Read Untamed (Untamed #1) Online

Authors: Victoria Green,Jinsey Reese

Untamed (Untamed #1) (9 page)

W
e drove back to Dare’s place in silence. Forty minutes of nothing but the radio and raindrops pounding the roof. Although he was trying not to show it, I could tell that he was worried. About what, I didn’t know, but I knew it had something to do with his father.

When I stopped in front of his place—a small, rundown warehouse-turned-studio-lofts—Dare said, “Thanks for today.”

I shook my head. “Trust me, you don’t owe me any thanks for anything. You have no car because of me.”

“Yeah, well...” He shrugged. “We’re even now.”

“We’re not. You need a car. The mechanic—”

“I don’t need your charity, Reagan,” he said, eyes blazing. “I can figure out my own shit. Get home safe and try not to kill anyone else, okay?” He opened the door and swung his legs out.

“Wait!” I grabbed his arm, not wanting him to leave, but not knowing how to ask for him to stay.

I didn’t
do
this.

“Reagan.” My name was a goodbye. “You just witnessed firsthand how fucked up my life is.” He held a hand out toward my red Mercedes, then up at his dilapidated building. “Go home.”

“Go home to my parents’ penthouse where I belong?” I shot back. “Is that what you mean?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He didn’t HAVE to speak the literal words. His tone made it perfectly clear.

“Thank you for the ride,” he repeated before turning to leave. “I really appreciate the gesture of goodwill. We’re square, Reagan. Really.”

I sat in the car and watched him walk away, then put it into gear. I started to inch it forward, but couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just drive away. So I pulled into a parking spot, got out, and stared at his building.

I stalked toward it. Then back to my car. Building again.

Shit.

There was nothing like standing in the pouring rain in front of a guy’s place. A guy your brain knew was wrong for you in every way even if, deep inside, he felt more right than anyone you’d ever met.

I wasn’t THAT girl. I didn’t do this. I never got attached, never stayed interested in someone. It was always just a drug-induced, mind-numbing tryst.

Except Dare didn’t numb my mind—he soothed it.

I stood there in the pouring rain on the sidewalk staring at his door.

Fuck. Why did he have to mess with my tried-and-true rules?

My blouse was soaked, my hair plastered to my face. I had to make a decision. Now. And preferably without thinking about it. I put my hand on the handle. The lock was broken.

Decision made.

3B. If I remembered correctly, he was in 3B.

I hardly breathed as I climbed the dingy stairs. In front of his door it took me a minute to work up the guts to press the buzzer. Just before my finger could connect with it, the door swung open, and Dare stood staring at me almost like he was relieved to see me.

“You might have a concussion,” I said. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

He took in my drenched clothes and wet hair, reaching out to run his thumb over the moisture on my bottom lip.

I shivered at the contact. “Dare…”

“You’re shaking. Come in and dry off.” He slid his fingers between the buttons of my shirt and pulled me inside, crashing his mouth to mine, the kiss knocking the breath out of my lungs.

We made our way through the kitchen to the living room, our lips and tongues insatiable, the heat making me shiver with desire. What was it about this guy? How was it possible to want someone this much?

We came to a stop when we collided with the back of the couch. Dare was fisting my shirt, holding me tightly against his rock-hard body as his other hand pulled on my waist. He drew me even closer, intensifying the kiss until all I could feel was him. The pulsing, swirling licks of his tongue, the firmness of his muscles, the scent of fresh rain on his skin. I lost myself in him. Wanted to stay there forever. We needed each other.

He suddenly broke our kiss and pulled back. Entwining his fingers in my hair, he searched my face before saying, “My father is an asshole. He fucked up any chance my family had at normalcy.”

His beautiful face was twisted in so much pain it made my heart hurt. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to explain.”

“No. You need to know what you’re getting into by being around me. My mother has been a junkie longer than she’s been clean, and my dad is a drug-dealing scumbag currently serving time at Rikers for manslaughter, though the bastard should have been charged with murder.”

“They’re not you,” I whispered. “Your parents are not you. You’re good.”

He shook his head. “But I wasn’t. For a long time, I was just as fucked up as my dad. I wasn’t good at all.”

“That was then. That’s not who you are now. I hardly know you and even
I
can see it.”

