Dismissing Dakota (book 2)

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Chapter 17

[a/n: warning, mature content]

Silvia’s POV

The length of our relationship could easily be counted on one hand. We couldn’t boast about it; it was a short stretch of time. I was sure the average High School couple had endured less break-ups and arguments –combined—than us. The rekindling of our relationship was even shorted. Less than a day.

Less than half a day and I couldn’t find myself stopping him from kissing me, deeply. Holding me, closely. I couldn’t blame this on anyone. We both had a bad habit of rushing into things, rushing into our feelings too fast. I wanted him as badly as he wanted me.

Neither of us ever stopped to see if it was right or wrong. There was no regulation over our emotions when things got started.

Dakota could look at me once, and in that split-second, I found myself falling to my feet. He knew that, I knew that. I’m sure everyone knew that if they studied my eyes long enough. Studied the way I stood by him in any social setting, or how I gazed at him from across a room.

Even when I disliked him, that heat was there. I had a hard time figuring out if it had always been there, since the start.

Regardless, I hated the truth behind that. I hated how obvious it was that I, Silvia Ellington, was wrapped up in my feelings when it came to Dakota. Was it like that for him? Did he feel the same pull, holding him by the heart?

“I want to do something,” I said again, directly looking at him when I spoke. “I want to do something for you.”

Dakota nibbled his lower lip, and then grazing it with his teeth. He used the pad of his thumb against my jaw, lining it up with his finger. A shudder rumbled through me. I wouldn’t be able to make it to my room if he tried something on me now, here in the dining room.

It was wrong on every level. I didn’t know what came over me when he did that. I was reckless, and oddly enough, I liked it that way. I liked the way my unpredictable actions were controlled by his touch.

Dakota breathed. “I don’t...I don’t have any protection.”

“I didn’t mean sex.” I paused. “Well, a form of sex, but not what you’re not thinking of.”

His mouth fell open. Something clicked. “Wait. Uh...”

“What? You don’t want to?”

“No, that’s not it,” he said at rapid speed. “I just...well, I should probably take a shower before we do anything. Then, we can go to your room.”

“I don’t see why it has to be exclusively in my room.” I brought my hand up to his charcoal colored hair, brushing stands over his forehead. His excitement in his eyes vanished, flickering down at the hardwood floors.

A while ago, Hunter had told me about Dakota before he got his tattoos. He described how he wore shirts with long sleeves to shield the scars he had gained.

After a car crash with his father, he was left with marks up to his neck –explaining the bird tattoo he had on the side of his throat. You could only see the faint outline of torn skin under the ink, but it was barely visible unless you were really trying to look.

“I could go with you. Unless you think that’ll make things too crowded.” I said.

"It won’t,” Dakota blurted. The excitement from earlier reappeared and he took my hand, lifting me up from my chair and on to my feet. “You go in first. I’m going to go check on my clothes in the dryer, and then meet you up there.”

Last night, Dakota stepped in mud when he was leaving his house and the bottom cuffs of his jeans got dirty. I threw them into the washer this morning and then transferred them into the dryer at some point during my lame attempt at making us breakfast.

“Oh, okay then,” I said, soft as a whisper. I gave him a brief kiss goodbye before running upstairs.

Out of curiosity, I made a detour to Maven’s room. As much as I hated the guy, I knew he had something in there I was interested in getting. He brought up Faye into his room a lot of the time when my dad and his mom were out of the house.

Walking into the room, I looked for the light switch and went into his drawers, flinging things around.

“Nothing,” I huffed, thrown off at the fact that an eighteen-year-old boy with a girlfriend didn’t have a stash of rubbers at his disposal.

I’d made a small mess while dumping things out of his drawers. Making a mental note to come back to clean up, I closed his bedroom door and dashed over to my room. Sadly, empty handed.

Silvia, don’t rush into this, I thought. It could’ve been a sign. Dakota never slept with anyone before, so I didn’t want to come right up and demand it from him like some sex-deprived housewife. Taking it slow was a better option.

We just got back together. I needed to cool down my hormones, take a breather, and remind myself why we were starting over in the first place. We were trying again in the hopes of improving upon what we had started.

There was so much going on during our first go try that we missed the big red flags, screaming at us that we were forming an unhealthy foundation that could only fall one way –downwards. Downwards into an ugly, awful spiral.

Today wasn’t a good ...I started to think, opening the door of my bedroom. The complete thought didn’t have time to compose into a full sentence.

A partially clad Dakota was looming at the doorway of the bathroom that connected to my room, his hands firmly placed on the waistband of his boxer briefs, ready to pull. His back was to me, unaware at the fact that I was full-on staring at him with my mouth open like a creep.

Okay. I had to regroup so I could straightenout my intentions. Pronto. Half of me wanted to go with my original plan by taking things slow with Dakota, but the other half –the more dominate half—wanted to throw caution to the wind.

