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Stupidly, I wanted anything Dawson was willing to give me.
I sucked down the remainder of my third fizzy drink, feeling much more relaxed than I usually did. I wasn’t sure what all the bartender put in that thing, but whatever it was, it was making me feel on cloud nine, invincible almost.
Which probably accounted for my sudden influx of confidence at the moment.
Because as I watched Dawson sign his receipt and slide his credit card back into his wallet, then slide said wallet into his slacks as we rose from the table, I’d made an impulsive, split decision, and I wasn’t going back.
So, I let Dawson show me out, let him walk me to his truck, stilling my breath as best I could.
When we got to the truck, he moved to open my door but I stopped him.
Realistically, he’d drive me home, forget about this date-not-date like he forgot about me that first time we met, after we’d flirted.
We’d go back to life as normal—working together, aggravating one another, hiding our true feelings. And I just... didn’t want to go back to that.
It’s now or never, Nolan.
If you want things to change, change them.
I’d never been more sure of anything in my life.
“Nolan, what—”
I didn’t think twice about doing what I’d wanted to do for two years, what I’d wanted to do since that night in M’s Place, under his spell, what I wished I had done when we were standing in his brother’s front yard.
I pulled Dawson Richards into me and I pressed my lips to his. He startled for a moment, clearly surprised by my sudden boldness, but only for a split second. Then he relaxed in my hold, setting his warm palm on my hip, tugging me closer, his lips moving hurriedly against mine.
A deep, satisfied groan escaped my throat as his tongue breached my lips. With both hands on my hips, he pulled me tight against him; so tight I could feel his hardness against my own.
I ran my hands up his neck, letting my fingertips play with the edges of his soft hair, and I lived in that kiss for a hundred years.
Because no one had ever kissed me the way Dawson kissed me.
He broke away, and my lips felt swollen and warm from his fiery kiss, longing to be caressed once more.
I think that was when I knew nothing would ever be the same again, and on some deeper level, I knew it was the beginning of something so much greater than I’d ever expected.
But I couldn’t process all of that amidst the alcohol infusing my brain.
“Fucking brat,” he said with a laugh. “I said, wait till we get home. I told you, good boys get—”
I couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Maybe I don’t want to be rewarded, Dawson,” I said with a giggle of my own as I boldly went where I’d never gone before. “Maybe I want to be punished instead.”
It was Dawson’s turn to blush, and I took much pride in that.
He slid his hands down my side, licking his lips as he implored me with his gaze.
“Get. In. The. Car,” he said sternly, and I wanted to argue.
To fight him, to instigate him.
It was second nature to me, but I also didn’t want to piss him off and make him regret this entire night, so for once, I did as I was told. I climbed into the car, but I didn’t miss as Dawson tugged at the tent he’d pitched in his pants before he scrambled into the driver’s seat.
I watched as he took a deep breath, his hands tight on the steering wheel as if he was trying to find his own confidence, or his own way out of a deep, dark place.
Back to reality.
He turned the car on, flashing me a look when Metallica came on over the radio.
