Chapter 08 - Mixed Signals.

Later that Day…

Dakota Roth…

Jeremy offered me a job. A real job. A job that would put my recently acquired qualifications into practice. I would be making my own money - I could afford to pay my dad rent, chip in on the bills and maybe even save a little until I could afford my own place here in town. I hadn't lied to Jeremy when I told him that I didn't plan on going back to Scotland if I could help it.

My mom had burned the bridge between us, and I had no intention of trying to rebuild it. I had put too much of myself into trying to care for her only to have it thrown back in my face. I had sacrificed my own wants and needs to ensure she was safe and had everything that she needed only for her to accuse me of trying to steal some greasy pervert from her. As if I would ever have willingly allowed that piece of shit to touch me. I worked myself to the point of exhaustion only for her to take, take, take, and then take some more until I truly had nothing left to give. I loved her and prayed for her to get better and all of that was thrown in my face with accusations of keeping her from the one man she had always loved, and venom spewed assaults about wanting everything she had including the piece of shit she currently shared a bed with. God, just the thought of Stuart made me want to hurl.

How could my own mother think that I would do that to her? Especially after all I have done for her. It is somewhat insulting if I am being honest with myself. So, no, there will be no going back to Scotland, not even if she begged.

I have to start thinking of myself - I never really realised just how far down I had been pulled by her. I was just so used to pushing my own needs and wants aside until I had almost convinced myself that what I wanted and needed the most was for my mom to be well and safe and happy. How messed up is that?

Staring at the white smooth ceiling of my bedroom - I had stumbled back here not long after Jeremy offered me a job. I needed some space from him because he was sending some seriously messed up mixed signals.

Signals that I have to admit felt so damn good with him touching me the way he had. I can still feel the ghost of his touch along the back of my hand and up my forearm - the way it felt like there were millions of tiny currents of electricity zapping along the pathways of my veins, lighting me up like no man has ever managed to light me up before. Closing my eyes and I can still see the way his eyes feasted hungrily on my body - I guess, Charleigh was right, he does want me, but I can't ignore the fact that he shut it all down before he even really acted on it.

Much to my dismay. But if that was the game he wanted to play, I could play. I don't think he really understands just how good I am at denying myself the things that I want. Living with a bipolar mother has taught me how to be self-sufficient and that means I know I can survive perfectly well on my own. I don't need anyone for anything. So, when he pulled back from me, I instantly shifted back into calling him uncle and avoiding his gaze once I caught the frown that creased his brow at the formal greeting of him.

Good. Let him be as confused as I am right now. Fuck, I may just go one step further and take him up on his offer to set me up. That would show him just how good I am at pushing through. If he is going to be hot and cold with me, I will turn my setting to indifference and survive just as I always have.

I don't need anyone.

Yet, why does it feel like I need him on a level that I have never experienced before? I mean I know that I want him - my body's reaction to him is pretty conclusive at this point but it feels more than simple want. It is as if I can't breathe when he isn't close, like I am floundering around in the dark, trying desperately to find my footing.

A knock on my bedroom door pulls me from my musings, "yeah?"

"Can I come in, 'Kota?" Speak of the Devil.

"Sure-" scrambling until I am sitting up with my back against the headboard and am just pulling the neckline of my little vest-top back up to ensure full coverage of my breasts when he steps into my room, upon seeing me he stops dead in his tracks, his eyes dropping to my chest and his pupils blow out so fast that I wonder if he is having trouble seeing. A thrill of excitement snakes up my spine at the blatant hunger now flashing in his eyes, "what's up, Uncle Remy?!" Ok that was a cheap shot, but it once again pleased me to see his brow crease in a frown.

Now I could go easy on him, but part of me wants to see just how far I can push him. Is it bratty? Absolutely. Am I frustrated by what he did earlier? Without a doubt, so with that in mind and the need to make him feel as frustrated as I am, I slowly slide my hands down over my breasts, in the guise of straightening out my top and that is the exact moment I see his resolve snap.

Letting my bedroom door close a little more forcefully than I am sure he intended, he crosses my room in three giant strides, dropping down onto the bed next to me and with a gentle firmness his hands frame my face and pull me towards him.

