Before I know what's going on, a door is being kicked shut, I'm on a bed, and Dane's body is pressed against me, pinning me to the mattress. Torrid breaths, garbled moans, and whispered words neither of us understands are the only sounds we hear for several, long, incredible minutes.
"Rain, you'd better be sure about this, because it won't be just one night this time," he says against my lips, and my heart contracts to the point of pain.
I break the kiss to look up into his piercing greens. I'm almost positive that's my heart beating and not some set of Jumanji drums, but I can't be certain.
"What?" I ask in a rasp whisper.
His half-cocked smile makes my already frantic heartbeat become all the more erratic as he brushes some of my hair away from my face. His dark hair is a little messier now that my hands have been tangled in the silky strands, but he looks just as sexy even with it all disheveled.
"I said this will be more than just one night. It won't be like last time. If you want this, you get me. All of me. And tomorrow we won't be friends. We'll be more. If you're sober enough to do this, then you're sober enough to make this decision right now."
Decision? What decision? If I want this? He knows better. I've wanted this since we were kids, and... I wrote a letter... and... there were so many... I'm so frigging confused.
"I get you—all of you? What does that mean? And why can't we be friends?"
He studies me for a moment, measuring me possibly, and then he looks anywhere but in my eyes.
"We'll be friends, but not just friends. And none of that friends with benefits bullshit either. If we do this, then it's for real. Right now is that crossroads you hear so much about. If we walk out of this room before anything happens, we can go back to how we were. If we take this further, then... you're mine. It's pretty simple."
Simple? Where Dane and I are concerned, nothing has ever been simple. The Da Vinci Code is simpler than us.
"I'm yours?" I ask slowly, still trying to wrap my mind around this, because I think dreams only come true in Disney movies. Pinocchio becomes a real boy. Cinderella gets to stop scrubbing the floors and rides shotgun in a pumpkin. Sleeping Beauty gets to wake up. Snow White gets to wake up, too. Shrek and Fiona... no, wait; that's not Disney.
His grin essentially makes it impossible to breathe, much less recite useless information, as he leans in and kisses me, stealing what's left of my cognitive functions.
"Yes," he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. "And I'm yours. If you want this."
Yep. Fairly sure I've gotten too drunk, passed out, and now I'm having the best dream ever. Either that or I'm dead and I was allowed into heaven—or hell, depending on how the rest of this plays out. I hope I'm in heaven. I'll kick the devil in the balls if this is his form of torture.
"Rain?" Dane prompts, laughing nervously as he runs his finger down the curve of my jaw. "The suspense is killing me, baby. Is it really that big of a decision? I thought these past few weeks have been leading up to this. Mixed signals have always been an issue for us. For tonight, say exactly what you mean and tell me what you want."
He aims for joking, but it sounds as though he's unsure and possibly a little... insecure? Dane Sterling insecure? That's ridiculous.
But mixed signals? I've never given him mixed signals. That was always him.
"So we'll... be together?" I ask, my voice cracking pathetically with too much hopefulness.
"Yes," he says too slowly, mocking me a little.
I look like Wonder Woman in the next two seconds when I launch myself up, tackle him to the bed, and almost suffocate him with my ravenous kiss. He starts to laugh, but it turns into a toe-curling moan as his grip tightens on me.
Being on top has its advantages, considering I can press all my weight on him and feel every inch of his body against me. And his body is definitely something I want to feel more of.
He's mine. I can't believe that he said he's mine.
"Dane!" Corbin yells, prompting both of us to groan in unison.
"Go. The fuck. Away," Dane yells back, his hold on me never loosening.
"Rain, you're both drunk. Don't do this right—Ow! Fucking son of a bitch glass," Corbin rants, earning a chuckle from both of us as glass clanks around on the floor. "Did you two destroy the house on fucking purpose?"
Dane's laughter roars free, and I lean up, ready to strangle that best friend of ours. Corbin is still muttering curses, probably regretting being barefoot as he braves the path of collateral damage we left in our wake, and I glare at the unlocked door. His balls are going in a souvenir jar as a warning to the world if he opens that door.
"Corbin," Dane says through a small snicker, "I'd walk away if I were you. I'm pretty sure your balls depend on it right now."
He knows me well.
"Tell Rain to put her death glare away. You two can't fuck while you're drunk. And I'd be a shitty friend if I let you."