Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) (20 page)

“Oh, God! Are you okay?” I throw the truck in Park and turn off the engine. Ripping off my seat belt, I move quickly and attend to him.

“Ughhhhhh,” he moans again.

I blink furiously, wondering if I should move him or not. I don’t have much medical experience, but I do know you shouldn’t move someone who may be suffering from a neck injury.

“Shane! Oh God! I’m so sorry. What can I do?” I kneel beside him and caress his face.

“Ughhhhhh.” He rubs his neck again, rolling it slowly until our faces meet.

I feel horrible that my terrible driving and abrupt stop caused this man to be in pain.

“What can I do?” I plead.

“I don’t know,” he moans in discomfort.

I feel as though I’m having a moment of insanity because I should be worried, but his moaning is turning me into a hot bed of hormones.

“Do you need an ambulance?”

He shakes his head subtly. “No, I don’t need an ambulance.”

“What do you need?”

“You.”

My eyebrows rise in confusion.

“I need you to kiss me.”

My jaw drops open when I realize he’s toying with me. I narrow my eyes at him and I don’t know whether to laugh, cry or sigh with relief. “You jerk! You gave me a freaking heart attack!”

With a swift tug of my body, Shane pulls me onto his lap. My legs widen to straddle his thighs. I sigh deeply, loving the feel of him beneath me; it’s a wonderful place to be.

“You did a really good job, baby.”

“Why did you do that to me? That wasn’t funny!” My heart feels as though it’s been zapped with a defibrillator.

He lifts my hands and looks at them. “What do you see?”

I roll my eyes and answer slowly, not fully understanding his question. “Uh…my hands?”

“Look at them! They’re white-knuckled from the death grip you had on the steering wheel.” He laughs before he kisses each finger slowly and deliberately.

“You’re not right! Who does that?”

A mischievous grin slips across his face, his eyes sparkle with humor. “Me. Now kiss me.”

I deliberate whether to withhold a kiss because of the joke he played. Does he not understand how worried I was? The idea that I hurt him causes me to wrap my hands around his head, angling his face exactly where I want it.

“You’re bossy!” I lower my mouth to his and kiss him softly. “I like when you’re bossy.” Again I kiss him, opening my lips to allow my tongue to slip through. “Scare me like that again,” I grab the back of his head as I lower my lips to his ear, “and I will kick your ass, Mr. Davis.”

His firm chest rises and falls as he laughs at my words until he pulls my hands down, placing them between our bodies. Those incredible blue eyes pierce me with an unfamiliar feeling, sending energy searing through my body. His name falls from my lips in a breathless whisper; a thousand words conveyed with a single utterance. Through my gaze, I reveal the depth of my feelings for him. Feelings I never thought I would have for anyone, let alone him.

I know I’m falling in love with him. Or maybe I already am.

As if she’s right next to me, my mother’s raspy voiced reminds me that love isn’t real. Love is unattainable. Love hurts, physically and mentally, as I imagine the bruises on her body. I remember her crying about how the man named Remington said he loved her and then left.
Men don’t love women, Remy. They fuck us and leave us.
While those words run circles in my mind, I stare at the man in front of me, hoping that maybe she’s wrong.

Shane Davis is not like those men. He’s kind and sweet; he’s sexy and gorgeous. Day by day, he’s chiseling away through the hard layers of my heart, finding a place that’s warm, finding the place where I believe in love.

I bring my hand to his face and run my fingers across his smooth skin slowly. A small smile dances on my lips as I feel another layer fall away, begging to be stripped away. Is it possible that Shane has the ability to fix what my mother and all her men have broken? Am I fooling myself? The emotion that rages through me has to be lust; it’s impossible to love someone this much this fast. For God’s sake, I hardly know him. A silent war rages within me as I try to justify my feelings. I swallow hard and blink lazily, breaking the contact between Shane’s eyes and mine. I want to ask what’s going on inside his mind because the intense look mirrored back at me is simple yet so complex. Could he possibly feel as strongly for me as I do him?

“Kiss me,” he demands with a tone of authority.

