“You want to go over and eat with me and the team?” Dustin asked, keeping his gaze on me and not looking at Dewayne.
I had been secretly wishing he would invite me into his new world with him, but I couldn’t get up and leave Dewayne. He had been my friend when I didn’t have one. Dewayne was beautiful and larger than life, and he made me feel special. Dustin had never made me feel special.
“I—”
“It’s about damn time,” Dewayne said, interrupting me. Then he stood up. “Go eat with my brother. I think he’s got his head out of his ass now. But if he sticks it back up his ass, you come tell me. I’ll take care of you.”
Then Dewayne Falco walked off. I sat there and watched him leave the cafeteria without a backward glance.
“Come on, Sienna. Let me introduce you to everyone. Most of them have been asking about you for a while now. Dewayne’s made you pretty damn popular with the guys.”
He had?
I stood up, took my meager lunch, and let Dustin lead me over to the popular table, where basketball players and cheerleaders gathered. The head cheerleader who had been on Dustin’s arm all last week glared at me. I wanted to go back to the safety of Dewayne. Kimmy Bart was not someone I wanted as an enemy. She owned this school. She was also tall, thin, and blond. Guys ogled her legs like they were the Holy Grail. And all that long blond hair made her look like a princess.
“Sienna, this is everyone. Everyone, this is my girl, Sienna Roy.”
And just like that . . . I became Dustin Falco’s girl.
Present day . . .
DEWAYNE
I hung up the phone with Momma after finding out she had Micah with her. Sienna had needed to work overtime and she’d called Momma to see if she would mind getting him from his after-school day care. Momma had been tickled pink that she got to keep him this afternoon.
I had turned my truck to the salon, and I was parked out back beside Sienna’s car, waiting on her to get off work. We needed to talk, and I didn’t want to do it at her house where Micah could come home or my momma could see I was over there alone with Sienna. She’d asked me five times already why I had been over there Saturday morning. Lying to my mother wasn’t easy.
The back door opened and Hillary walked out. Shit. Not who I wanted to see. She looked at me and her eyes narrowed. Then she came my way. I hadn’t seen Hillary since I’d gotten out of her bed after a one-nighter. She’d been drinking. I’d been drinking. And she had a really damn good body.
My window was already rolled down when she reached it.
“Leave her alone, Falco. She’s a good girl. A sweet girl. And you”—she pointed at me—“ain’t something that girl can deal with. She doesn’t understand guys like you. I’ve watched her, and every man who walks into that place hits on her, and she ain’t got a clue. Even Gretchen’s clients can’t keep their eyes off her. She’s sweet. Too sweet. So crank this truck and get the hell out of here.”
Not what I had been expecting. She wasn’t out here to yell at me for running out on her after sex. She was warning me off Sienna. Interesting.
“She’s the mother of my nephew, so I can’t stay away from her. She’s family.”
Hillary’s eyes went wide. Apparently, Sienna hadn’t told them Micah was a Falco. Which was something that bothered me—I didn’t like Dustin’s boy not having his last name.
“Well, shit,” she muttered. “I didn’t know the kid was Dustin’s.”
I just nodded. The back door opened again, catching my attention, and Sienna stepped out. Her eyes immediately found my truck, and they shifted to Hillary at my door. Then she jerked her attention away from us and hurried across the parking lot to her beat-to-shit car.
“Move,” I told Hillary before I swung my door open and headed after Sienna.
“Sienna, wait,” I called out. She paused with her hand on the door handle. “I came here to see you,” I explained, as if I had been doing something wrong. Jesus, I’d only kissed her. If I was here seeing Hillary, it was would be perfectly fine. But for some reason it felt like I had been caught cheating.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “Why?”
“Because we need to talk. And not at your house,” I said, and motioned to my truck. “Come for a ride with me.”
She seemed unsure until her eyes followed Hillary, who was headed inside. When Sienna looked back at me, she let out a weary sigh but walked toward me. “Okay,” she said, and we walked side by side back to my truck.
I opened the passenger-side door and held out my hand to help her up, but she ignored it and climbed up on her own. Which made her sweet ass stick up in a very appealing way in those leggings she was wearing.
I closed the door, the image of her in those tight pants taunting me as I made my way over to my side of the truck. I climbed in and looked over at her. She was wearing sleeves that stopped just below her elbow. Still covering her bruise. Fuck me. “How’s your arm?” I asked her.
“It’s fading and it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.
“I’m a f**kup, Sienna. The bruise on your arm proves that. I shouldn’t get to breathe the same air you do.” I stopped myself before I said anything more. I wasn’t ever going to get over that bruise. It was going to haunt me long after it faded away. “And I’m sorry. About the kiss. It was uncalled for, and I shouldn’t have.”
She tensed up beside me, but only for a moment. Then she relaxed her shoulders and crossed her legs, and damned if that wasn’t fascinating. “Probably not a good idea. You’re right.”
So she agreed. We shouldn’t have kissed. “I don’t want things to get awkward with us.”
She nodded. “Me neither.”
“So, we can just be friends. Or family. We’re family.”
She nodded again.
She didn’t feel like family. I watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I wanted to reach out and see if it was as silky as it looked. I’d missed that opportunity when I’d been eating her alive. My hands had gone from her face to her ass. I should have felt her hair.
“I know I’m, uh . . . not very experienced. I don’t . . . I mean, Dustin was the only one I, uh . . . I did anything with. So I was curious. I haven’t been kissed in a long time.” She shut her mouth and closed her eyes tightly. She was trying to explain her reaction to me, but the fact that no one had touched her in six years was a little more information than I could handle.