To hell with taking it slow, the rebelling portion of my brain proclaimed, I want it fast.

“Get a grip.” I said aloud, grabbing Dakota’s attention and making him spin on the balls of his feet to face me. Great. This wasn’t helping. Here I was, fully clothed and flustered, and there he was, wearing nothing but his tight boxer briefs. And when I say tight, I meant extremely tight as if they were painted on.

Boys shouldn’t be allowed to be this hot. It was a danger to my sanity.

My obedience was fleeting the longer I racked my gaze over his toned body. “I uh, didn’t know you were going to go in first. I thought you’d wait...for me.”

Dakota snapped at my half-shut eyes, staring elsewhere. I looked away from his chest and glanced up to his face. “You weren’t here so I figured I should go in. Where did you run off to?”

I was looking for condoms because I’m a hormonal teenage girl who needs to get her shit together and find out if she wants to do the dirty or not with her almost-naked boyfriend.

I was out of touch with my priorities. On one hand I wanted to do everything imaginable with Dakota, and on the other, I understood patience was a better bet with the both of us.

“Uh, well, I got caught up doing something else.” I waltzed across the room, shuffling my feet against the carpet. “It doesn’t matter.”

Dakota looped his arms around me, pressing his lower-half into me and further diminishing my self-control. “Were you in your dad’s room, looking for a condom?”

"Eww. No. I wouldn’t go in there.” I gagged. “I went into Maven’s room. I thought he would’ve had some since I’ve seen Faye sneak out of his bedroom a couple of times. There weren’t any in there though. None that I could find, at least.”

Dakota’s mouth lined up met neck. A shiver coursed through me in anticipation. “That’s okay.”

The tip of my tongue glossed my trembling bottom lip, allowing the reality of what was soon to begin settle in. I wasn’t aware as to how much I missed him until our lips collided. I gave myself permission to fall into sweet pleasure at the taste of his lips and the warmth of his hand, grazing my backside. His rough, callous fingers brushed the helm of my shirt, yanking it upwards as the kiss deepened.

Momentarily, I broke the kiss to take off my shirt. Dakota assisted me, tossing it on top of his discarded jeans. He scanned my body and admired my bra by lightly tracing his nail with the curves. Nervousness digging itself into my mind, I bashfully looked in the opposite direction. “Don’t do that.” He insisted, raising my chin with his finger and forcing me make eye contact with him. “I don’t want you to feel self-conscious around me.”

It was hard to look away. “I know. But that’s easier said than done. I can’t stop that. I don’t know what’s going through your thoughts...I can only exude what I’m feeling times ten.”

Dakota’s hand dropped and he nuzzled his head onto my shoulder. “The only thing I’m thinking of is how glad I am to have you back.”

My heart flourished—something I wasn’t proud of. It was girly and had me feel giddy. All things I wasn’t and couldn’t be. Dakota was the person I didn’t mind being overly emotional with though.

He raised his hand and smoothed his open fist up my spine, pausing at the hook of my bra. A rush of cool air hugged my exposed chest as the article of clothing fell to floor, along with any pre-established assumptions that I could resist my temptations around Dakota.

I was hanging off the deep end, ready to claim that I was defenseless under his piercing blue gaze. At the snap of a finger, I transformed from having a sharp-tongue to being tongue-tied when his mouth covered mine. I sank deeper into my self-induced dreamy trance as his hands lowered to my jeans, unzipping it and tugging at them.

I lost track of time.

We we’re standing in my room one second, and the next Dakota had me pinned against a wall in my restroom. Dakota had the water running before I had appeared at my front door. The steam coming from the shower was billowing to the ceiling, creating a thick mist. My hair, untied and tumbling past my waist, was beginning to stick to my face like glue because of the humidity in the room. Dakota’s own hair did the same, appearing inkier than usual across his pale complexion.

Stripped down to nothing, I felt inexplicably comfortable with Dakota. His words had hit something inside, resonating well with the rest of me. I took in a slow breath and ran a filter though my chattering, chaotic thoughts.

Drawing away from the kiss, I draped my arms over his shoulders and stared up at him, not meaning to do anything but that. Look. Stare. Admire. I wanted to see if he had it in his eyes, too. The desperation and the drive that certainly was pulsing through me. Like I had hoped, it was. It was there. My chest ached at the realization of that. In a good way.

“I love you,” I whispered. “And that scares me.”

His brows crinkled. “Why does that scare you? I wouldn’t imagine ever hurting you again. I would sacrifice my own happiness if it meant I could go back and prevent what I did to you ever happening in the first place.”

