Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(40)

“You can’t what?”

He groaned and pushed again. “I can’t hold back. You feel too good—you’re too beautiful.”

I pushed my hips up to meet his, enjoying the sensation of him so very deep in me, of the physical connection matching the emotional one that had been created today. “Don’t, Dylan. Don’t hold back.”

He began his rhythm in earnest, his strain written across his face. “Like this?” he choked out. I opened my mouth but only sounds came out. It was as if he were chasing away the unpleasantness of what had passed between us, leaving only the moment.

Sweat formed across his brow and his breath shortened. His thrusts were tighter and deeper.

I threw my hands above me, making sure I didn’t hit the headboard, though I wasn’t sure I would notice, even if I did.

“This is how you want it? Hard and deep?”

I shuddered beneath him as the beginnings of a storm gathered deep inside me. He knew exactly what I needed and how to give it to me.

I lost myself in the drag, each thrust heightening the sensitivity in every part of my body. The storm grew louder. I wasn’t going to be able to stop my climax as it raced toward me.

I grasped at his shoulders and dug my fingernails into his skin.

“Oh God . . . so tight. Jesus.” I didn’t hear the rest of what he said as my climax crashed into me, leaving me breathless and desperate.

He buried his head in my neck, crying my name before collapsing on top of me.

I clutched him tight, wanting to freeze-frame this perfect moment.

We lay in silence as I trailed my fingers over his back.

Sated.

Exhausted.

Comfortable.

“It’s never been like that before,” I finally said. He pulled out, discarded the condom and lay on his back, pulling me toward him. “I mean we’ve never . . .”

“That wasn’t f*cking. That was something more.”

My stomach flip-flopped at his words. He felt it too.

He kissed the top of my head. “How long are you here?”

“Just until Saturday. Tomorrow I have lunch with my producer and his assistant—I think they thought it would take longer to negotiate my contract.”

“Did you get a lawyer to look at it?”

“No, I didn’t bother.”

“Beth, you should have said. I could have had a lawyer look at it.”

“Haven’s brother is a lawyer; he would have looked at it, but the way I see it I have nothing to lose. I’m getting what I need just by them asking. My main concern was ensuring I didn’t have to fly over here every week.”

“Nothing to incentivize you to do that, huh?”

I slapped him on the arm. “You know what I mean. I don’t want to have to fly over. If I choose to, that’s a different matter.” He kissed me on my head. “I’ll be over here to do the filming, then again when the first segment airs. I think they said they want to do a live interview.”

“So you’ll be back next when you film your segments?”

“Yeah, in about two weeks.” I liked that he was interested—more than liked it.

“How long will it take?”

“A day, I think. They don’t have much time and they’re only five minute slots.”

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “You’re here on the twentieth?”

“Filming on the eighteenth.” I pressed my lips against his six-pack.

“Well, could you stay a few days? I have a gala for the charity I’m a patron of. We could go together. What do you think?”

“A charity gala as our first date?” It was kinda public and very real. I knew I wanted to date Dylan, but going to a gala together just brought into focus that it was the first time since Louis that I would be someone’s date.

But Dylan wasn’t Louis. He’d given me no reason not to trust him.

“I might shout for dinner before then, but I’d love to have you as a distraction at the gala. It would make the evening much more interesting.” He slid the phone back onto the table.

“Like in public when we’ve got clothes on and stuff? I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s my kind of thing.” I laughed as I poked him in the abs.

He chuckled. “I promise we can do lots of things naked before and after.”

“If you promise.”

He rolled me to my back and claimed my mouth, pushing his tongue between my lips, making me want him again. Pulling back, he brushed my hair away from my face. “You could stay at mine when you come back. There’s no need for you to get a hotel.”

Only a few hours ago he’d been so mad he could barely look at me, and now here we were, dating, going to charity galas. He’d invited me to stay at his house.

“Can I think about it?”

He moved off me. “Sure.”

“I want to. It’s just, I’m so used to having my own space. I can be crotchety and mean sometimes, and I’m not sure I’m ready for you to see that side of me quite yet.”

He chuckled. “I bet you couldn’t be mean if you tried.”

I stroked a hand down his chest.

“But I can be patient. You think about it.”

“I like you. And I want to do this. I just may need a little time to adjust. I’ve been single a long time.”