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Authors: Jalena Dunphy

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BOOK: Stolen
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He steps back and helps me into the car. When he’s in
and the car is started, we pull out of the lot and back onto the road, but we
aren’t heading toward home. “Where are we going?” I wonder aloud.

“You’ll see. This night isn’t over yet.” He smiles at
me and grabs my now clammy hand.

With a shaky smile and an even shakier voice I say,
“Oh.” I’m too nervous right now to come up with anything
more.   

The drive isn’t as long this time, maybe twenty
minutes, but I don’t know why we’ve stopped, there’s nothing here. “Um, babe,
what are we doing here? There’s nothing here?”

“Sure there is.
We
are here, aren’t we?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” I groan, waiting
for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

I turn in my seat to confront him just as he gets out
of the car. My door opens and I’m pulled into his arms and hugged close to his
chest. I breathe in his scent, fully aware that there’s no other scent out
there that could compare to him. He smells like home; my sanctuary, my
everywhere.

“Come with me. Do you trust me?”

I stare into his eyes and nod. Of course I trust him,
but what is he planning?

“Good!” he says while pulling me along through the
field we’re in.

I yell to him that he has to slow down because I’m in
heels, and either a heel or my ankle is going to break, probably both at this
rate. He chuckles, but slows his pace. He’s like a boy with a new video game,
and I’m anxiously waiting to know what’s making him so excited, then I see it,
and wow!

“Oh my God! Rogan, this is . . . there are no words.”
There really are no words for what I’m seeing. We’ve walked through a field of
grass, but are now in a clearing and, as if it’s lying on the earth for us, is
the biggest moon I’ve ever seen. It looks like if I walked a little farther, I
could reach out and touch it.

I’m so mesmerized it takes me a moment to see the
blanket and wine glasses set up on the ground ahead of me. I turn my attention
to Rogan, who’s gaging my emotions and waiting for my reaction. I throw my arms
around him and jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He clasps his hands
together, so he’s carrying me and while walking us to the blanket never takes
his lips off mine.

I moan ridiculously loud, but my body is burning from
his touch, his scent, and the feel of his lips. He trails kisses across my jaw,
down my neck, and up to the tender spot just under my ear. His voice softly
murmurs in my ear about loving me forever and never wanting to be without me.

Somehow, he lays us both down on top of the blanket
without slamming us hard into the ground or breaking our contact. We never stop
kissing, and now that we’re lying down, our hands have the opportunity to
explore each other’s bodies as we never have before.

I roam over his muscular chest, trailing down his taut
abs before moving back up and over his neck, feeling his heart beating rapidly
against his skin, then down his arms, holding his free hand briefly before
continuing my slow, leisurely trip across his body once more.

He does the same to me, lifting the hem of my dress
slightly to touch more of my bare leg. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sensation,
then moan loudly when his hands find my breasts, skimming over them softly. I’m
burning with a need I didn’t know was possible. I need him closer to me. I need
to feel him everywhere before I combust. “Rogan . . .” I moan. “I need you.
Now. Please.” I beg.

He pulls back enough to look into my eyes. I try to
pull him back to me. I feel lost; he feels so far away, and I can’t take it. I
pull at the back of his neck in vain to get him closer to me. “Listen, babe,
trust me, I want this as much as you, but I didn’t bring you here for this, and
I don’t want you to think I did or that we have to just because we’re here.”

 I can feel his heart beating just as fast as
before, and that, combined with the smoldering look in his eyes, is telling me
he’s using every bit of restraint he has to make sure I’m ready, but I’ll die
right now if he doesn’t do what we both so desperately want to do, what we’ve
waited a year to do. I love him. He loves me and there will never be anyone
else for me. Ever!

I take a calming breath and pull him in for a quick
kiss, which he allows before resuming his distance above me. “I love you. You
love me. There will never be another person for me as long as I live, and I’ve
never wanted anything more than I want this right now. I trust you that you
didn’t bring me here for this, but this is too perfect to let go. Please don’t
make me beg.”

There’s silence between us, but I hear everything
around us. I hear the cicadas, the wind rustling the grass, but above all that,
I hear our hearts beating in tandem, so in harmony with one another that I
think it would be a crime not to listen to their desires.

There’s no going back. There can’t be any going back.
We were made for each other, and everything has been leading up to this from
the moment we met. This is perfect. We are perfect together.

His lips crash into mine, and there are no more spoken
words between us, just the night and our love to remind us that this is real.

It feels like mere moments for our clothes to be shed
and our bodies to be tangled into a human origami masterpiece, but those are
the longest moments I’ve ever experienced.

Rogan’s fingertips trace around my naval and a tingly
feeling stirs low within me. My eyes roll back and a contented sigh escapes my
lips. I feel his fingers make soft circles all over my belly and from side to
side over my hips, and when one finger, followed by another, slide into my wet
folds an unabashed moan is unleashed like a primal being having been imprisoned
somewhere deep within me. The movements his fingers are making are starting to
unravel me at my very core. Nothing has ever felt like this, but I need more.

I cry out, gripping his shoulders, pulling his lips to
mine—I need to feel him, all of him. I’m starting to spiral out of control, but
I need him closer. I may drown in my own desire if I can’t have him now, and I
want him . . . now!

As if sensing what I want, what I need, Rogan pulls
his fingers slowly out of me. I feel empty, but when he prepares to enter me, I
welcome the full feeling I’m about to experience.  