He laughed bitterly. “The jury is still out on that.”

“My father is an asshole, too,” I said. “He’s just rich and powerful enough to never have been convicted of any crime.” I paused, wondering if I should share the one thing that had been pressing on my mind all evening.
Fuck it.
“He’s killed before, too,” I whispered.

Four years ago he killed a piece of me.

“What about your mom?”

“She drinks. She takes all these pills.” She’d even started feeding them to me when I was fifteen because
no one can tolerate hysterics, Reagan.
“She’s also addicted to power. And money. And control.”

“So…” He kissed me. “We’re both…” He traced his lips over my throat. “Equally…” He grazed my collarbone with his teeth. “Screwed.”

I put both hands on his face and lifted, then kissed him on the lips. Hard.

“I doubt that,” I said. “I’m way more fucked up than you. Trust me.”

He ran his mouth down my jawbone to my pulse and sucked. First gently, then harder, forcing it to speed up as he tore open my shirt. Buttons clattered to the hardwood floor.

“That’s because you don’t know me,” he said as he yanked the silky material off and flung it to the floor.

“Nor you me.” My bra followed my shirt, freeing my breasts for his waiting hands. And mouth.

“Not true.” He squeezed, then took a nipple into his mouth. “I know you like when I do this.” Baring his teeth, he gave it a gentle bite.

Oh, god. The contact made me shiver and grind my hips into him.

“Yes.” I exhaled, digging my fingers into his bare back, forcing him closer. “I like that.” I was rewarded with another nip. Rougher and sharper this time. Instinctively, I raked my nails over his back.

Our breaths were coming in hard pants now. My blood heated and danced in my veins as a surge of liquid warmth rushed to the pulsing between my thighs.

“And you like when I do this, too.” His hand slipped down my bare back to palm my ass. He squeezed and the ache between my legs responded.

“Oh yes.

“But I don’t know how you feel about this.” He buried his face between my breasts, then slowly got to his knees and licked his way down the middle of my body, over my stomach. “So?” he prompted as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my skirt.

“Like.” Oh, god. “So much like.”

Placing both hands on my hips, he spun me around and tugged on the zipper at the back of my skirt. The thick material was so waterlogged it wouldn’t budge. Fuck.

“Rip it,” I said.

“It looks expensive.”

“So was my blouse. They’re not mine. Not me. Rip it off.”

He growled, stood back up, and with one hand on each side of the zipper, pulled my skirt down, tearing it in half. Then he slid his hands up my hips, grabbed my panties and ripped them off.

“Like,” I said as I stood there completely bare, my body throbbing in all the right places.

I leaned back into him, my ass rubbing against him. A husky, deep groan vibrated through his chest as I grazed the hard bulge in his jeans. He didn’t even wait for me to face him again before he bent me over the couch and slid his hand down my ass, cupping and squeezing my flesh until his fingers were hovering directly above my warm, wet entrance.

“If I remember correctly, you
really
like this,” he said, tracing his fingers along my folds, bringing them up to my clit, then slowly sliding them so deep into me the motion made me want to fall apart right then and there.

All I could do was moan.

He leaned over me and kissed my bare shoulder. “I’ll take that sweet little sound as a
yes
,” he said with a husky growl as I shuddered against him.

Fuck YES.

“Say my name.”

I shook my head, so overwhelmed with feeling I couldn’t speak. I didn’t do that. I didn’t ever say anyone’s name during sex.

He stopped moving and I whimpered.

“Say my name, Reagan. I want my name to be on your lips, on your mind, as you come.”

His fingers moved in a deliberately torturous pulsing motion, as his other arm gripped me tightly from behind. Ever so slowly, the palm of his unengaged hand slid up my stomach to cup my breast, his thumb and forefinger teasing my nipple to the rhythm of his strokes. My head spun. My body was on fire. I could feel him everywhere, the heat of his body keeping me warm as I stood bent over the couch, naked and dripping wet.

“Faster.” I crushed my hips into him, driving his fingers deeper. “More.”

“Say my name.”

He stilled again and I almost cried out. My body ached for him, was already singing his name in every cell. I needed the release only he could give me. It wasn’t going to hurt anything if I broke my own rule.

I nodded and pushed my hips into him again.

“Dare…” I said. “Please.”

