Page 8 of In His Eyes

5

My entire body is burning up, overheated with this electrical charge of sexual energy bottled up inside me. It’s making me miserable. I’ve never been this horny in my entire life. This is all because of that fucking kiss. Dallas kissed me, reigniting a fire in me that’s been dormant for years. Then he walked away and let the flames consume me.

I check the time on my phone and roll out of bed. Another sleepless night for me, courtesy of Dallas. There’s been a lot of those lately, tossing and turning with my mind racing. Dreaming of him every time I manage to doze off, my mind taking me well beyond a simple kiss.

My skin is far too hot to bother with putting my robe on over my nightgown before heading to the kitchen for some water. It’s not likely I’ll be running into Dallas at two in the morning anyway. I barely see him in the light of day lately.

I think we’ve been avoiding each other since that night, only meeting briefly in passing. One of us always working late or running errands. He was obviously freaked out by the kiss. But he wasn’t the only one. Getting involved with Dallas would be messy and could potentially screw everything up. Not to mention that he’s Jackson’s brother.

I don’t turn on the light in the kitchen, letting the moonlight from the windows guide me as I tiptoe to the refrigerator.

“What are you doing up?”

His deep voice rips through the silence, and a yelp bubbles out of me as I twirl around. He’s only a few steps behind me, looking stupid hot with his thick hair messy and chest bare.

“I, uh…I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes trace over my body as I stumble over my words, my skin feeling the movement as if it were his hands. “What about you?”

My pulse races as he inches closer, but I stay planted.

“Same. I thought a snack might help.”

His tone is thick with innuendo, his stare full of intention once it locks on mine. But I’m not so sure I’d survive another one of his sexual awakening kisses. I might actually combust if he gets me worked up only to walk away again.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll get some water and get out of your way.” I turn on my heel and quickly make it over to the refrigerator.

He’s at my back by the time I pull a bottle of water out, his warm breath dancing across my shoulder as I close the door. “It feels like you’ve been dodging me all week.”

I reluctantly shift to face him, pressing my back into the cold steel to create as much space as possible between us. His lips twitch with amusement, as if he knows what his proximity is doing to me.

“No, I—” I let out a relenting sigh. “All right, yeah. Maybe a little.” My confession causes a grin to spread across his handsome face. “But you’ve been doing a pretty good job of evading me too.”

He takes the bottle from my hand and places it on the counter, closing the remaining gap between our bodies. “You’re right.”

My breath stills when his hand lands on my shoulder, his fingertips shooting an electric current through my body as he toys with the thin strap of my nightgown.

“It feels wrong to want you, and I’ve tried to stay away. But goddamn, you’re all I can think about.”

The strap of my gown falls down my arm as he leans in like he’s going to kiss me, and I let out a shaky breath. “Dallas…”

Words fail me as I plant my palm on his chest to keep him at bay. Big mistake. My hand seems to have a mind of its own, greedily exploring over the peaks and valleys of his torso.

His mouth is on mine before I have a chance to regain my senses, his tongue demanding as it tangles with mine. There’s nothing unsure or timid about his kiss this time; it’s filled with the same insatiable need that’s been consuming me.

I nearly cry out in protest when he breaks the kiss, but his lips work a path down my neck and chest. He pushes the top of my gown down to expose my bare breast and draws my hard nipple into his warm mouth. My teeth dig into my bottom lip, my head banging into the refrigerator door. He hasn’t even really touched me yet and I’m ready to come undone.

His hand works its way under my gown and up my thigh, his palm cupping my aching center. He releases my breast and lifts his head, those hungry eyes locking on mine. I whimper with need as he applies pressure, my body eager for more. He slips under the thin material of my panties, his finger gliding through my folds. My hips buck, my arms wrapping around his shoulders to steady myself.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” His finger teases my entrance, his thumb working my clit. “You want me to make you come, baby?”

“Please,” I pant.

He smirks. “Can you be quiet for me?”

I eagerly nod as his finger slips inside of me, my walls clenching around him. Our gazes stay linked while he moves in and out with a skilled rhythm. When he adds a second finger, it sends me over the edge. His mouth captures mine, swallowing my moan as my orgasm crashes through me.

My limbs go limp as the waves subside, my heavy body leaning on Dallas for support. His lips leave mine, and he locks that intense gaze on me again, making it even harder to calm my racing heart.

What the fuck did we do? Why did I let that happen?

Okay. I know why. It’s been years since someone touched me. And finding your own release is not nearly as satisfying.

But this is bad. Very bad.

I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships with men. They never end well. What is it they say? Never shit where you eat?

There’s no doubt in my mind that Dallas would be phenomenal in bed. Maybe even too good. The kind of dick you get fucking drunk on.

But what happens when things go south? Because they always do. He’ll lose interest in me eventually. And then what?

“Dallas, do you think…”

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