Pickup Lessons (Awkward Arrangements Book 3) Page 11

  Behind her, Dash sits in my abandoned desk chair, his eyes warm and hopeful and so familiar that desire slides into my chest and makes a home there.

  “Dash,” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”

  His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Greer’s my escort,” he says, pointing at his visitor badge like that explains everything.

  Greer shrugs a slender shoulder. “I found him by the front desk. He looked kinda desperate.” She bites her bottom lip and leans forward. “And cute.”

  It’s true, too. Dash’s messy hair falls in his eyes, and his dimple winks like a beacon. If I were to build a lighthouse on a dangerous coast and put Dash in the tower, that smile would help me find home.

  “Hmm,” is all I can murmur. I slide past Dash, catching a whiff of his cologne as I plug my laptop into its docking station. The dark, rich notes of his scent bombard my senses, crowding out all reasonable thoughts.

  I want to kiss him, right here in my office with fifteen coworkers watching.

  I shiver with the memory of St. Patrick’s Day and Dash’s tongue in my mouth. His capable hands, his kiss that felt like coming home.

  Dammit. I’m more turned on by that elicit memory than the prospect of the sanctioned date I’ve scheduled, and I know right there all hope is lost.

  Over my shoulder, Greer waves her hands at me and Dash. “Okay, well, I’m gonna let you do your thing.” She winks at me. “You’re the new escort now, you saucy thing.”

  Dash levers himself out of my chair. “Let me take you to lunch,” he says, warm and inviting.

  My heart stutters in my chest, and I nod before I can stop myself. “Okay.” A smile slips over my lips. “Yes. I’d like that a lot.”

  Dash hands me the coat from the back of my chair, and when I slip it on, it smells like him. I grab my purse and lead him toward the door. Then, side by side, we walk out the door of my Wallingford office and onto the street.

  WanderWell sits inside a refurbished three-story building at the far end of a main sprawl. Ringed by restaurants in every direction, it gives its employees convenient access to nearly any type of food you might want, all a quick walk away.

  “What are you hungry for?” I ask, and the look Dash sends me is so heated that a wave of arousal floods my body.

  Damn.

  All he has to do is look at me and I’m lost.

  His mouth quirks up in a smile at my reaction. “I booked us a spot at the Italian restaurant down the street.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  “I think I know you really well, E.” He leans back on his heels and flashes me a grin. “Plus, rosé goes best with carbs.”

  Stop making me want you. Don’t tease me if this can’t work out.

  An ache of longing lodges in my chest and I don’t let myself hesitate before I hook my arm through his and lead him down the street toward the restaurant. We tuck ourselves into a tiny booth, his knees against mine, and order a pizza and salad to split.

  After the waiter takes our orders and drops a garlic bread appetizer on our table, Dash leans back against the red vinyl booth and grins at me like he’s discovered the secret to world peace.

  My stomach swoops, and I force myself to be brave. “What’s that smile about?”

  He shakes his head and leans his elbows on the table, cupping his chin in his hands. “Remind me of the rules of our bet, E.”

  God, the bet.

  Instantly my blood cools, and I wonder if I’ve lost already, if I’ve read this impromptu lunch all wrong. Maybe the kiss we shared was only a way for him to distract me from my goal. It’s entirely possible that the second I pushed him away, Dash ran right back to the arms of the veterinarian for date number three.

  The smell of garlic bread turns my stomach, and I feel like I might puke.

  “The rules,” Dash prompts in my silence.

  I draw in a shaky breath, unwilling to let him see me squirm. “The first of us to three dates with the same person wins the bet,” I mumble, shoving the words out as fast as I can so I don’t have to taste them in my mouth.

  “Right.” The smile spreads back on his face, warm and sweet as honey, and the pit in my stomach widens. “I hate to break it to you, Eden Ellis, but you’ve lost the bet.”

  No.

  Hope puffs out of me, and I drop my shoulders as hot tears of disappointment threaten to betray me. I wanted him, and I was wrong that he wanted me back.

  “The good news,” Dash says cheerfully, twirling the edge of a cloth napkin between his fingers, “is that I lost, too.” He nudges my knee with his and produces a smile. “It’s over.”

  I blink at him, hearing the words but not understanding. “Dash,” I say. “What the hell do you mean?”

  18

  Dash

  “I don’t understand.”

  Eden presses both palms flat to the table and lifts her shoulders toward her ears. She’s wearing a work outfit—a simple, cream-colored dress that drapes along her collarbones and spins from her gorgeous legs—and she looks so damn pretty. Also, pretty damn confused.

  “The deal was the first person to three dates wins, right?” I ask.

  She nods slowly.

  “So, what constitutes a date?”

  Her mouth drops open, and her forehead creases. “Um.” It’s cute to see her flustered—Eden, who rules the world by knowing it all. Eden, who’s come at this all wrong. “One-on-one time with a person you’re attracted to,” she guesses. “A mutual agreement to spend time together.”

  My grin widens as she makes my point for me. “Right. Let’s count ’em, E.” I lift my fingers, and excitement bubbles in my veins as I tell her what I realized the other night. “One: the night after Cord-with-no-H. Two: drinks with your misbehaving pussy on Saturday.” She groans, but I press forward. “Three: St. Patty’s Day at my place. And that’s not even counting today.”