In this moment, I don’t care about anything but him. I don’t care about my heart. I don’t care that I’m about to undress in his truck and make our bodies one. I don’t care about what will happen tomorrow for “Tomorrow,” as David always says, “is not promised.”

Slowly, with reverence, I lower my mouth to his and kiss him with longing mingled with unapologetic lust. I pour every modicum of appreciation and gratitude for opening my heart and awakening a desire I thought I didn’t have in me. His hands reach around and angle my hips closer to his body. I find myself using my bent knees to raise and lower myself while rocking back and forth, searching for the source to quell my desire and extinguish the tension between my thighs.

Hands roam as mouths moan. He unbuttons my coat and tosses it on the floor. The hem of my shirt is lifted and my bra pushed out of the way, giving him full and complete access to my breasts. Generous, rapt attention is paid to each nipple with slow, torturous licks, causing each one to harden into tight, sensitive buds.

“Shane,” I breathe as I angle my body back and pull him down on top of me.

The weight of his body is welcomed as I lose myself in him. He nibbles along every part of my exposed skin, moving from my neck down to my stomach. The small space is engulfed in hot air as we breathe ragged breaths, panting heavily.

“I need to taste you.” Shane utters those words as he slides his hand under my backside and uses the other to unzip my jeans. I should feel a bit embarrassed at my body’s involuntary response. Without prompting, I push my feet down onto the seat and lift myself up, freeing my bare and buzzing flesh for his lustful eyes.

“So beautiful,” he whispers as he lowers his face to the area below my navel. His tongue trails a line down to my clit until he begins a circular motion. My eyelids feel as heavy as bricks and I can no longer look at the head of dirty blond hair between my legs. I close my eyes and enjoy the incredible feeling of being devoured, completely ravished.

I open my thighs wider; silently asking for something bigger and harder to replace the fingers sliding in and out of me.

My core tightens, my toes curl and my fingers fly to grip his hair when an intense orgasm rips through me, quickly followed by another. My body shudders in response as the first climax rockets through me. With deliberate and purposeful thrusts, his fingers move slowly, deeply in and out, making my body squirm as I come for a second time. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I’ve never experienced weightlessness and this feeling of freefalling at the same time. My hips continue to jerk as I eventually land back on planet Earth, coming down and landing softly from the incredibly intense high of consecutive orgasms.

I open my eyes lazily and take in my surroundings. I don’t care that I’m in Shane’s truck. I don’t care that we’re in a parking lot. I don’t care that I am completely and unashamedly exposed to him.

Again, with a swirl of his tongue, my buzzing, sensitive bud is sucked into his mouth. I smile and beg him to stop.

“You want me to stop?” he inquires with a deep, growl.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” I sigh loudly, throwing my hand over my face as it occurs to me what he just did.

Shane shifts his weight to hover over me as he rubs himself against my flesh. His mouth is slick and his eyes desirous. The pounding of my heart reminds me of my feelings for him. I fully expect him to unbutton and remove his jeans or at least unzip them low enough to allow his dick to spring free and slide into me. Instead, he brings his mouth centimeters away from mine and traces my lips with his tongue. I open my mouth to welcome his tongue, but he continues to outline my mouth.

“Can you taste it?”

I swallow hard and hum in response.

“Delicious,” he whispers.

Again I swallow hard, surprised at being turned on by the taste of my own orgasm.

Shane dives into the crook of my neck and pecks his way up to my ear. “Do you know how much I want you? Do you have any idea how much I need you?”

I grip the back of his shirt, balling the material tightly in my fist while the other runs through his hair. Words fall silent on my lips as my body responds to his queries.

Just as I unbutton his jeans and lower the zipper, a quick flash of light from a vehicle outside the truck illuminates the cab and startles me. “Shane, there’s a car.”

Immediately, Shane pulls himself from me and looks around, searching for the source of the bright light. “Stay down.”

“What?” I ask as I struggle to sit up.