He moved his hand again, increasing the tempo until I was gripping the back of the couch for support and seeing bright spots behind my eyes.

“Dare…” Suddenly it felt so right to be calling out his name.

“God, you’re so wet, Reagan.”

“It’s raining.” I turned my head to the side and wound my arms around the back of his neck, bringing his head down.

“It’s fucking storming,” he whispered in my ear right before colliding his mouth to mine.

His tongue and fingers took control of every inch of my body. He filled my mind, making his way through to my freaking soul. Moaning his name again, I bit down onto his bottom lip, sucking hard and fast as I let go completely. My heart hammered, my toes curled. I lost myself in the taste of him as I came undone, spilling my release all over him.

“Dare…oh, god, Dare!”

My legs buckled and my body folded as I collapsed against the back of the couch, lightheaded and filled with so much delight it was incomparable to even the hardest drug.

“Like,” I said, grinning.

“I know.” Ever so gently, Dare picked me up and swung me over the couch, lowering my still shaking body onto the cushions. Then he jumped over and lay down on top of me.

He completely enclosed my body, his knees on either side of my hips. I traced my hands over his pecs, raking my nails over the ridges of his abs. His skin was so smooth and tanned, glistening under the low light of a lone corner lamp.

“Do
you
like this?” I said. Two could play at this.

His muscles rippled in response as my fingers hit the waistband of his jeans.

“And this?” I toyed with the top button.

He dug his hips into me and groaned, letting me feel all of him.

“I’ll take that as a very
solid
yes,” I said. A very BIG and solid
yes
.

He buried his face in my neck to kiss and lick his way down to my chest, and I let him for a moment because oh. My. God. But then I stopped him.

“My turn.” My hands slipped into his jeans, and all I touched was skin. No boxers. AGAIN. Just Dare. Hot, smooth, hard Dare. “I’m a big fan of your style,” I said, wrapping my fingers around him. “And…this.”

Definitely a fan.

“Jesus, Reagan,” he said as I began moving my hand.

With every one of my strokes, I felt him heat even more, all of his muscles tightening as he groaned my name through gritted teeth.

“Like?”

I didn’t have to ask. His tight grip on my hair and his rough kisses were answer enough.
“We’re way past like.” He grunted, rocking into my hand. “Right now, we’re in the I-have-to-have-you territory.”

“I’d never left that territory,” I said, increasing the speed of my hand.

“Not like this,” he said, suddenly raising up on his knees. “I want all of you. Closer. Deeper.”

“Me too.” I tugged his jeans over his hips. The ache between my legs reignited, excitement tingling through me at the sight of him above me, completely bare and so very ready.

“Nightstand?” I looked over to his bed. It was only a few feet away, easily acceptable in the open concept loft, but right now it felt too far away. I needed him now.

He shook his head. “Wallet.” He picked up his jeans and reached into his back pocket to hunt for the condom. Seeing my eyes narrow, he said, “I had a date. It didn’t work out.”

Why did hearing that flood me with relief? I grinned at him. “She wasn’t rich enough for you?”

Dare laughed. “Not nearly rich enough.” He retrieved the foil packet from his wallet and bent over to plant a kiss at the tip of my nose. “And definitely not stubborn enough.” He kissed my lips. “When I told her I wasn’t into her, she actually listened and went home.”

“Really?” I was caring about this way too much for my own good. “Who does that?”

“Normal people,” he murmured, trapping my bottom lip between his teeth.

“Good thing I’m not normal,” I said.

“Good thing neither am I.” The air around us filled with tension as he pinned me with his dark gaze. “Maybe that’s why this feels so good.”

“Maybe.”

I took the condom from his fingers and rolled it onto him slowly, making him groan in sweet agony. Then he slipped between my legs and entered me, wasting no more time.

With each thrust, he drove deeper and deeper, filling me so completely I could no longer distinguish between his body and mine. His mouth latched onto my nipple, and he twirled his tongue around it, sucking on the peak and making me arch all the way off the couch.

Then he was back on his knees, hooking his hands under my thighs and bringing me almost completely off the cushions as he increased his pace. He was hitting such a deep, sacred place I was convinced he was literally screwing every single thought from my brain. And—oh, god—it was the most liberating feeling in the entire world. Liberating and wonderful and exciting.

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