Chapter Twenty-Five #2
I instantly crave more.
“You really like it?” His delighted expression sends anticipation zipping through me.
“Maybe,” I say, a touch teasing. “Or maybe I just really like you feeding me.”
His expression darkens in the best way possible. “What did I tell you about tempting me, Tinsel?”
Before I can utter a response, Dash has a second serving of cannoli on his fork, ready to pop into my mouth. “Round two?”
I open again, allowing him to slip the dessert into my mouth. This time, he watches me, openly tracking the way my lips move, the second my throat bobs on a swallow. Then he’s leaning in, stopping just before his mouth grazes mine.
“You’re killing me, Ruby.”
I swallow again, this time from nerves. “I am?”
“Mm.” His nose brushes mine, lips hovering just long enough for me to die from anticipation. I press forward, needing the contact. He responds, parting his lips enough that our heated breaths and the sweetness of the cannoli mingle in the already sultry evening.
I pull back first, embarrassed that I let the urge to kiss him override my senses.
Dash chuckles. “Don’t shy away from me now.” He twines a piece of my hair around his forefinger before tucking it behind my ear. “Things were just getting good.”
I smile and reach for the rest of the dessert. If I don’t resume some semblance of control now, I may just make out with him all night and miss the fireworks.
When we’re finished and Dash bags up the trash, I notice him wince as he twists to put the bag behind us. “Are you hurt?”
“Hm?”
“Your shoulder. You roll it often and seem to baby it.”
His lips form a thin line. “I, uh, injured it last season. It’s been giving me some trouble.”
“Aw, really? I’m sorry, that doesn’t sound fun.”
“No, it’s not. I have to see a physical therapist after each game and have it massaged regularly.”
“Oh, wow.” I had no idea Dash was dealing with this kind of thing. Beck’s earlier comment about his shoulder during the game comes to mind. “Does it affect how you play?”
He shrugs the shoulder I assume is his good one. “Sometimes.”
All night, I’ve gotten chatty Dash. The guy who can’t shut up about hockey, his life back home, his fluffy tabby cat. Yet right now, he seems to clam up.
“Have I hit a sore subject?” I try to infuse my voice with levity, but it doesn’t seem to work.
Dash lets out a heavy sigh. “It is the current thorn in my side.”
My mind reels with questions. The normal version of me would bite them back and refuse to ask. But the version Dash has brought back to life prods me to give them a voice. I worry that if he’s playing injured, he could be at risk for hurting himself further.
“Has it been bad since you’ve been in DC?”
He gives me a slow nod. “Unfortunately, yeah. So much so that—”
The first firework lights up the night sky, cutting off the rest of Dash’s explanation. One after the other, the pyrotechnic crew begins to fire them off, starting the show.
“I’ll explain more later,” Dash says, inching closer to me. “But I don’t want to focus on my injury right now. All I want to focus on is you.”
A swooping sensation fills my belly when Dash takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I want to remember the way the fireworks light up your features in the dark,” he croons, nice and low. “I want to remember the look on your face when you took that first bite of cannoli.”
My smile from earlier returns.
“And I want to remember what it feels like to kiss you when no one else is watching.”
I swallow my reservations when Dash slowly, meticulously, captures my mouth with his. Fireworks burst in the sky above us, bright and beautiful, but they don’t hold a candle to the flurry of light erupting in my chest.
A bold kaleidoscope of colors pinwheels behind my eyelids.
The heat of Dash’s mouth sparking the flame that he ignited the second he touched me for the first time.
Dash slides his hand into my hair, his fingers curling around the nape of my neck.
He deepens the kiss, teasing my mouth with his, over and over until breathing becomes an afterthought.
My hands splay across his chest, exploring each hard ridge and soft dip. I want to both devour this man and savor every moment we have together. It’s a feeling I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing before and doubt I ever will again.
I’m not sure how long we kiss, but when we break apart, my chest rises and falls with heavy, labored breaths.
“Ruby,” he murmurs. “We have to stop.”
“Hm?” Our foreheads rest together, his hand still wrapped around the back of my neck.
“We have to stop or we’ll miss all the fireworks.”
I smile, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I think we’re doing a good job of creating our own, don’t you?”
He smiles against my mouth before kissing me one final time, stealing the last of my breath. “You’re killing me, woman.”
A laugh bubbles up from my throat. “I could say the same about you.”
Dash lays back on the blanket, opening up his arms for me. “Come here.”
I nestle into his side and rest my palm against his chest. A burst of colorful lights illuminates the sky above us, adding a nostalgic feel to this unforgettable date.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” I whisper.
Dash shifts slightly, running a hand down my side. “Me too.”
If only the ticking clock didn’t sound in the back of my mind like a warning.