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I swallow. The ball is firmly in my court. The choice, mine. Except, who am I trying to fool here? On this day, in this moment, on this planet we call Earth while basking in the warm invitation simmering in Dash’s eyes, there is only ever going to be one answer.
“One room,” I say, and just uttering those two words out loud makes my pulse shoot up like a rocket.
Dash’s smile spreads. Wicked.
“You heard the lady.”
My pulse kicks, and I wait impatiently until he’s done registering, and we can speed-walk to the elevator. The second the door closes, we reach for each other, kissing wildly until someone loudly clears their throat, and we realize the elevator doors have opened and we’re on our floor.
With a row of people looking at us.
“Whoops!” I blurt, as Dash grabs my hand and yanks me down the hallways to our room.
Dash’s first two tries with the key card end with a blinking red light. He curses under his breath. “Let me try,” I say, snatching it from him. I swipe, and—thank God—it opens.
Inside, the room has a minibar, a view, and a full TV set-up. But there’s only one thing I’m looking at. The massive bed.
And when I turn to Dash, there’s only one thing he’s looking at:
Me.
There’s a beat, then we reach for each other again, and fuck, all the pent-up chemistry from the past hours on the road comes surging to the surface. He kisses me hard, tongue sliding deep in my mouth as his body pressed against me.
Equally hard.
I shiver with lust, reveling in his touch. My hands are everywhere too: in his hair, roving over his back, grabbing at his collar to pull him closer, more.
Now.
Dash walks me back to the bed, tipping me back on the soft linens. I pull him with me, and God, I love the weight of him, pressing me into the mattress as he drives me crazy, dropping a trail of blazing kisses down my neck.
He pulls back. “Off,” he orders, tugging at my T-shirt, and I’m only too eager to oblige, stripping down to my bra.
“Now you,” I grin, already lifting his shirt.
He strips it over his head, and damn, he’s a sight to behind, straddling me on his knees, all tanned skin and lean muscle. I drink in the sight of him, but not for long, because he’s already covering me again, scooping me up and rolling us so I’m the one on top.
“Fuck, Callie…” Dash groans, his mouth finding my breasts through the sheer lace of my bra. “Do you have any idea how hard I was, trying to keep my mind on the damn road and not on all the ways I’m going to make you scream?”
I gasp, his teeth nipping lightly at my nipples, already stiff and aching.
“Well, it’s only fair,” I reply, breathless. “I’ve been wet for you since Jacksonville.”
Dash groans. “Baby… You can’t say things like that to me.”
“Why not?” I ask, teasing. Loving the adrenaline surging through my body, making me feel reckless and bold. I rock against him, deliberate.
Dash’s gaze darkens. “Because now I have to see if you’re telling the truth.”
He undoes my shorts, and yanks them over my hips with my underwear, reaching to cup me possessively between my thighs. I gasp as he curls a finger up inside me, and then another.
“See,” I moan, thrusting against his hand. “Not lying.”
“Fuck.”
Dash discards my bra and bends his head to my breasts again, devouring them as his fingers flex inside me, rhythmic and maddening.
Oh God. It’s incredible, the pleasure surging through me, but something makes me pull back and move his hand away. “What was I telling you about patience?” I smirk, scooting back down the bed.