He slows our kisses to soft, gentle, caresses keeping
his eyes glued to mine while he enters me. He’s watching every expression as it
crosses my face. There isn’t pain as I expected, but he stills to let me
acclimate. After that, I’m flooded with feelings. I never knew it would be like
this.

My body is hotter than it was before—I didn’t think
that was possible—and a feeling is building in me like nothing I’ve ever felt.
I can’t breathe, I can’t focus on anything but this feeling.

My eyes squeeze shut, despite my effort to keep eye
contact, and soon I can’t help but scream when the sensation takes over. My
breaths are coming out in short bursts, and soon Rogan’s panting in the same
way. My mind can’t keep up with what my heart is feeling. I don’t know if I can
even describe it. This is what love is and never will I forget this. I’m
forever changed, and I can thank this beautiful soul for changing me in the
most wonderful ways.

We lie under the stars, drinking sparkling cider for
as long as possible, but I have to get home soon and the drive is going to take
a while, so we pack the blanket, the empty bottle of sparkling cider, and our
wine glasses and stroll to the car, holding hands with sated looks on both our
faces. I don’t know how I’m going to hide this from mom. I’m sure she’ll know
as soon as I walk in the door. Oh my God! I hope that’s not true; that would be
a horribly embarrassing way to end this night.

Rogan loads everything into the trunk while I wait by
my door, like he instructed, and I take the opportunity to grab everything I
can about tonight and lock it away in my brain for the times I can’t be around
him, which are going to seem so much worse now than before, and it was already
difficult.

He opens the door for me, but holds me close before I
can get in. He presses his lips, which are swollen now from our thorough
explorations, to mine and kisses me sweetly before pulling away, leaning down
with his forehead resting on mine. “I didn’t know it was possible to love you
even more than I did before, but I do. You’re beautiful and I am beyond happy
right now. I just want you to know that.

“Thank you for loving me and thank you for the
greatest night of my life.” He opens the door for me and because of a lack of
words, I smile and get into the car.

The car ride is comfortably silent. We never let go of
each other’s hands, just take turns strumming over the other’s tender skin,
loving the contact and feeling higher than any drug could induce, I’m sure.

When we pull up in front of my house it’s five minutes
before midnight, just in time for curfew. The air in the car has become thick
and heavy. Neither of us wants to let this night go. We both sit perfectly
still, neither making any attempt to leave, but there’s an imaginary clock I
can hear ticking, counting down the seconds before the bubble bursts and the
night must end.

Finally, Rogan gets out and walks in front of the car
toward my door to open it for me. It feels like everything is in slow motion as
I wait for him to open my door, as I wait for him to walk me to my front door,
and as I wait for our last kiss before it’s tomorrow.

He holds my hand until we’re standing on my porch in
front of the door that will soon be shutting behind me and ending this beyond
perfect night. He raises my hand to his lips, turning it over, placing a kiss
on the inside of my wrist, directly on my pulsing heart. I gasp, blinking back
tears.

He presses my just kissed hand to his chest, putting
it directly over his rapidly beating heart, and says, “You do this to me. You
own me in every way and my heart beats for you. I love you, baby. Sleep well.
I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips, then
waits for me to get inside before heading toward his car.

I miss him already.

When I get in, mom isn’t up, which I am
extremely
thankful for. I don’t know what to do with myself, though; I’m so wired I can’t
sit still. I’m making myself dizzy pacing my bedroom, and while I thought about
taking a shower, I don’t want to wake anyone, and I’m not ready yet to wash
this night away. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the night—the sweet
smell of his breath after the cider, the smell of the dew on the grass and the
smell that was uniquely us.

I’m lost in a daydream when I hear my phone vibrate
letting me know I have a text.

Rogan:
Just got home and
can’t sleep, took a chance that you were still awake, too. Are you?

Me:
I am. I couldn’t sleep
either. I’m so wired.

Rogan:
I know. So am I.
I wish I could be with you right now. I miss you already.

Me:
I missed you before you
left. I am hopeless for you. It’s pathetic really. Lol

Rogan:
Ouch! I have a
male ego here that you are kinda stomping all over.

Me:
Sorry for your ego. If
you were here I would stroke it for you ;)

Rogan:
Is that so? Maybe
I should come over then.

Me:
As much as I wish you
could, my mom would freak and I would never see you again!

Rogan:
Probably true.
Guess I’ll have to wait for you to stroke my ego later :)

Me:
Have I ever informed you
that you are a total perv!

Rogan:
Many times and I
believe you love it!

Me:
You caught me, but still
. . .

Rogan:
Would you really
want me any other way?

Me:
Absolutely not!
Are you free to hang out in the morning?

Rogan:
Depends.

Me:
On what?

Rogan:
Well, I may or may
not have a thing going with this incredibly sexy girl I know, and if I do,
well, then I don’t think I’ll be free, but if she doesn’t want to be with me
anymore then I guess I am.

Me:
I think you do have a
thing going with the girl you speak of and I think she wants to see you
tomorrow morning. I have it on good word that she may even be in the market to
stroke some male ego.

Rogan:
;) See you at 8?

Eight o’clock in the morning? Wow, that’s
only . . . Oh my God, it’s already 1:30 in the morning!

Me:
I need to go to bed now
if you want to see me in less than 7 hours!

Rogan:
As much as I want
to see you, I think you may be on to something. We should both probably get
more sleep than that. How about 8:15? Lol No seriously though, I’ll pick you up
at 9, then I am yours for the day. Ok?

BOOK: Stolen
8.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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