Not quite touching my lips, but I can feel the chemistry sparking wildly between us and instantly I am breathless and my chest heaving breaths into my system, my breasts grazing against his forearms with how close he is to me. The strong citrus scent of his shower-gel is refreshing and sharp sinking into my subconscious so that I can recall this moment in more vivid clarity at a later time. "You like torturing me, 'Kota?" He growled against my lips.

"I didn't-I don't -"

"You know I should put you over my knee right now?!" He demanded, "spank you for turning me on so damn much!" Holy shit. My pussy is trying to eat my panties as the fierce wave of arousal seeps out of me.

"Why don't you?" I dare to ask as I swallow a little harder at my sudden boldness.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" His forehead rests against mine, his eyes completely blown out and his own breath is as rapid and ragged as my own, "you want to be punished for making me want you?"

"Ye-yes!"

I have never once been turned on by the thought of pain, I do my best to avoid romance novels steeped in BDSM - but fuck me, I think I may be rethinking my entire belief system. My panties are soaked, my nipples are so hard that I swear they could cut glass and my whole body feels more alive than I have ever felt before.

"I know you do," he growled, "I can practically smell your arousal from here-" his tone is hoarse, restrained even, "I like the thought of my red hand-print on your beautiful ass, my mark so everyone would know who you belong to!"

"Oh God-" my response is pure basic instinct at this point, "kiss me?"

As if this was all he had been waiting for, one of his hands slid to the back of my head and angled me to where he wanted me, then his lips brushed against mine, a light, chaste stroke that I swear almost as me cuming right on the spot. My thighs clench together - desperate for friction, hungry for the release that I know is just sparking towards an explosion the likes of which I have never experienced before.

My lips opened to grant his brushing tongue access and then he is pressing harder into me, his tongue delving deeper and deeper into my mouth until my own tongue is caressing his. There is hunger in this kiss. Need. Desperation. Desire and lust. My hands slide slowly up his arms until they are wrapped around his neck, and I pull him down on top of me.

I have never wanted anyone the way I want this man.

This is all new to me.

New sensations that I never felt when I had sex that one and only time. This is what I have been missing out on and now that fire has been stoked, I really don't think that I can stop.

No, I don't want to stop. Not when it feels as if he is claiming me as his own.

Jeremy Danielson…

Dakota said that she wasn't exactly experienced - I have to admit that I am having a hard time believing that right now. The way she is kissing me, the confident sweep of her tongue against mine, the perfect harmony in which her lips are moving with mine, the pliable way she handed me control - I would be hard pressed to find a time when I have had a kiss like this.

Consuming. That is the perfect way to describe how I feel right now.

My mind has gone almost entirely blank as I devour her beautiful mouth in a kiss that screams a secret promise of hidden pleasures - the type of pleasure that I know will change me on a level that I am not entirely sure I am ready to feel. I mean I know that I need to stop this. I know that there is no future here. I know that it is wrong to want her as much as I want her, but I can't seem to stop.

Just one taste. That's what I told myself when I caught sight of her running her hands down over those hypnotic tits. One little taste and then I would tell her that was as far as this was ever going to go. Some might say it is cruel to do this, but I would tell those same people that they have clearly never been tempted by anything in their life. And I am tempted. Desperately. I don't actually even think I am in control of myself right now.

I can feel this kiss right at the very centre of my soul. I can feel it changing me in ways that I never could have predicted.

Talking dirty to her - God, the way her body seemed to light up at the things I said to her, it was a head rush unlike any I have ever felt before. How am I supposed to resist her?

The feel of her fingers diving into my hair has a low growl flow from me right into her and she swallows it down, taking a part of me into her that makes her a little bolder - sliding one hand down from my head to my chest, exploring the planes of my chest and abs. I am vaguely aware of knowing I should put a stop to this. That I should back away and tell her this can't happen, but I am almost blind with my need for her.

I have fought this for days now. I have resisted as much as I can but the more time I spend with her, the more time I spend talking to her and getting to know her, the more it feels like this was inevitable. Like we were always destined to end up here. And the scary part is that I am terrified that I am not going to be able to walk away from her now. Now that I have had this taste. I know that I am risking blowing up my entire life but at this moment I am finding it almost impossible to care.

Jason would kill me, yes. Our friendship would be over and there would be no coming back from it. I know it. I know that that should be more than enough to give me pause. I know it should have me backing away, but it is almost as if I am paralyzed by the moment. Unable to stop. Incapable of pulling back from her. I sink further into her. Trusting that this connection is enough to sustain me. My heart is pounding a new powerful beat in my chest, and I am pretty sure that I am trembling like this is my first time.

