Dare Me(52)

“Let’s see how shopping goes tomorrow,” she says, running her fingers through her long, damp hair, settling into her pillow. I try to hide my smile, because where I expected hesitation, there was none. Saige rests her hand on my chest and I finally relax and fall into an easy sleep as soon as I hear the sound of her breathing settle, knowing she’s fast asleep.



My eyes crack open, and even though it’s dark, I can still see her tall, statuesque silhouette in the window. Even sixty floors up, the Manhattan lights still cast a glow through the wall of windows. Her right hand and forehead are pressed against the glass, her eyes tilted down to the New York City streets below.

The clock reads three forty-two in the morning, and Saige being awake means only one thing—nightmares. I slide out of bed and pad across the soft carpet to where she stands. I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, pressing myself to her. The soft cotton robe is warm against my skin.

Saige tenses as my arms tighten around her, but she doesn’t move. Over her shoulder, I can see the small specks of light below as cars move slowly through the early morning Manhattan streets. After a few quiet minutes, I finally feel Saige relax and she leans back into me.

“You okay?” I press a kiss to her temple.

“Yeah,” she answers, her voice groggy and weighted with emotion.

“I was hoping with how tired you were that you’d be able to sleep through the night.”

“Me too,” she answers softly and wraps her hands around mine, which are resting on her stomach. “New York really is the city that never sleeps,” she says. “There has been non-stop traffic down there for the last hour.”

“Manhattan is always a zoo,” I tell her as I recollect the memories of my years spent here in college.

“I wonder what it would be like to be alone here,” she starts. “Not alone, as in by myself, because there are more than eight million people that live here, but what would it be like to live here and know no one. To just exist in a city where no one knows who you are. To just wander. To just be lost.”

“I think it would be very lonely,” I answer her honestly and wonder why she’s having these thoughts.

“I think it would be perfection,” she says softly and almost longingly. “To have no one know who you are. No one to see your scars or your flaws or your worries.”

“Is that what you want, Saige? Someone to hide all of who you really are from?”

“I don’t know,” she admits honestly.

I press my nose into her long hair, breathing her in. “Because I find your flaws and your scars beautiful, and whatever worries you have, I’d like to put them to rest.” If she’ll let me.

I can feel her heart thrumming in her chest as she turns slowly in my arms. Draping her arms over my shoulders, she stares at me. “Why me, Holt?” Her eyes beg me for answers, answers I’m not sure she can handle.

I shake my head, swallowing. “I don’t know.” Because I don’t. I hired her for a job. That was all this was supposed to be, a way to help her. This was never supposed to be more. But it became more, and now I can’t let her go. I reach out and run my thumb over her lips. “Because when I think about life without you, it’s boring—lonely. I don’t want to be lonely, Saige.”

“I don’t want to be lonely either,” she whispers, pressing her lips to mine.

I drink in the feel of her soft lips against mine. Deepening our kiss, I untie her robe and push it from her shoulders, letting it fall in a pool around our feet. I walk her backward, and then she gasps when the warm flesh of her back presses against the cool, glass window.

Her nipples harden as I brush each thumb pad over the tight little buds before leaning down and pulling one into my mouth. Her fingernails press into my shoulder as I suck harder and she moans in response. Reaching down, I slide my fingers between her soft folds, finding her slick. I rub gently, finally pressing a finger inside her. Her head falls backward against the glass, and she bites her bottom lip.

“Turn around,” I order her and she obeys. “Press your hands against the glass.”

She places both of her hands on the glass, on either side of her head. Grasping her hips, I pull them back toward me, tilting her ass in the air just slightly. I rub my hand over the soft skin of her behind, wanting so badly to take her in the ass . . . but I know she’s not ready for that, yet. Positioning myself at her entrance, I’m sure to wet myself before sliding into her with one deep thrust. She yelps but instantly begins to moan in pleasure as she adjusts to me.

I place my hands over hers on the glass window, lacing my fingers between hers. “I’m not going to be sweet, Saige,” I warn her, and she tenses.

She turns her head to the side, and I can see her lips twist into a smirk. “I never asked you to be sweet with me,” she says, pressing her ass back against me, causing me to slide even deeper into her. Jesus Christ. Hearing her say that turns me on and I can feel myself grow harder.

I raise my hand, slapping her ass, hard, and feel it instantly warm beneath my hand. She gasps, and I don’t give her time to collect herself before I begin f*cking her . . . hard and deep, aggressive and rough. I want to f*ck the feelings out of her. I want to f*ck away the memories of her father killing himself. I want to f*ck away all the f*cked up images she’ll never get out of her head, but mostly, I want to f*ck away all of her pain. I want her to need me as much as I need her. I need her to want me as much as I want her. I want her to love me as much as I love her.