Rebel Roused (Untamed #5) (10 page)

Which was so fucking sexy.

“Feeling better?” My eyes followed Ree as she crossed the room, naked, her long wet hair sending little droplets of water racing down her skin. My hands ached to feel her, my tongue longed to catch those drips and erase their paths, but from where I sat on the bed I couldn’t deny I had the best vantage point to appreciate her in all her natural glory.

Damn. She was the sexiest woman I’d ever known, and she was all mine. Yeah, I was the luckiest fucking guy in the world.

She gave a little shrug and shot me a smile as she pulled one of my old t-shirts over her head.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” I said as she crawled into bed and curled against me. “We can handle them. Just focus on the good stuff—like the art show.”

My hands slid under her shirt, exploring her bare skin, feeling her respond to my touch. She moaned as I cupped her breasts in both hands, gently rolling her nipples in between my fingers until they peaked. She arched her back and opened her legs for me.

And I was gone.

I slid my hand down her warm, soft stomach and paused there, imagining the future.

“I can’t wait until you’re doing art with our kids,” I whispered into her ear. “You’re going to be so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I’m going to paint the shit out of you the whole nine months.”

“Really?” She leaned up on her side, her face filled with wonder. “Even with a huge belly?”

“Especially then.” I cupped her stomach, slid down and kissed it all around. “Because inside will be our own little work of art.”

She pulled me up to kiss her and the feel of her tongue tangling with mine made my heart race.

“Let’s do it now,” she said. “Get married. Start our life together.”

There was nothing I wanted more, but I also knew my family would kill me if they didn’t get to be a part of it. And, truth be told, I wanted them there.

“How about over Dax’s winter break? The first week of January. I’ll fly him, Dalia, and my mom to New York. Dash’ll be off, too. We’ll go to City Hall. For New Year's. Maybe some of your family—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Your family is my family. They’ve welcomed me into their hearts since day one. I only want them.” She got an adorable evil grin on her face as she said, “My parents can just read about it in the paper.”

fourteen

“S
o,” Dare said as he focused on the canvas, his brush making little flicking strokes, “we’re on.”

“We’re on?”

“For New Year’s Eve. Eleven a.m. Everyone will be here.”

I lifted my head off the futon mattress, pressed a hand to my bare chest to calm my skipping heart.

“Really? Just like that?”

“What,” he said, “like it’s hard to set up a wedding? I made a couple of calls, arranged a few flights, and we’re good to go.” He grinned at me, then turned back to his canvas. “Now lie back down. You’ve messed up the pose.”

“If I could marry you right now,” I said as I lay down and smiled up at the ceiling, “I totally would.”

“If you married me right now you’d be naked at our wedding.” He lifted a wicked eyebrow at me. “Which, come to think of it, could be a whole lotta fun. Instead of ‘you may kiss the bride,’ the officiant could say ‘you may fu—’”

“
Dare!
” Even though I tried to sound indignant, I couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of me.

This
was happiness. This right here with Dare. I wanted this to be our happily ever after right now.

The fact that we were doing this wedding on our own made me deliriously happy. That my meddling parents would be thwarted, even more so. I felt positively giddy about the whole thing.

“Do you mind much?” Dare said, breaking into my thoughts. A serious look had settled on his face, his eyebrows lifted and were almost touching in the middle of his forehead.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Doing it so small.” He dipped his brush in more paint and dabbed it on. “I’m sure it’s not how you imagined your wedding day.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t mind. Small is perfect.” It was exactly what I wanted, and exactly what my parents would hate the most. Which really didn’t figure into my decision. Much. “Though I…” My voice trailed off as a picture flashed through my mind, but I shook off the image because it truly didn’t matter.

“You what?” Dare had stopped painting and was looking intently at me. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing. It’s…nothing.
Really
.” I didn’t want to spoil any of his plans, didn’t want him to think that I wasn’t getting what I wanted, because the only thing I really wanted was Dare. And he was giving me exactly that.

“Ree,” he said, his voice low, “tell me.”

I sighed because there was no getting out of this. If I didn’t tell him now, he’d just keep pressing me until I did. “I once saw this painting of a bride and groom in an outdoor, countryside ceremony. It took place at night, under the moon and the stars, lit with thousands of candles, their happy faces glowing in the warm light. Ever since then, I’d always envisioned my wedding exactly like that. But it’s not important to me,” I assured him quickly. “Marrying you is what’s important. It’s the only thing that truly matters.”

“Aw, Ree. I’m sorry. I never even asked when I set it all up. I just—”

“No, it’s fine.” I sat up again. “It’s perfect, really. I just want to marry
you
. I really don’t care where or when, other than that it’s soon.”

