Set Fire To The Rain
Deacon opened his eyes and his mouth went dry. He stared at Rayna; the expectant expression on her breathtakingly beautiful face that right then was bathed in a stream of mooning from a nearby window was almost too much for him to take in. Just as he always had, he wondered how someone like him had gotten so lucky to have found someone as gorgeous as her—inside and out—to call as his own, as he once had. It baffled him then, as it did now…so many, many years later.
All the years. God.
He thought of them, with hundreds of images playing through his mind at warped speed…moments that had brought them there to where they were.
He thought of that first night at The Bluebird Cafe when he’d first seen her and heard that incredible voice of hers. He’d honestly thought he’d died and gone to heaven—that the beautiful creature with the voice of an angel sitting on the stage couldn’t possibly be real. And when she’d looked over and caught him staring, his gaze transfixed on her, instead of looking away she’d smiled and held his gaze for the rest of the song—confirming his suspicions. He’d been under her unearthly spell ever since, he realized then. Without shame.
He thought of the pure, unadulterated love that had shone in her eyes and on her face when he’d played her the song he’d written for her, “A Life That’s Good”—that special song that coincidentally, their beautiful Maddie loved so much. She hadn’t said the words then, but he’d known she felt them. Just as he had.
He thought of the night they’d made love for the first time…the night the legendary Watty White had approached them with the offer of a record deal at The Bluebird Café after one of their open-mike performances together. Admittedly--in their excitement, they’d rushed things a bit…coming together in a flash of heated desire and lust-slicked bodies…against the wall next to the door just inside of Deacon’s apartment, he recalled with a pang of burning, pent-up need. So focused on their need for one another in that moment, they’d completely forgotten to consider the fact that Deacon had had a roommate at the time. Vince, who eventually became the drummer in their tour band and over the years—one of the their closest friends—had come walking out of his room in just his boxers and bleary-eyed with sleep to voice his frustration at having been disturbed…and to tell them to get a room before returning to his. Deacon, laughing at the ridiculousness of their coupling and getting caught almost buck-naked in the throes by his buddy, had had to practically drag a red-faced-still-dazed-from-an-earth-tipping-climax Rayna back to his room on the other side of the apartment after that…where he’d slowly and thoroughly—and properly—appreciated her. All night long in fact, he remembered fondly…
He groaned as she licked her lips again, feeling as though he was drowning. And in a sense, he was. In her. She was captivating and seductive without even trying…a red-haired goddess and siren standing in the middle of his room wearing nothing but one of his ratty old t-shirts…just waiting for him to make a move. And he wanted to. God, how he wanted to. Still, he held back. “Rayna…we shouldn’t…” he started to rationalize.
She sighed and closed the distance between them; stopping just inches from him…close enough for him to fall intoxicated by her scent in mere moments. “Because why…” she asked, tipping her head to the side as she stared up at him, waiting for his response.
He swore under his breath at how muddled his thoughts were and the effect she was having on him. She was too close. Too tempting. Too damn…Rayna. “God because…because it won’t work,” he finally managed, running a hand through his hair in frustration—both at himself and with her for causing it.
He saw the smirk on her face as her lips twitched with a dangerous smile as her eyes went dark with lust…just before they moved to his bare chest and slowly made their way down to the front of his shorts. “Oh really?” she asked. “Well in that case…I think I can think of a thing or two that might do the trick…” she drawled, her voice raspy with promises of forbidden pleasure.
His breath came quick and sharp when he saw her hands reach out and felt her fingers clasp the tie-string of his shorts, pulling on it. “Jesus, Ray!” he admonished through gritted teeth as he quickly closed his hands around her tiny wrists, halting her movements. “You know damn well I didn’t mean—“ he started, then stopped and swore again as she looked up at him.
She flashed him an innocent look and batted her eyelashes, then smiled knowingly. “What’s that, Deacon?” she asked, laughter in her voice.
He swore hotly then as he dropped her wrists and his hands went to clasp her neck. “Oh to hell with this…” he said before his mouth crashed down on hers.
