Chasing Stardust: A Novel By Erica Lucke Dean - 24

Lady Grinning Soul

No sooner does the tail end of the bear disappear into the shadows than Dash comes running into the clearing, armed with a strip of condoms and another pack of wet wipes. “Holy hell, was that a . . . ?”

“Yes.” With my hands shaking and my knees about to give out, I flash a proud grin. “But don’t worry. I took care of it.”

Pocketing the foil squares, Dash surveys the scattered chocolate wrappers and graham cracker packages at his feet. His gaze moves into the tree line again, and he palms his neck. “What— how ?”

“I uh . . .” The sting of embarrassment rises in my cheeks as I nod toward the discarded cup. My nose wrinkles at the faint trace of fresh urine in the air. My self-defense tactics may have been somewhat unorthodox, but at least I got the job done. “I peed on him.”

For half a second, I think maybe he didn’t hear me. Then his face splits in a wide grin, and he barks out a loud laugh. “Looks like you finally found a use for your special talent.”

“Very funny.” Folding my arms over my chest, I tear my gaze from his, swapping embarrassment for a healthy dose of exasperation.

Either ignoring—or blissfully unaware of—my shifting mood, Dash collects a few stray marshmallows lying in the dirt and flicks them into the glowing embers. Then his gaze lands on the wet spot under the discarded cup. “I can’t believe you fought a bear with nothing but a cup of pee.”

I shrug and shoot an exaggerated glance at the yellow Pokémon character guarding my lady bits. “I must’ve left my Taser in my other underwear.”

As if just noticing my current state of undress, Dash’s smile slips. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze drifts from my exposed shoulders to my bare legs.

A rough sound rolls up his throat, and my nerve endings flare to life. I’m afraid to even breathe as he traces the contours of my body with his eyes, as if memorizing every dip and valley, every line and curve between the tips of my toes and the top of my head.

A dull throb settles in my center as the thrill of anticipation evaporates every drop of my momentary irritation like water on a hot skillet. I release a jagged breath, drawing his attention back to my face.

Our gazes lock as we stand there in the clearing, the air between us crackling with unspoken promises. Moonlight sparkles in his mismatched eyes as he drinks me in. Then he licks his lips, and a slow grin curves his mouth. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m already putty in his hands.

Quickly closing the distance between us, he hooks an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into an embrace, shifting his weight and opening his stance until I settle between his parted legs.

“You did good,” he murmurs, and his lips brush the shell of my ear.

My knees threaten to give out, and I melt into him, burying my face in his hard chest as tiny ripples of electricity dance down my spine. He smells of campfire, burned sugar, and the unique scent I’ve come to associate with Dash. If only it were possible to bottle that fragrance and keep it forever.

“Taking on a bear was pretty badass.” His hot breath raises goose bumps over my cool skin.

I suck in a breath and let it out quickly, wishing we could rewind to before the bear showed up. “Badass or not, it wasn’t what I had in mind for this evening.”

“The evening doesn’t have to be over. Not if you don’t want it to be.” His heart races beneath my cheek, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, as if contemplating the weight of his own words.

“But . . .” Torn between the dangers lurking in the dark and the desperate need building within me, I gaze up at him and drag my bottom lip through my teeth. “What about the bear?”

“You chased him away, right?” He glides his stubbled cheek along my jaw and traces a trembling hand up my spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Yogi could be anywhere, but Dash’s fingers stroking over my bare skin chase away the fear until I can’t focus on anything but him.

“What if . . .”

The thought dies on my lips, my concentration shattered as he nips my earlobe, clamping down just hard enough to send blood rushing from my brain to points south.

With a dark chuckle, he releases the lobe and soothes the sting with his tongue. “If what?”

My stomach bottoms out as his low purr unleashes another wave of liquid heat.

Abandoning my ear, Dash fixes his lips to the sensitive spot behind it, resting his fingers in the notches between my vertebrae while he ravages my neck. Every brush of his lips, every sweep of his tongue, pulls me under, drugging me, loosening my muscles and turning my bones to jelly.

My thoughts scatter like ashes in the wind as I cling to him, twisting my fingers in the back of his shirt, lost to the sensation of his lips, his teeth, and his tongue, caressing the column of my throat.

“If what?” he asks again, and his mouth curves into a smile against my neck, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

My lips fall open to respond, but my mind goes blank. If he thinks he can coax any sort of rational thought from me while he slowly kisses his way to my collarbone, he’s sorely mistaken. I can barely coax breath from my lungs.

Dash skates his large palms over my shoulders and down my sides, making my knees go weak and my core clench as his fingertips graze the swell of my breasts. Nonsensical ramblings about the bear tumble from my lips before I can snatch them back. Screw the bear. I’d willingly face down an army of predators for another minute of this delicious torture.

“Don’t worry.” He locks his gaze on mine and rests his wandering hands on the soft curve of my hips, lazily tracing the elastic waistband of my Pikachu panties with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll protect you.”

Lost in the hypnotic thrall of his eyes, I mutter, “Who’s going to protect you ?”

