Dallas notices my tears. “Hey.” He tilts my chin up with his fingers. “What’s wrong with my dream girl?”
My dream girl.I look into his eyes, which are blue with their green rims up here against the hazy sky. He really does have themost amazing eyes. And hair. And face. “Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you for showing me this.”
“Thank you for saying yes.”
The wetness on my cheeks and my parted lips seem to trigger some kind of tipping point in Dallas Wilder.
“I can’t handle this, Amelie Thibodeaux. How can anyone be so fucking gorgeous? You’re seriously blowing my mind over here.”
I’m not sure how to answer that. “At some point we should probably stop calling each other by our full names,” I laugh, because I honestly don’t think I’ve ever felt so free and so happy. “What do your friends call you?”
“Dallas Wilder.” He grins and I laugh again. “My brothers call me Dally. It’s an old nickname from a long time ago.”
“I love that.”
“What do your friends call you?”
“My dad and my grandpa used to call me Boo. Sadie calls me Ami. It means friend in French.”
“Okay, Ami.” Watching my eyes, he slides his warm palm around the nape of my neck. “I’m going to kiss you now, Boo. If you’ll let me.”
Oh my god. This is it.
His hand squeezes gently around my neck, lightly dominating. I’ve never thought about dominance and submission before, but my bodyloveshis power and reacts to it. I feel warm and … ready. “But first I need to warn you,” he says, his voice low.
“About what?”
“I’m already addicted to the scent of you and your insanebeauty. I’ve never seen anything like it. Once I get my first taste, there’s no telling what I might do.”
This is new territory for me, but the thing is … Iwantto tease him. And tempt him. I feel feminine. And Idofeel beautiful. Because of him. I can’t ever remember feeling either especially feminineorparticularly beautiful and right now the sensations of both are converging into a hot, coy playfulness. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to find out.”
“I guess we will.” The insatiable look in his eyes makes my stomach do one of those pleasure-heavy little flips.
That’s when it finally happens.
Dallas Wilder kisses me.
17
I’m taken off guard.Not by the kiss itself but by the ravenous, barely-controlled need behind it. It drives me a little crazy, if you really want to know. I’m not expecting my own reaction. A reckless longing rampages through my entire body.
My first kiss. Ever. My dad might have kissed my cheek once or twice but he wasn’t much for showing his affection physically. And I wasn’t interested in boys throughout high school because I spent all my time at home/work fighting off the unwanted advances of barflies and drunken tourists, ninety-nine percent of whom were borderline disgusting, rude or downright creepy. I was also trying desperately to keep our business afloat—very unsuccessfully, as it turned out. I was too distracted for boyfriends.
I remember the first time Sadie hugged me, soon after we became friends, and it was the first time I’d ever touchedanother human being that closely. It felt strange at first. Now I hug her all the time.
Hugging Sadie feels nothing like this.
Dallas’s lips settle over mine softly at first, but then the kiss turns greedier. He opens my mouth with his, dipping his tongue. Tasting. Gently feasting.
It’s the most intimate thing in the world and I’m not quite prepared for it. I’m not expecting the touch of his tongue against mine to send a channel of deep, white-hot heat directly to my clit, like an electric current of hundred-proof lust.
God, he’s good at this.
I want more. I need it.
The kiss turns slippery and feverish. I can feel that my panties are shamelessly wet. There’s a power to this I wasn’t expecting. I love how submissive I feel yet so on fire with my own femininity. I weave my fingers through his thick-silk hair and suck on his tongue because he tastes so freaking good.
Dallas groans in what sounds like quiet agony and I pull away, breathless. I can guess what his groan means but I’m not entirely sure either way.He likes it?