Rayna couldn’t think. Not with the way Deacon’s mouth was fastened over hers like it was. He was wreaking havoc on her senses and his hands hadn’t even touched her.
She didn’t have to wait long as his hand slid to cup the back of her neck , angling her head so for better access to her mouth and his kiss that was growing hotter by the second, while tracing her jawline with the fingers of his other hand. She heard him murmur something against her lips and then he was freeing her hair from the thick elastic band she’d used to haphazardly throw her hair up into a careless bun earlier. She felt the weight of it fall down past her shoulders…free and down, just the way he’d always liked and preferred she wear it. As such, it came as no surprise to her when moments later both his hands were sliding through the long, silky mass and he was murmuring his approval against her lips.
Coaxing her lips apart with the barest of teeth, he deepened the kiss. On a sigh that could have come from either one of them, she felt his tongue invade her mouth and slide against hers in that sensual, timeless dance, his heady, all-male taste mixing with hers…the combination intoxicating for them both.
He swallowed her gasp of surprise-bordering-on-pain a moment later when one of his hands fisted in her hair and tugged hard, even as a shivering jolt of pleasure coursed through her. He made a growling sound as he tore his mouth from hers, leaving her gasping for some much-needed oxygen as his lips made a quick path down her jaw to the creamy expanse of neck that he’d bared for himself. Finding that spot just below her ear that drove her wild, he fastened his mouth there. He suckled with gentle, steady pressure, occasionally nipping the sensitive skin there with his teeth before quickly soothing the bite with the tip of his tongue. She was coming undone in his arms, her knees going weak from the pangs of pleasure he was inciting within and sending through her. Instinctively, her arms went around his neck as she held on, her hands splaying through the hair at his nape. “G-God, Deacon…” she mumbled, her voice a breathless whisper. The combination of him pulling her hair to the point of pain and his tongue and mouth on her neck had an incredible effect on her, a dizzying effect.
She tightened her hold on his neck as she felt her resolve start to slip and rocked her hips forward, grinning with female satisfaction when her hip-bone collided with his hard arousal and he hissed a breath. Increasing the sucking pressure at her neck, he let go of her hair to let his hands fall to her waist, pulling her into him, closer still. She moaned with approval as she felt his hands dip under the cotton hem of his old t-shirt at her thighs and brushed against her bare skin.
Slowly, with the faintest of touches, he slid his hands up the sides of her thighs to her waist, then lifting his head to grin down at her, she felt his palms slide down to cup her bottom and pull her against him hard.
“Babe…lace??…Christ, Ray…” he groaned as his hands went to the waist of her leopard-print lace panties and toyed with the flimsy material between his fingers. Instead of slipping beneath the material as she’d expected, he slid his palms upwards, gently kneading the spot above her hip-bones, then letting his fingertips graze along her rib-cage on either side. When he slid his hands around to her back to unclasp her bra, he found that she wasn’t wearing one and swore hotly. “God, woman…” he groaned, swallowing hard as he struggled against his burning need to take and possess her right then and wanting to take his achingly sweet, damn time with her.
Agonizing moments later, the former need won and took over him, spurring him on even as he promised himself that he’d take care of the latter as soon as he finished with the first task. He had to have her, he rationalized. It’d been too damn long.
