Flock (The Ravenhood)

Dominic flips another page as I run my finger along his happy trail and over his toned stomach. I note the title, 1984 by George Orwell, as I lay sprawled diagonally facing him where he sits propped against his headboard. The same position I’ve been in for the last ten or so minutes as he’s shamelessly ignored me since I got out of the shower. It’s storming heavily outside, the day seeming night in his bedroom. The rain beats on the roof as he flips another page, the only light in the room coming from the screensaver on his computer and a small bedside lamp.

“You just going to ignore me while you read all day?”

“Yep,” he says, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Well then, I have better things to do.” I move to get up and he slides his hand down my back before molding it over the curve of my ass. My eyes close in remembrance of the past few hours of being at his mercy. I’m sore, more than sore, I’ve been fucked to within an inch of living. My afterglow dims considerably when Sean crosses my mind, and in those seconds, I become paralyzed by guilt. I can’t for the life of me figure out how this is going to be okay for him, for either of them, when I could never handle being in their shoes while they shared their body with someone else. But Sean’s not here, and I don’t know if that’s why I’m taking such liberties with Dominic. I try and remember the words he spoke to me that day after our tryst on the float, but they bring me no relief. Dominic speaks up behind his book.

“He’s not mad at you. And he won’t be. And you have nothing better to do.”

The wind whips around the house. “He’s not back from his hike. It’s been hours and it’s storming. You think he’s okay?”

Dominic flips another page, reading at lightning speed.

“It’s rude, you know, to ignore a direct question.”

“It’s a stupid question. I don’t answer stupid questions.”

“You are a rare bastard.”

A smirk. “A rare bastard you can’t seem to stop fucking.”

“It takes two,” I run my finger along the band of his pants. Apparently, he deems it inappropriate to read in the nude. “Why did you hate me?”

His gaze drifts from the page to me. “Who says I don’t hate you?”

“I do,” I straddle him, snatch his book, and toss it behind me. His eyes flare in annoyance as I dip low and hover above him, putting my hands on his shoulders to pin him down. “And if this is the closest thing I’m going to get to a date, the least you could do is give me a little conversation.”

“A date,” he chuckles dryly, and it stings. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“I know, I know, you’re not Sean.”

His eyes snap up to mine. “I’m not.”

“So, tell me who you are.”

“You know who I am.”

“A closet geek and introvert with horrible manners and excellent taste in music. It was you who played DJ at the party you kicked me out of, wasn’t it?”

He nods. “I was working.”

“Until you saw me?”

Another dip of his chin.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“When I was younger and thought getting my dick wet was the second coming of Christ.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Silence.

“That’s not a stupid question.”

“It is if you find love irrelevant.”

“Why is love irrelevant?”

“Because it doesn’t interest me.”

“What interests you?”

“The book I was reading.” I huff and move off his lap to pick the book up before I hand it to him. He resumes his reading as I move for his door.

“Pick one,” he says just as I reach the handle.

“One what?”

He nods toward the shelves.

I run my hands over my face in frustration. “You drive me insane.”

I move toward the shelf and look over his collection. I pause when I see a few familiar titles. “You have a whole romance section.” I giggle and pull a book from the shelf. When I open it, a receipt falls to the floor. Inspecting it, I see he’s just bought ten books and spent a few hundred dollars opting for some pricy hardcovers over paperbacks. “You just bought these?”

Upon closer inspection, I see most of them are romance titles by my favorite indies. There’s also a few suspense and an older historical, all of them titles from a familiar list that I wrote on a bookmark in my bedroom. When he was in my house, he had to have snooped in my room while Sean was distracting me. “You looked through my stuff?”

He keeps his eyes on his book.

It’s a stupid question. And the answer is so obvious, but I can’t help myself.

“You bought these for me?”

Silence.

And again, I’m floating off the ground as he continues to read, feigning indifference. But I know differently now, and it changes everything. Beneath that mask is a man who’s been paying attention, very close attention to me.

He turns another page and pulls an empty pillow closer to his shoulder. He wants me to read, with him, in his bed. And what better way to pass a day in stormy weather than curling up with a gorgeous man and getting lost in the words.

Hours later, he’s on his second book, and I’m deep into an erotic suspense, my breath growing shallow as I flip the page and begin to ache. Dominic’s scent envelops me as I reach out and tentatively run a hand down his chest. We’ve been like this, stroking each other’s skin on occasion since I sidled up next to him. Desire runs through me as I get to the part where all of the delicious tension explodes and that’s when I feel his kiss on my stomach, my eyes drift from the page when he jerks me to the edge of the bed, spreading my legs.

I move to set down my book and he jerks his chin.

“Keep reading.” He lowers his head as I attempt to resume my reading as he spreads me, thrusting his tongue into my center. I’m already close when he begins to lap at my clit. Dropping the paperback on my chest, I thrust my hands in his hair and he stops, the command in his eyes clear as I pick up my book, my thighs shaking as I try to read the paragraph for the third time. His thick fingers plunge into me just as the hero starts to pound into her, ripping at her hair, taunting her with filthy words. The words start to blur again as I get lost in Dominic’s torture, my mind far more interested in my own story.

He wraps his lips around my clit, sucking hard as I lose the grip on my book. The sight of him alone makes it impossible to follow his order.

“Dom,” I beg when he halts all movement, but he doesn’t budge. It’s only when I grapple for the book that he resumes, running his fingers along my lips to spread me before dipping his head and jackhammering his tongue along my clit.

Hyperaware of his every touch, I come undone on his tongue and lose it altogether when I hear the sound of a condom wrapper before he slowly pushes into me. In seconds, he puts the book hero to shame as he fucks me with ruthless abandon.

He’s only a few thrusts in when I throw the book across the room, not giving a damn about the ending.