32. Natalie #3

“Can I make a small confession? I had this idea that you had a closet full of robes. Like, maybe you were this big playboy type who always had a fresh robe for a different woman every night of the week.”

“Not even close. You wore my robe that night and I wore Colt’s.

Miranda gave us those for Christmas one year.

And here’s something you don’t know. I didn’t wash my robe for weeks.

Your scent was all over it. One day, our cleaning lady threw it in with a load of towels and washed the last of you out of my life.

I was pretty hot, but of course she had no idea what she’d done.

I got rid of it after that—the robe, not the cleaning lady. ”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m dead serious. I lived in that robe for weeks. Ask Colt. He’ll tell you.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up. “So, you pined for me?”

“As hard as the Ponderosa Forest.”

Natalie laughed, but Dash squeezed her hand, a serious look on his face.

“That night in your bedroom? I meant what I said. You changed me, Natalie. My ex burned me to the point that I swore off relationships. Keeping things brief and fun was a way to control potential damage.”

“I’ve been protecting myself too, thinking I had to choose between a relationship and a career, all because my ex crushed my soul when he wrote my career off as a hobby.”

Dash fell silent for a minute, then said, “God, why were we dating such assholes?”

This made Natalie howl. Even the driver laughed, then apologized for eavesdropping.

“I gave my stopwatch a new purpose too: to remind myself to stop wasting time and focus on finding something real,” he admitted. “But now I know. Everything unfolds exactly as it’s meant to.”

The cab stopped in front of her building and Dash quickly paid the fare.

They practically jogged to the elevator, the tension growing more with each second.

Natalie had barely closed the door to her apartment when Dash pressed her body against it.

His mouth explored her neck while his hand moved up her thigh.

“Ms. Earhart, this body of yours is making certain parts of my body take flight,” he said, grinding against her.

“I know the exact place we can land,” she said, reaching for his tie.

"Allow me," he said.

From the pocket of his jacket, he produced the gold scissors. He hacked away for a minute, but still his tie hung on. He dropped his head in mock shame. “That was supposed to be smooth.”

With a finger, she nudged his chin up. “It needs a woman’s touch.”

Natalie took the scissors from him and clipped the final threads. She tossed the remnant over her shoulder in dramatic fashion.

“A woman’s touch indeed,” he said.

She ran her hand across the frayed remains. "Well, look at that. Now it reads DOME."

“Un-uh, it’s two words: Do me. You know what they say about the power of suggestion."

“And just when I think I can’t fall harder for you …”

She kissed him, ignoring his five o'clock shadow and the sting of his stubble against her chin. Those London kisses had made her weak, but this one felt differen—more intense and delicious than she remembered. A good three minutes passed before they came up for air.

"It's not a race, Mr. Crown," she cautioned.

"Please, call me Thom. And I assure you we've moved way past race. This is a full-on rally."

Natalie gave what was left of the tie a seductive tug.

She held it up for a moment, then let it drop to the floor.

She took a deep breath, determined to take her time and give each button on his shirt the attention it deserved.

Alone with him, she became her truest self, assertive and unafraid.

Never had she wanted a man the way she wanted him.

With each button, she could feel herself growing more and more impatient.

Again, she took another deep breath, forcing herself to slow down and enjoy the moment—a bittersweet moment that dangled somewhere between indulgence and restraint.

He hiked her dress up near her waist, and his fingers gently massaged her bare skin.

Her insides caught fire. Only two buttons to go.

His hand caressed her outer thigh tenderly before finding its way between her legs.

One more button. She slipped her hands inside his shirt and slid it off his shoulders.

Looking up at him, she knew. No more waiting.

He looked down and kissed her, exploring every part of her mouth with his.

She could feel his breath filling up her lungs, and she wanted to drink in every part of him.

She pulled the shirttail from the waist of his suit pants.

Her hands traveled down his bare chest, resting a moment on his hips before settling on his belt.

Carefully, she unbuckled the clasp and pulled it from the waistband in the same manner she'd handled his tie.

Holding it up for a moment, she smiled at him before letting it fall to the floor.

They stood holding each other with only the sounds of breathing passing between them.

She closed her eyes and lightly ran her fingers across his back.

The cliff crumbled beneath her, and she didn't know how much longer she could hold on.

His kisses made a path across her cheek to her neck before finding the lacy edge of her bra.

His mouth teased her in such a way that she couldn't hold on any longer.

He dropped to his knees, pressing his lips above her belly button.

She moaned as he covered her stomach with soft kisses.

Something in the moment made her smile and think of Christmas, and the anticipation of the gifts that awaited her in the form of his body.

She kneeled down, needing to look into his eyes.

"Dash," she said, now completely under his spell. "You know we have all night, right?"

"I can't help it." His fingers found her zipper. "Even my name says haste."

Her heart filled, knowing that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

The chase is over, Mr. Crown.

And you're really mine.

Score one for all the rabbits.

"Then let's make haste," she said with a seductive wink.

Natalie woke with a start, afraid the entire night hadn't really happened. She spied Dash’s jacket and tie remnants lying in a wrinkled heap on the chair across her bedroom, confirming it hadn't been a dream.

Her eyes moved to the bedside table and locked on a wilted gardenia, like the one pressed into the frame beside it.

Next to it, a fresh cup of coffee, steam rising.

She also found something that hadn't been there the night before.

A note. Their note. He still had it, after all this time.

Smiling, she reached for the scrap of paper, her heart brimming with happiness as she re-read his words.

My dearest Ms. Earhart,

You’ve seen your share of Ubers over the last twenty-four hours. I thought you might enjoy something a little more plush to take you to the airport. A woman like you deserves plush.

I hope you’ll change your mind about leaving today. Use this code to access the main entry of my building, as well as the private elevator to my apartment: 041770

Let a gentleman steal you away for one more night.

Always,

Thomas Crown

Ambassador Tower, London

At the bottom, he'd made two small additions.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one that brought me back to you. And that has made all the difference.

Two lovers converged in a bed. ‘Nuff said.

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