“That’s not why I’m scared,” I went on to say and slid my flat palms vertically down his chest. More so to distract me and prevent from crying in his presence. “I’m scared because I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love you. I’m scared because I know I’ll screw it up somehow and you’ll leave. I’ve had that happen more than once in my life. Not just physically leave, like my father did. But emotionally leave, too.” I gulped, fighting against the emotions brewing inside me like a storm. “I’m scared because—”

“I’m just as scared as you,” he interjected, matching the soft tone of my voice with his. A whisper sounded peculiar in Dakota’s rugged voice, almost unnatural. “I’m not going to let that happen though. You know why? Because I know, no matter how many countless times either of us mess up, I’ll always want to come to you. And as long as you keep holding on, I’ll promise to hold on to everything we’ve ever built –from here on out.”

The corner of my vision blurred.

Dammit. Well, there goes trying to not cry.

I swallowed a breath. “Promise?”

“I swear on it.” Dakota croaked. He coughed, trying to shield the wobbliness, but it was too late. I had caught on. “Lastly, there’s no way you’re getting rid of me that easily. I’ve stuck around this long. Give me some credit.”

“I could turn into a crazy cat lady in twenty years.”

“I don’t mind that.” He grinned. “When I swear on something, I mean.”

He sealed the promise with the touch of our lips. Jubilance over washed the sadness that coated my body like a second skin. My worries had only partially been dismissed from my mind. They still lingered in the outskirts. The trust I had for Dakota was battered and bruised. I had to teach myself to take his words for what they were.

Dakota tangled his right hand into my hair, cupping the side of my face and rubbing his thumb along my cheek. Out of habit, I leaned into it and hummed. He moved his eyes over my body, biting the inside of his bottom lip while examining me. His voice grew huskier when he said: “You’re going to be the death of me, Silvia.”

I smiled to myself. “I’m alright with that.”

Without much warning, Dakota scooped me up off the tiled floor and into his arms, leaving me with no choice but to wrap my legs around him. I held on for dear life. “What are you doing? Let me go.” I commanded, laughing in between breaths. “You’re insane.”

Of course, he didn’t take any of this to heart. Using one hand, Dakota pulled back the shower curtain and I shut my eyes when we entered. His mouth found mine as he brought me back to the floor. Hot water splashed on to my shoulders, spraying me with a mist of heat down to my toes. Not even in my wildest dreams would I have thought up an scenario like this one.

The eagerness in his kiss contradicted the softness of his hands, roaming over my shoulders and down my back. An inflow of shock flooded me, piqued my curiosity by his growing erection.

Well hello to you, too, South Dakota.

I suppressed the laugh, finding humor in my own inside joke. This wasn’t the time nor place to crack such jokes. My heart was on cloud nine, floating with the song birds on how high Dakota made me feel. I shifted my head to his throat, making a trail to his collar bone.

I teased my teeth over the surface, kissing him and winning me a murmured groan of approval from Dakota. The groan altered when I coiled my fingers around his length, pumping my hand up and down. He relaxed back on to the cold shower walls, eyes screwed shut and mouth half-open as I kept at a steady pace.

Pressure built up in my stomach. A little part of me wanted to hear him tell me to speed up, go faster, make him closer to the edge. He didn’t do any of that. He sucked in shallow breaths every now and then, in tune with the rhythm of my motion.

Because his eyes were closed, I had full advantage to get creative. Dakota caught on to what I was doing by the time I kneeled down in front of him and drew his ćock into my mouth. The water splashing from the shower head felt heavier at this low level, beating against my shoulder blade like bullets.

Pouting my lips, I concentrated on the tip, knowing that was the most sensitive part. I worked my hand up his shaft, simultaneously bobbing my head and going in further. Dakota punched the wet tiles, closed fists colliding with the wall as I picked up the tempo.

Gradually, he brought his hand to my head and softly pulled my hair, strangely making me enjoy it. “You need to slow...down or I’m going to...finish.”

He had spoken too soon. Unpleasant salty moisture hit the roof of my mouth. I coughed for a breath and let the taste wash away by running my tongue through the water. Holding by my waist, Dakota stood up to my feet. I’d never seen his cheeks so red. Partially from embarrassment, I was assuming.

I pressed my lips to his bright, rosy cheeks. Flashing him a sincere smile, I spun to the shower’s knobs to turn off the water. Dakota reached around from behind me, grabbing the showerhead. “We’re not done yet. I want to return the favor.”

. . .

I was ten years old the last time I took a nap. One shower with Dakota, and I was knocked out by the time I went to dry myself with a towel. We lazily got ourselves dressed and collapsed into my bed a little after noon. Dakota’s chest made a perfect pillow to rest my head on. We got a good two hours of sleep before waking up again.

It wasn’t willingly.

There was a loud knocking noise downstairs, coming from the front door. Since I was a heavy sleeper, it woke Dakota up before it affected my sleep. “Who do you think it is?” I asked, putting on my house slippers.

“I don’t know. Maybe your family got home early?”

“No way. This isn’t them.” I ran to my window to double check and I was right. Their car wasn’t in the driveway. It was Ronnie’s. What could she possibly what? It felt so out of the blue, driving up to my house on short notice.

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