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He coughs a couple of times before answering me. “I think you’ll be plenty busy with men approachingyou.”
This has me snorting. It’s not that I think I’m unattractive, but I can’t imagine a scenario where some guy approaches me to ask me out. Where would that even happen? Am I supposed to just go sit at bars every night until I luck out?
No, better to figure out a way to be proactive.
“That’s sweet. But really, what should I say to a guy I think is hot? Do people still get coffee together? Or do I suggest something sexier, like alcohol? But do I have to specify the type of alcohol I’m asking him to drink with me? Because I like beer best. But wouldn’t wine or cocktails be sexier?” Oh no, my brain is on a runaway train and my mouth is along for the ride. “And what if he doesn’t drink, like you? Would I blow my shot by suggesting it? Like, for example, if I asked Cole to get a beer—”
“You arenotasking Cole out.” Dash pulls me down a side street with fewer pedestrians to dodge.
“But you said he’s on parole, too.” One of the few scant details I’ve been able to learn about Dash during our training sessions was that he met his roommate in prison. “So, he’s sober. Would I be better just walking up to him and saying ‘Hey, I think we’d be really good together. In bed?”
Hot palms cup my face and stop the babbling storm I’ve swept myself up in. Dash tilts my head up until I’m staring straight into his angry eyes. He holds me still, and when he speaks, I can’t help but notice how deep and growly his voice has gone.
“You are not doing anything in a bed with him, or anyone else.”
“Why not?” I whisper, just like I did earlier when he had his hand on my thigh, hoping if I keep my voice soft enough, I won’t scare away the hunger in his gaze.
His dark eyes flash as his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t back away. Instead, he leans in closer, until his words brush over my lips. “Because you belong in mine.”
Before I can respond, he crashes down on me, fusing our mouths together.
DASH
Sweet and earthy, the taste of Paige on my tongue is enough to solidify my addiction. I’m going to need this every day, multiple times, just so I don’t go insane.
And that little gasp she gave me when I finally took her mouth? Priceless. I need more of her. I want to hear every sound she makes. But, not right now, because her mouth is busy.
One of my hands tangles in her silky hair, while the other moves around to her back, so I can press her soft body into mine. She’s all curves against my hard angles. The heat of her skin burns under my palm, almost her entire back exposed because of this fucking perfect dress. To tease her, or myself, I slide a finger under one of the slim silk straps, and simply sweep back and forth, enjoying the shivers that shake through her in time with my movement.
But it’s hard to focus on my hands when the tip of her tongue peeks out to trace over the seam of my lips.
She wants more? Who am I to deny her?
I open, letting in her hesitant caress. As her tongue delves past my lips, so do the pads of her fingers push under the edge of my shirt.
Fuck yes, I want to moan.Take what you want from me.
Our tongues dance together before it’s my turn to push into the wet heat of her mouth, plundering, demanding. She needs to know what I can do. How well I’ll take care of that little spot of pleasure between her legs when I finally push up her skirt.
A hoot and a whistle send a stiffening shock down my spine.
“Yeah! Give it to her!”
We break apart, and I search for the catcallers. Seems a group of frat guys decided to go day drinking. They loiter across the street from us, laughing and calling out like they’re some kind of comedic geniuses.
I’m ready for Paige to pull away, expecting that when she does, I won’t be able to stop myself from stalking over to their group and teaching them some manners.
But she doesn’t step back from me. Instead, Paige buries her face in my neck, her shoulders shaking.
For a second my rage spikes higher. Those fuckers made her cry.
They’re going to die.
Then Paige snorts, and I realize giggles spill out of her, rather than tears.
“Hey.” I pull my hand out of the tangle of her hair and smooth it over the buttery strands, enjoying the soft texture as I stroke her. “They’re assholes.”
She nods against my neck, before lifting her head to gaze up at me with her hazel eyes wide, full of a mixture of humor and wonder. “You kissed me, Dash. That was definitely you this time.”