With her hands, inching, lower, on my abdomen, I slide one of my own hands away from her beautiful face, grazing my fingers down the long, elegant column of her throat, collaring her for a few beats as she tenses up just a little, it is almost imperceptible but I feel it and quickly loosen my grip until she relaxes once again, then I move slowly further down until my hand is curling around one large tit, squeezing tenderly which has her arch her back, pushing herself further into my touch just as her hand flattened against my hard, throbbing cock.

I don't remember a time when I have ever been this hard. Or this hungry to just claim. Take what is mine and be damned with the consequences. Another growl rumbles up through my chest as she palms me slowly, almost unsurely until I am placing my hand over the top of hers, guiding her actions in a much firmer and faster pace. Allowing me to guide her, she pops her eyes open to find me already watching her; I am ensnared in her sky-blue eyes that are almost entirely black from her blown out pupils. My hips thrust forward as my fingers nip at her fully erect nipple, tugging the hardened bud has her moaning out desperately.

Now I don't know if it was the moan that did it, or if it was realising just how turned on, she was but I am suddenly ripping myself away from her and across the room before she even registers what has happened.

"Rem-"

"I-I - fuck pumpkin, that should never have happened, I'm sorry-" trying my hardest to ignore the pain that flutters across her features, I tear her bedroom door open and flee the one woman who has seriously turned my head since my divorce.

The soft click of the bedroom door breaks my heart right down the centre as I rush for the stairs down to the basement where I lock myself in the bathroom and turn on the shower, thankful that Jason is still asleep, I had waited for him to go back to bed after the last time we went out to shovel the driveway before I snuck up to Dakota's room.

I can still feel the stroke of her tongue in my mouth. I can still feel the soft plush cushion of her all-natural tits. I can still feel the way her hand moved against my shaft. Setting the water to cold, I strip out of my clothes hoping that the cold water will dampen this heat coursing through me.

I can't deny that things with Dakota just got out of hand. That I should have had the self-control to stop myself but here is the thing - the spark that flared between us from the first moment her eyes laid on me at the airport a few days ago, it was always going to end up here. I knew it then and I knew it now - and the scary part is that I can see it happening again. I can see it as if it were some damned prophecy playing out in my head.

Stepping under the water, I feel the cold snap through my body, but I fight the urge to turn the water to warm. I resist the need to climb out and just stand there willing my cock to deflate but I think it's almost at the point of combustion and that means I need release if this is ever going to go down.

Gripping my shaft, I begin to pump up and down, one hand resting on the shower wall as I close my eyes and conjure the image of Dakota lying in that bed, the look in her large innocent blue eyes, the way she kissed me as if she were made specifically for me - I was throbbing within seconds of picturing her soft pale skin; the soft smoothness of that flesh still feels fresh in my mind, my hand strokes faster, harder as I remember the way her body arched into my touch, the feel of her hardened nipple between my fingers as I tugged and pinched the sensitive bud. Before I have time to register it my release spurts out of me, coating the shower wall with my creamy sticky seed and my knees threaten to buckle as I cum harder than I ever have before. It completely ravages my body as it continues to last beyond anything I have ever felt before – my breath laboured as her name falls from my lips in an almost silent roar.

Jesus, you would think it was years since I had last gotten off. When in, truth, it was only last week when I was with a woman.

Giving into the sensations I drop to my knees and stroke my cock until my balls are completely empty and the evidence is slowly circling down the drain and coating the walls above me.

Is this now my future?

Cold showers.

Becoming reacquainted with my hand.

Hiding in my shower to avoid making more mistakes with the one woman I want more than I have ever wanted anyone.

Lying to my best friend.

Feeling completely shameful for wanting a woman I have known since birth.

I know it's wrong. I held her when she was merely hours old. I read her stories when she was sick. Carried her on my shoulders when she begged me. Played tea parties with her and her toys. So many instances that should be a deterrent to what I am suddenly feeling yet, none of those things seem to be enough to stop this consuming sense that this is the woman I am meant to spend the rest of my life with.

I am going to Hell. I am sure of that more than I am of anything else. And as I sit here on the base of my shower; I find myself slowly beginning to crave that burn, almost as much as I am craving Dakota.