Dash brings his lips to my ear once again, his fingers flexing before sinking almost painfully into my hips. “I’m Superman, remember?”

His unexpected declaration snaps the remaining threads of my frayed willpower. My pulse quickens as I wrap my fingers around his neck and drag his face down to mine. Our mouths collide in a tangle of lips, tongues, and teeth. Again and again, his mouth slants over mine, his tongue delving inside. Tasting me.

Claiming me.

I don’t care what color crayon he is. I want him. Now.

Without breaking the kiss, Dash walks me backward down the path, toward the Tesla. It wouldn’t be my first time having sex in the cramped back seat of a car, though the expensive upholstery would be an upgrade from the last time—not to mention softer than a sleeping bag on the hard ground. But the lack of space would be too confining. And way too far from where we’re desperately pawing each other under the stars.

Decision made, I dip a hand under his shirt, splaying my fingers across his taut abdomen, exploring every ridge and valley as I steer him toward the tent. He groans into my mouth, and the ache building between my legs becomes almost unbearable. The urge to drag him to the ground again overwhelms me, but I shove it back, squeezing my thighs together to answer the need.

Dash’s large hands palm my ass, and he lifts me off the ground, guiding my legs around his waist and adjusting my position until his length rests in the cradle of my thighs. I shift my hips, and the hardness straining behind his zipper twitches, unfurling another wave of unquenchable need in me and drawing a low curse from Dash. With nothing but a thin strip of cotton separating my wet heat from the bulge in his jeans, I shift again, shamelessly riding him like a teenager on prom night.

As if he can hear every naughty thought skittering through my mind, Dash picks up his pace, slowing only long enough to scoop Mom’s ashes from the underbrush. A different kind of warmth spreads through my chest as he gently leans the urn against the side of the tent, making sure my mom is safe before unwinding my legs from his hips and setting me down.

He gazes down at me, cupping my face in both hands as if he’s afraid to let go. Afraid I might disappear if he blinks. “Zoey, if you’re not sure, we don’t—”

I press a finger to his lips. “Yes. We do. I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

Dash wordlessly takes my hand, slipping his fingers through mine and towing me into the tent. He releases me long enough to zip the flap and switch on the battery-powered lantern before turning his attention back to me. He doesn’t waste time, dragging his T-shirt over his head and tossing it aside, his taut muscles bunching and flexing with the effort.

Then he reaches for the strap at my shoulder, and my pulse quickens.

This is it.

The faint glow of lantern light reflects in his irises as he slides the narrow elastic down my arm before repeating the action on the other side, exposing my breasts to the night air. He presses a kiss to the center of my chest, directly over my heart, then tugs the flimsy undergarment over my head and drops it at his feet.

A shiver runs through me as he rakes his gaze over every inch of my body. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Heat flares in his eyes as he dips his head and brings his mouth to mine again. This time, the kisses are slow, every sweep of his tongue telling me how much he wants me without uttering a single word. His warm hand cups my throat and slides down between my breasts, guiding me down until he has me sprawled out on the sleeping bag and he’s kneeling above me.

“ Dash . . . ”

I’ve had sex before, more times than I care to remember, yet his gentle touch makes me wish this was my first time. I’ve never felt this revered , this adored .

With his lips still on mine, he resumes his exploration, gliding his fingers over my breasts, pausing to circle each peak before blazing a path down my abdomen to my stomach. Anticipation sends shivers through me as he traces my belly button, teasing a moan from me before hooking his fingers in the elastic waistband of my cotton undies. He drags the thin fabric down my legs and over my feet, tossing them aside before skating a hand from my ankle up my inner thigh to the apex, where his skilled fingers discover the sensitive spot at the center.

Wave after delicious wave of pleasure spikes through me as his featherlight touches turn more deliberate. Every stroke of his fingertips over the swollen bundle of nerves between my legs intensifies the overwhelming need coiling around my insides.

My heart pounds a furious rhythm as I reach for the hardness straining behind his zipper.

“Not yet.” He wraps his free hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me make you feel good first.”

His declaration sends me spiraling. Damian would never put me first. I always had to take what I needed from him.

The moment I nod my consent, Dash increases the pressure on my exposed nerves, making my legs quiver as the coil of pleasure building within me tightens into a knot.

Pinpricks of light burst behind my eyes. “I think I’m going to . . .” My breath stills, my entire body going rigid. Then I break free, shattering into a million shimmering pieces in his hands.

“Your turn,” I whisper, reaching for his fly.

A low growl rolls up his throat as I slip the button through the hole and drag down his zipper. Without missing a beat, he kicks off his jeans, pulls the strip of condoms from his pocket, and tears one open with his teeth. Then he rolls it over his hard length and positions his body between my legs.

Like a greedy cat, I arch into him, my pulse racing as he slowly pushes into me. We fit together like missing puzzle pieces, and I match each thrust of his hips with my own, moving beneath him as if we’ve done this a hundred times before. As if my soul has known his forever.

Fire licks through my veins. The heat in my belly flares as I build toward something bigger than just another release. Something I’m not quite ready to put into words. Something that has the potential to be everything I never knew I wanted.