“I said ‘stay down’.” With a commanding voice through gritted teeth and a protective hand on me, he orders me to keep still while he wipes a small circle on the steamed-covered window. He peers through and mumbles his curiosity at the vehicle. He glances around, wiping the windows clean and scanning the perimeter before looking at the watch on his left wrist. Even in the dark, I can see a stern, confused look as it appears on his face.

“What’s going on?” I ignore the pressure of his heavy hand as I readjust my bra and sit up, reaching for my discarded shirt before slipping it on over my head.

“Why can’t you do what you’re told?” Fierce, blue eyes pin me, making me feel small and insignificant.

Bewilderment races through me at his audacity for belittling me. “What are you talking about? I don’t take orders from anyone. Especially not you.” I pull my pants up and open the door, jumping down and slamming it hard. I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with cool air and my head with a sense of clarity.

Within seconds, Shane is around the truck, pulling me against his heaving chest, a shaky hand cradles my head. “I’m sorry.”

I’m stiff as a board.

He lowers his mouth to my ear as he whispers, “Please get back in the truck.”

There’s a sense of urgency in his voice and for some unknown reason, I comply with his request.

I climb back into the truck and move as far away from him as possible. My attention is drawn to the single car parked at the far end of the parking lot. The quiet, soft sound of the door closing is a stark contrast from the agitated man sitting behind the steering wheel. I eventually give in and glance over at him. His body is rigid, his hands grip the wheel and his narrowed eyes are focused like an arrow on a target.

The tension is thick and draped on me like a heavy winter coat.

“What just happened?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, Remy.” Shane turns to face me. The anger and hurt I feel melts away when I see vulnerability in his eyes. Gone is the agitated man replaced with a wounded one.

“What’s wrong with you?” I blurt out even though I know I shouldn’t ask a question so directly. It’s obvious that Shane Davis has got some issues, some hidden demons of his own. I need to know what they are so I can help him.

His eyes drop from mine until he finds my lips. “There’s a lot wrong with me, but you…you’re right for me. You feel like the only right thing.”

I force down the gigantic lump in my throat as I slide closer and remove his firm hold from the steering wheel. I enclose his trembling hand between mine as I circle the top with my thumbs. “Talk to me.”

He offers what looks like a sad smile. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“What happened a few minutes ago?” I inquire softly yet adamantly.

He clears this throat before speaking. “I don’t know. I saw the light and…I…I don’t know, Remy. It’s not a big deal.”

“I disagree. You
ordered
me to “stay down” like I was a dog or something.” I can’t hide the offended, repulsive bite in my tone.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. Please don’t be offended.” Our joined hands are raised to his lips and he kisses my hand quickly, offering an action to match his words.

Although I have a million questions about what just happened, his eyes, filled with quiet resolve, silently beg and plead for understanding. They prevail when instead of prodding, I simply as if we can leave.

The engine roars to life and
Your Arms Feel Like Home
by 3 Doors Down comes through the speakers as we silently navigate through Boston. Along the highway, I watch as we pass one exit sign after the next, bypassing the one for my apartment. “You just missed my exit.”

“I want you to stay with me tonight.”

What?
“You want me to stay with you?” Shock and surprise lace my voice. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not.”

“Please.”

I shake my head and mumble, “No,” even though I desperately want to say yes.

“Why not?”

“First of all, you didn’t ask me. I’m not some dog you can order around.”

He gives a look of reproach before offering a crooked grin and quiet rumble of laughter. “C’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

I arch one eyebrow.

He sighs deeply, “Remy, would you please stay with me tonight? Is that better?”

“Not really,” I chuckle.

“I’m serious. I’m sorry I yelled at you before. I just got…worried.”

Worried?
There was nothing to be worried about except maybe getting arrested for public indecency if a patrol officer happened to look into the truck when his face was between my legs.

I store that nugget of information in the back of my mind. I wage an internal debate about whether I should spend the night with him or not. Of all the reasons, the only obstacle serving as a deterrent is a missing toothbrush. “I’ll stay for the night.” An unexpected rush of adrenaline runs through my veins at the thought of what’s to come.

“Thank you,” he says as he reaches over to clasp my hand in his while an appreciative yet victorious smile tickles his lips. “Are you hungry?”