How was she so untouched? I knew she’d said she didn’t date, but, hell, how’d she get release? After hav**g s*x before, she’d want it, right? Need it?
“Not even any one-night stands or friends with benefits?” I asked.
She blushed and shook her head, but wouldn’t look at me.
“You don’t need it?” I needed to shut the hell up. This was not a conversation you had with someone who was your “family.”
She shrugged. “Not really. I mean . . . I never understood what the big deal was.”
What? Holy hell. My sixteen-year-old brother hadn’t been experienced enough to do it right, apparently.
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Her blush deepened and she didn’t respond.
Did that mean . . . she got herself off? Motherfucker! Why was I thinking about this? This was not helping me defuse my Sienna lust. The idea of slipping my hand into her panties and bringing her pleasure was so damn tempting.
“You do it yourself,” I said, supplying the answer for her and knowing I needed to shut the hell up.
She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes tightly again. Bingo. She played with her pu**y. Damn, that image was gonna give me some serious shower time later.
“Let’s not talk about this, okay?” She reached for the door handle, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. The desire to smell her was too much. I tugged her over to me and buried my head in her neck and inhaled. Fuck, she smelled good. So damn good. She also sounded good.
Her body leaned in to me and I wanted it. More.
“You smell good, baby. Real good. I bet that pu**y smells even better,” I whispered in a growl as I slid my hand between her legs. She let out a small cry.
Fuck, f**k, f**k. I wanted her. I wanted to hear her as she orgasmed. I wanted to see her play with herself. Was she bare, or were there curly red hairs down there to tease me?
“Dewayne?” she breathed, her chest rising and falling so fast that her cle**age taunted me. She’d always had the best damn tits.
“Yeah, baby?” I replied, running my nose up her neck.
“Gretchen is watching us,” she said, and that was the wake-up call I needed. Shit. I had forgotten where we were.
I moved away from her, missing the smell and heat of her on my hand. I needed to get laid. She was screwing with my head. But first I wanted to go beat off to the image of her touching herself.
“I, we, this, um . . . I should go,” she said, and moved away from me.
I couldn’t argue. She should go before I gave in and attacked her again.
She opened the door, and I managed to remember what I had wanted to ask her. “Tomorrow night I’ll bring dinner. I’d like to visit Micah,” I said.
I didn’t say I wanted to see her, but I did. I so f**king did.
She nodded. “Of course. You can take him out if you want to. You don’t have to stay at my house. I trust you with him.”
She was giving me an out. I wasn’t taking it. As hard as it was getting to keep my hands off her, I wanted to see her too. “I’ll bring dinner. And you’ll eat more. Because nothing on your body is f**king average, Sienna. Understand that. You’re perfect. Too damn perfect.”
Her mouth opened slightly, and then she closed it and quickly got out of my truck. I sat there and watched her as she got into her car and buckled up. I waited until she pulled out of the parking lot before leaving. I didn’t even look Gretchen’s way.
SIENNA
“More,” I whispered into the dark room. “Please, Dewayne, I want more. Do it harder,” I begged. My eyes were closed tightly as Dewayne held his body over me, sliding in deeper and deeper. I lifted my legs up his back and buried my face in the pillow beside me as I cried out from how good he felt. How beautiful his body was as he worked over me. His naughty words told me how sexy I was and how good I felt.
I worked my fingers harder, letting the fantasy play out until my body shuddered with release. It was the same fantasy I had been using since Dewayne had walked into my house the first day we’d returned. It was getting more and more detailed. Like tonight, he’d told me I smelled good as he tasted me and ran his tongue where no one’s had ever been.
I was getting worked up again and I needed to sleep. Fantasies of Dewayne could go on for hours. I had no shame in the darkness of my room. He was here with me, and I loved everything he did. When he’d asked me today if I pleasured myself, I was sure it was all over my face. I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
Him knowing he starred in my nightly playtime would be humiliating.
The fact that I got off on the fantasy of him inside me was interesting, since until Dewayne’s return to my life I’d normally fantasized about other stuff. The act of actual intercourse had never held that appeal for me. But the idea of Dewayne being over me and between my legs made me hot and bothered. Maybe I was just old enough to enjoy it now. I’d been so young then.
My phone dinged and I reached for it. No one ever texted me this late.
Dewayne: You awake?
Why was he texting me? Oh God, had he known somehow that I had just used his body to pleasure myself?
I let my finger hover over the phone keys a moment, then finally gave in and replied.
Me: No
Dewayne: Are you in bed?
What was he asking that for?
Me: Yes
I should ignore this.
Dewayne: Do you sleep nak*d?
Okay. Wait a minute. This was not us being friendly. And I couldn’t handle him doing this hot-and-cold stuff.
Me: What do you want? This conversation is going in a bad direction.
He didn’t reply right away. I thought for a moment my scolding him had made him back off. Then my phone lit up again.
Dewayne: I know. I’m sorry.
That was it. Why did I feel so disappointed?
Dewayne: It’s just if you’re gonna play with yourself I want to know. I want to see it. Or at least you can tell me about it.
Holy crap. The tingling between my legs startled me. He was only texting me and I was reacting to him. I should turn off my phone and forget this conversation. Tomorrow he would regret it and push me away. He was probably drunk.
But maybe he wouldn’t remember it . . . maybe.
Me: I’ve already taken care of that.
I pressed send before I could stop myself.
Dewayne: Motherfuck. Do it again. Tell me about it. Or let me FaceTime you and watch your face. God, let me watch your face.