Chapter 4 #2
Old rules didn’t apply when his mouth beckoned.
Each kiss held an invitation, a temptation, a chance to toss away the old and try the new.
New felt good.
New tasted even better.
“That was nice,” Dennis murmured as the music wound down and her ears cleared, hearing all the slices of conversations, the distant mutterings, laughter at the bar–and realizing how exposed they were.
So open.
So carefree.
So bold.
“Just nice?” she asked, the question less about qualitative value and more an entry point. Feeling him out seemed redundant, because it was clear he was interested.
But in what, exactly?
“A good start.”
“A beginning of sorts?”
“If I thought you’d say yes, Ana, I’d ask you to come back to my hotel room and finish what we’re starting here.”
“What makes you think I’d say no?”
The way he laughed, a gentle huff through his nose, made a piece of her heart melt a little more.
“Most women would say yes or no to that. Instead, you open the question wide and give it nuance.”
“What’s wrong with nuance?”
“Never said there was anything wrong with it.”
“From what I’ve seen, you are a crystal-clear man, Dennis. Why don’t you try the direct approach?”
Inching closer, his inhale like the rush of a conch against her ear, Dennis smiled, his grin broadening, genuine happiness filling his features in a way that made her feel pride.
Pride that she could elicit that from him.
“Come to bed with me, Ana. I love the feel of you in my arms on the dance floor. Your kiss tastes so good, I want to taste all of you. My room or yours?”
Pure energy shot through her, most of it between her legs, coalescing into a throb. Fire lit up her skin, his caress as he cupped her jaw and kissed her again so anchoring.
And so damn hot.
Few moments in life call for complete abandon, but for Ana DaSilva, this was one of them.
Without question.
Without hesitation.
And without regrets.
“Your room,” she whispered against his mouth, her hand moving to his rock-hard thigh. The sheer size of him made her marvel. Never in her life had she so much as kissed a man so big.
And now, she was about to do much, much more.
Dennis waved down the server, who brought the check, Dennis running the tab to his room before Ana could object.
“You can get breakfast,” he rasped against her ear before biting the lobe, and she nearly moaned.
“Deal,” she gasped as they slid out from their seats, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. Guiding them to the elevator bank, he reached for the buttons and pressed the number 19.
“Oof,” she said. “You got a better floor.”
“I did?”
“I’m on the twenty-third.”
“There are better and worse floors?”
“When you’re afraid of heights, yes.”
“Ah,” he said, giving her a protective squeeze. “Don’t worry.”
“If I could stop worrying, it wouldn’t be a fear.”
Six. Five. Four. The numbers ran down on the red-lighted panel until the elevator arrived, packed with people, a mix of frazzled parents with kids, nightclubbers, and older folks clearly headed for dinner.
Overstuffed with people in winter coats, wearing gloves, hats in hand, the elevator seemed bigger when she and Dennis, along with five or six other passengers, stepped aboard.
The ride up felt tense, fraught with lust and impatience. It seemed the elevator stopped at every floor. The doors slid open each time with an aching slowness to reveal a hotel guest who had pushed the button to go down, then frowned and stepped back when Dennis pointed up.
Anticipation was building in her blood, and she found herself helpless to fight her growing desire for him. Sweaty, naked, tangled in each other’s bodies–that’s what she wanted next.
Her two drinks, the second one half abandoned, couldn’t take the blame for her choice.
Awakenings came in many forms, and Ana was reveling in what she was about to do.
Her decision.
Her need.
Her leap.
Finally, the doors opened on the nineteenth floor and Dennis took her hand, cutting through the small crowd on the elevator like a warm knife through butter. He walked with a slow, deliberate pace that she admired.
The man knew what he wanted, and he was in no rush to get it.
Because he knew he was absolutely, positively getting it.
As he waved his smartphone over the metal plate on the door, the click-click of the lock opening from the app made her stomach flip, tingles shooting through her.
Brie was going to die when she found out.
And cheer her on, too.
Before the door had even closed, Dennis was kissing her, lifting her off the ground with two big hands that filled themselves with her ass.
When her feet left the floor, it was like he defied gravity itself.
Reflexively, she wrapped her legs around his hips, his erection pressing against her sensitive skin, the urge to move against him so great.
His mouth claimed hers and she was wordless, all tongues and pressure and groans, as he took her to the bed.
Cocooned between his arms, his mouth on her neck, kissing along her collarbone, she felt the broad expanse of his back under his knit shirt. His heat was impossible to ignore.
He was a sun, a furnace, a fireball.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin as his hand found her breast, thumb turning her into a gasp, her nipple hardening in a second.
“You’re so big,” she whispered, the words honest and true, and he chuckled a deep sound of appreciation.
“You’re supposed to wait until after we’re naked to say that,” he joked, the words catching her off guard, making her laugh as well. Then he resumed kissing her, fingers unbuttoning her shirt like a bomb specialist disarming a device.
He was smooth. Sharp. Skilled.
Watch out for Rebound Man, Brie’s voice intruded. Don’t confuse him with Mr. Right.
The thought made her hesitate. Dennis picked up on it instantly, pausing, his arms suddenly more cuddle than kink.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Ana.”
“I–a thought.”
“You’re still thinking? Then I’m failing you.” His hand went between her legs, but stopped at her upper thigh. “Unless the thought is no? Because I’ll absolutely stop.”
“No!”
He pulled away, holding his palms up to show her his respect.
“No, I meant no!”
“I hear you, sweetheart.” As he rolled away, she began panting with need, heart in freefall, straight down into a crater above the throbbing between her legs.
“No, the thought isn’t no! Yes! It’s an enthusiastic yes!” Reaching for him, she smiled. “Get back here and kiss me again.”
“Whew.” His hand went back to her thigh, mouth on hers, the kiss full of smiles on both their parts, her hands in his thick, sandy-blond hair, then tracing down his neck to his shoulders, where the hem of his green knit shirt made her wonder how he looked out of it.
She was about to find out.
“And you’re even hotter when you do that,” she said against his mouth.
“Do what?”
“Consent check. Making sure I’m still all in.”
“Isn’t that just called being a decent human being?”
Brie was never, ever going to believe this.
“You’re perfect,” she blurted out, hand sliding under the hem of his shirt and finding one, two, three, four ridges.
Eight-pack, as she suspected. Her fingers played it like piano keys, a sonata of skin.
“I’m absolutely not perfect. If you’re looking for perfect, you’ve hit anti-matter. Sorry.”
“Right. You’re Mr. Rebound.”
Dennis gave her a piercing look.
“Mr. What?”
“Rebound.”
“Ahh. Which means I’m the first since your sleazy ex?”
“Yes. You’re not supposed to be perfect.”
“According to whom?” The question came with a kiss between her breasts.
“According to… I don’t remember.” The way he touched her, hand moving slowly up her rib cage, cupping each breast, the kisses lush and full–it was perfect.
“There we go. Let go of the thoughts and expectations. Tonight we don’t have to live by any rules except the ones we make for ourselves.”
“Really?”
“Really. Go ahead. Give me a rule.”
“Keep doing that,” she gasped as his fingers found a spot between her legs.
“This?”
“Mm hmm.” Her assent was punctuated by a moan so raw, she was embarrassed.
“Make that sound again,” he whispered against her ear. “I love how you moan. Love to make you moan even more.”
And for the next few hours, Ana did indeed make that sound.
Again, and again, and again.
Until she fell asleep in his arms, sated beyond belief, wondering if it was possible for one man to be Mr. Right, Mr. Rebound, and Mr. Perfect.
Because if so, she may have found him.
In a dumpster.