He hadn’t realized he’d spoken his thoughts aloud until he heard Rayna’s breathless assent. “Take me…have me…”
“Take me…Have me…” Rayna heard herself say and smiled even as the realization of her own words thrilled her. She knew Deacon was holding back…she had felt it in the light caress of his hands when he’d touched her. She knew the pleasure that could come with a slow joining, but right then…she wanted him too badly. She needed him…needed him to take her, to possess her. She wanted to be his…even if it was just for right then…or for one night. He was right. It had been too long. It’d been months since the night of the festival when he’d loved her without words…had shown her gentleness with his touch after a night of callous cruelty. He’d erased those horrible memories with his sweet kisses and even sweeter caresses. He’d taken care of her that night. He’d given her what she needed. And now…tonight…it was her turn to give…to let him take what they both so desperately wanted and needed right then. “Please Babe…”
He heard her soft plea and it was all the approval he needed. He took her mouth again as he gripped the hem of the shirt and soundlessly lifted it up her body and over her head as she raised her arms to assist, finding her mouth as soon as the shirt was clear and off of her. He tossed it to the floor thoughtlessly, his attention elsewhere. Devouring her mouth, he backed her up until the backs of her knees hit the bed and with a soft gasp, she fell back onto the covers. He stood over her, taking her in for a moment…grinning with male satisfaction as her breath caught and held under his gaze. She bit her lip with anticipation and lifted her hips as he hooked his thumbs under the sides of her panties, pulling them down her slim, creamy legs and tossing them to the floor with the discarded shirt.
He groaned as let his gaze wander up and down her naked body that was on wanton display for him…only for him. His hard, jutting arousal twitched with such an aching need that it was nearly painful. Swearing, he quickly divested himself of his shorts and boxers, kicking them off his ankles as he joined her on the bed, covering her warm, supple body with his large, strong one.
She moaned as she felt his arousal pulsating against her hip and she tried to move to join them, to become one with him. His weight stilled her as his hands slid down to grip her waist, preventing and stopping her movements. She caught his smoldering gaze and saw the fine precipice of desire he was teetering on…the control that was so close to snapping. She was surprised to find that that was exactly what she wanted…for him to lose control. She didn’t want to be seduced. She wanted to be possessed.
Even when his hand drifted up her body to palm her breast and his mouth soon descended upon it, closing over the aching peak and drawing it into the hot cavern…it wasn’t nearly enough. She arched into him, her hands sliding into his hair again and pulling his head closer to her breast. When she felt his teeth and tongue against her sensitive nipple, alternating between biting and suckling her…she nearly lost it. Warm desire pooled low in her belly and the burning heat started…racing through her veins like wild-fire. Restless, she moved beneath him.
“Babe, please…” she begged as his mouth moved to torment her other breast. As much as she enjoyed the torment, she had another need that took precedence. Sensing her frustration, he lifted his head and gazed down at her, searching her gaze as he shifted above her, spreading her legs beneath him and positioning himself between them.
“Rayna, Babe…I need to know…no regrets?” he asked as he held back, waiting for her reply.
She moaned and shook her head side to side, wildly. “God, no…” she said on a breathless sigh that turned into a gasp as he entered her in one swift, controlled thrust. As her hands slid down and her nails dug into his back, he began moving inside her…each thrust deeper than the last. As the pace quickened and his tenuous control slipped, he took her hands in his, linking their fingers as he held her hands above her head. With their bodies sliding against and coming apart together in wild abandon, he pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered the words. “Good…me neither…”
“Deacon…” Rayna whispered a little while later, her breath hot and moist on his ear that was pressed against the side of her face, resting there after he’d buried his in the crook of her neck following his release.
“Yeah, Babe…” he responded weakly, his chest heaving from exertion of their wild, hurried lovemaking.
“So…what was the third thing?” she asked...grinning in her voice.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he groaned and slipped his arms under her back, lifting her and scooting her around and up so that she was lying correctly on the pillows in the bed, rather than spread diagonally across the middle where he’d taken her moments before. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he hovered over her grinning. “You little Minx…” he proclaimed before taking her laughing mouth with his once again. She needed to be taught a lesson in insolence and he…well, he had the sweetest lesson in mind...
Granted, he knew they hadn’t solved or changed anything. Sex rarely did that for anyone. He was wise enough to know that come morning, their problems would still remain…and the past would still haunt them. But for the few remaining hours of darkness, he was going to revel in the sweet oblivion with the woman he’d loved forever, it seemed. It was what they both wanted…what they both needed. Whether it was good for them or not, he wasn’t sure. And to be honest…right then, he didn’t particularly care…