He eyed me for a moment. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

He nodded and turned back to his painting again, touching the canvas lightly with his brush. He’d been working steadily over the past few weeks, and it filled me up to see him at his easel again. He was content, and it showed in everything he did. Happiness colored his world again. And by default, it colored mine, too.

Every day he was in his studio. Most of the time I was here with him, except for the afternoons when I went to meetings and the shelter. I’d spent more time naked these past days than I had since we’d found each other again in Paris.

And, as I eyed him sitting over on his stool fully clothed, something occurred to me.

“I don’t understand why I’m the only one who has to be naked here.”

He didn’t even look up from his work. “Because you’re the model. And I paint
nudes
.”

“Yes,” I said, “but I would enjoy the view so much better if you were also
painting
in the nude.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, but he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you need to wear clothes to work.” I bit my lip to stop myself from grinning as I said, “In fact, I dare you to take them off.”

He turned toward me, his eyes narrowing, and carefully lay down his brush and palette. Then slowly he reached for the hem of his long-sleeve dark green shirt, and lifted it over his head. Without taking his gaze from mine, he tossed it to the floor, pulled the buttons free at his fly, and slid his jeans off.

Dare au naturel. Be still my fucking heart.

“Better?” he said, still staring at me.

I nodded, a wide smile on my face. “Hell, yeah. MUCH better.”

“Can I get back to work now?”

“Absolutely.”

Wearing nothing but his heart-stopping grin, he picked up his brushes again.

And I let my eyes feast on him.

His smooth skin rippled over his muscles, looking like waves on a sand dune. My gaze trailed from his fingertips up his strong arms to his shoulders, where muscle met more muscle. It then traveled south, along his carved sides, to the swell of his butt, and down his lean and muscular legs.

He was perfection. I was being painted by a human work of art.

“We should do this more often,” I said, and his eyes flicked to my face as I licked my lips. A groan escaped his throat, and my gaze settled on the very obvious growing sign of his desire. “I have a whole new appreciation for art right now.” Watching his erection grow, I spread my legs, reached down and slid my fingers along my folds. I was so wet, so turned on.

Dare refused to look away from me, his dark eyes growing even darker when he saw my fingers working. This time, his groan morphed into a ravenous growl.

Spurred on, I dipped my fingers into my opening, then slid them up to circle my clit, spreading my excitement over myself.

“Ree…” My name was a plea on his lips, and I could see how painfully hard he was now, as his eyes stayed glued to my every movement.

I moaned his name, aching for his touch, wishing as I thrust my fingers inside myself that it was his long, hard length there instead. But he wasn’t moving. He just kept watching, entranced.

I needed him, and I needed him now.

So I rolled over onto my stomach, lifted up on all fours, spread my legs and arched my back, my throbbing core an offering.

“Take me,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him. “Just like this.”

“Fuck, Ree.” His stool crashed to the ground with a
bang
, sending my heart into overdrive as his quick, long strides brought him to me. “You’re the best kind of muse I could ever ask for.” The mattress dipped as he lowered himself behind me, his fingers slowly tracing my spine, savoring my skin as if it was a canvas. “My very own piece of artwork.” With those words, his hands gripped my hips and, without hesitation, he thrust inside of me.

I cried out in ecstasy as he filled me completely. His palms slid up my back, then around to cup my breasts as he started to move. Skilled fingers teased my nipples into tight, hard buds, shooting thrills through my body, building up pressure within my core as he pumped in and out, in and out, increasing his pace with each thrust of his hips.

He rocked me hard, over and over again, and I called out his name, love filling my voice each time he plunged inside me. We moved in sync, connecting as one, our souls interlaced, heartbeats perfectly matched, bodies wholly entwined in this joint moment of ecstasy.

“Come with me, baby.” His hands left my breasts and traveled down to my ache, where his fingers circled my swollen clit as he thrust into me faster and harder. I exploded into a thousand pieces just as he found his release.

As our spasms passed, we collapsed onto the mattress, and Dare pulled me against him, softly sucking on the tender skin at the back of my neck.

“This,” he said, trailing kisses over to my shoulder, “is why it’s a very, very bad idea for me to paint naked. I can’t resist you, Ree. I need clothes to work—or else I’ll never finish another piece. Though I guess that’s the price to pay for finishing
off
other masterpieces.”

“You won’t hear this masterpiece complaining about that.” I laughed, and he rolled me over then he kissed me breathless. “This is probably also why I shouldn’t be naked at our wedding,” I said as I ran my fingers through his dark waves. “We’d never make it to the vows.”

“Then New Year’s Eve it is,” Dare said. “I’ll be the one in clothes.”

“So will I.”

“And I will be the one to remove them afterwards,” he added with a naughty wink.

“And forever after that,” I said, and he nodded.

“Forever after, and then some.”

fifteen