisturbed, I couldn’t help but feel a little…
Wait— Was I disappointed?
Why didn’t he try to sleep with me last night?
Did I do something wrong?
I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head and rubbing my face into it for comfort. His heavenly scent of leather and teakwood flooded my senses like a tidal wave—crashing into me and drowning me beneath its heavenly surface.
No strings…
No feelings, no strings, remember? Fuck.
I fell for a man the same way once before, and look where that landed me. I explicitly told myself going into this that I wouldn’t let Dallas in .
My heart wasn’t nearly ready to be taken by another. And yet, here I was, all snuggled up in his bed, bothered by the fact that he wasn’t holding me when I opened my eyes.
Maybe Dallas wasn’t actually interested in me for anything more than my body, just like Connor. Fucking men…
That’s probably why he didn’t even bother to cuddle after sex. He had gotten what he wanted and then left…
Shit, what the fuck am I doing?
Throwing the covers off my body, I dragged my ass out of bed and started searching for my clothes. To my surprise, they were no longer on the floor, and my suitcase was also missing from where I had dropped it last night.
Great. He put away my things, and I’m fucking naked…
The cool air bit at my skin, sending a shiver up my spine as I searched for something besides a bed sheet to wear.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted one of his plain black T-shirts lying on the floor across the room, and I scurried over to pick it up and pulled it over my head.
The hem landed just a few inches below where my ass met my thighs, and for once, I was thankful for being short.
Satisfied that I was covered enough, I gently pushed open the bedroom door and peeked into the hall to see if Dallas was on the other side, waiting to greet me like the bright ray of sunshine that he was.
When I didn’t see or hear him, I silently crept down the short hall, taking a right into the main living area .
Sure enough, there was Dallas, passed out on the couch with an arm draped over his face and— Holy fuck he’s hard…
His grey sweatpants left absolutely nothing to the imagination as I stood in the hallway, staring directly at the one thing I couldn’t resist. God, he was fucking huge…
I was never one to compare one man’s dick size to another but Dallas… I didn’t know the male anatomy came in such a large package until now. It kind of made me feel sorry for Connor, if I were being brutally, unapologetically honest.
Dallas groaned, his free hand sliding under the waistband of his pants as I watched intently until his hand, followed by his wrist, disappeared completely.
I flinched, suddenly realizing what I was about to witness, and I couldn’t think of what to fucking do with myself. Oh fuck.
Clearing my throat as loudly as possible, almost choking on my spit, I quickly skirted around the far edge of the room and into the kitchen, where the back of the couch blocked his body from view.
“Planning on cooking me breakfast already, wifey? I thought you’d take a lot longer to warm up to the idea of playing house. I guess I should fuck you like that more often.”
Nothing was more aggravating than a man utterly full of himself. And just when I thought this arrangement would be a walk in the park with as many orgasms as I could handle, he had to go ahead and open his fucking mouth.
As I stood in the kitchen with my arms crossed over my chest, Dallas sat up to where I could see him, with a playful smirk slapped across his handsome face, and his eyes making me feel far more naked than I already was underneath his shirt.
“God, you’re an incredible ass.” I rushed out, unable to think of a better response to his sarcastic way of saying ‘ Good morning .’
It was only day one, and he was already getting under my skin. I needed to figure out a way of leveling the playing field between us because evidently, sucking his dick wasn’t it.
“And your ass looks incredible under that shirt—is that mine?” He insufferably mocked.
While keeping my arms crossed, I balled my hands into fists, tugging at the soft cotton fabric.
Think Bria, think…
Coming up short on a witty retort, I turned on my heel, giving him my backside, and opened the refrigerator, searching for something to eat.
Between the drama and sex of the previous night, I had skipped dinner and was starving by the time I woke up.
Why would I have thought a bachelor like Dallas would have food in his fridge?
I sighed as I stared at the almost empty shelves, with only half a bottle of wine left from the one he had opened the night before and a few loose condiments.
You have to be fucking kidding me…
The refrigerator door was abruptly slammed shut, startling me from my zoned-out state. Dallas, now standing within breathing distance of me, and I could already feel my body warming up to him. The traitorous slut .
I didn’t even hear him get up from the couch. How did he move that fast across the room?
“You know I wasn’t serious about you making me breakfast. Although…” Dallas’s eyes dropped to my bare legs as I took slow steps away from him, backing myself up until my ass hit the counter, and I could move no further. “You’d make the perfect substitution right now.”
I could feel my thighs begin to tremble from the thought of his face between them—imagining his tongue and all the dirty things I wanted it to do to me.
Dallas placed his palms on either side of my hips, pressing them onto the counter. My breath hitched as he towered over me, and the pull between us became intensely magnetic.
Bending down ever so slightly, his lips grazed along mine, my betraying body reacting to even the lightest touch.
I wanted to fight the feeling and push him away, but simultaneously, I felt so at ease with him—so calm and relaxed. Why did he make me feel so safe in his presence?
My heart was fighting against my mind.
I couldn’t go through this all over again, could I?
The love, the loss, the deception…
Second-guessing myself, instead of choosing to embrace the moment, and allowing him to take me the way my body so desperately desired. I did the only thing I knew how to do—deflect.
“Dicktoria’s Secret called. They want their sweatpants back, Ponyboy.” With confidence, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and pushed back on him as if he meant nothing .
His arms dropped from the counter, and I left the kitchen for the bedroom, not looking back to see if he would follow or even turn to watch me go—even though deep down, I had hoped he would.
I wanted him to chase me.
Dallas was going to be a problem.