  Eden’s eyes widen. “You wanted to date me?”

  I nod, serious as sin.

  “But…all those girl you hit on. The veterinarian…”

  I reach across the table and grab her hand. “Those weren’t serious attempts, E. How else could I pretend I wasn’t hung up on you?”

  Her cheeks flush the most gorgeous pink, and a surprised smile lights her face. “You sneaky bastard,” she says, her voice warm with admiration.

  “We’ve both lost,” I say. “Or maybe we won.”

  Our waiter arrives just then with our pizza and salad in tow. “Anything else I can get you?” he asks as he sets the food on our table.

  “Actually, yes,” Eden says, and she looks toward me with a wicked smile that’s like something out of a wet dream. “We’ll need some boxes, please.” My cock hardens at the suggestion in her tone. “We need to take this food to go.”

  “My place or yours?” Eden asks as we stumble out of the restaurant carrying bags of food.

  I close my mouth over hers in a breathless, greedy kiss, groaning at the thought of what she’s suggesting. It’s the middle of a workday, and I love that she’s giving in to everything, that she’s breaking all the rules. Right now, there’s no more worrying about other people or the bet between us—there’s just us, together, with her mouth on mine.

  Eden relaxes into me, pressing her body against mine with a soft little sigh. It’s a beautiful sound, a perfect sound, but any more excitement and my cock’s going to be at full mast in the middle of a city street.

  I pull my mouth from hers and work a line of kisses from her jaw to her ear. “Mine,” I growl in her ear. I’ve envisioned her on my bed, under my hands, a thousand times. I need her in my house, on solid ground.

  “Yours,” she agrees with a smile.

  Twenty minutes later, I’ve got her inside my apartment, but we barely make it past the front door. I push the coat from her shoulders and she claws at mine till we’re standing there, ragged with desire, coats piled on the floor and our carryout food order set on my side table
. Everything’s urgent and perfect and completely us. Because now that we’ve agreed to this, admitted what’s here between us, there’s no need to talk about it. Only a burning desire to act.

  The second her coat’s off, I back her up against the door for leverage, tilting her head so I can taste her mouth.

  Perfection. Pure, fucking perfection. I can feel my heart powering the machine of my body, but it’s a humming, electric buzz, like I’m running on energy that’s never been there before.

  “Jesus Christ, Eden,” I confess. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

  “For what?” she teases, but she says it like she’s already mine.

  I respond with a growl, bucking my hips against hers so she can feel how hard I am for her.

  Her pretty eyes widen in surprise, and a little “Oh!” puffs out of her gorgeous mouth.

  “I hated watching you with other guys,” I admit, dropping my hands to her hips and relishing the way I’m finally getting to touch her like I’ve craved.

  “I hated being with other guys.”

  I nod, fighting an emotion I can’t name. Everything perfect’s right here in this room. “I wouldn’t have traded a second of it because it made me admit what’s been here all along.” I hold her gaze, trying to slow down this moment. “It was always you, Eden. It always will be.”

  Her face softens, those gorgeous eyes shining back at me like a sunrise. My words seem to unlock something inside her, help her make some decision. “Phone,” she murmurs.

  I pull back in a daze and blink at her. “Phone?”

  She pats through her purse and pulls out a phone, pressing it to her ear. As the call rings through, I return to working her, sliding my lips over the column of her neck, savoring the salty-sweet taste of her skin.

  I find a spot just below her ear that makes her knees buckle, and I suck it even as she tells her boss she must have caught food poisoning at the restaurant. I hold on to her, never letting her fall even as she covers her mouth with a hand to stifle her moans.

  The second she ends the call, I pull the phone from her hands and drop it on the soft pile of our coats. “No more staying quiet, angel. I want to hear every noise you’ve got.”

  I feel wild and crazed, so painfully aroused that it’s hard to stand. I need her—now.

  I say a silent prayer of thanks for her dress, then spin her around so her forehead presses against the door.

  “Dash,” she murmurs as I kiss the crook of her neck.

  “I’ve wanted to peel this from your body since the second I saw you today.”

  She turns her head, and I catch a smile flitting across her lips. “Well, then, carry on.”

  With a rush of heat, I reach for the zipper of her dress, sliding it down to reveal the smooth skin of her back, inch by beautiful inch. She wears a sheer, black bra and a matching thong beneath that professional outfit, and I swear the juxtaposition of that good-girl dress and that vixen’s lingerie makes me halfway lose my mind.

  “Holy fuck, Eden.” I pull the dress from her shoulders and let it pool on the ground. “You are goddamn gorgeous.”

  She spins to face me, and the blood rushes straight to my cock at the sight of her hard nipples pressing against the sheer fabric of her bra. Her equally sheer thong reveals a glimpse of sweet pussy I’m dying to taste.

  My throat goes so dry it’s hard to swallow. “Eden,” I say like the sound of her name can ground me. She’s even better than the day she sent me pictures of herself in lingerie. Even better than my imagination.

  “Where do you want me?” she pants.

  Everywhere.

  I don’t know where I fucking want her first, but I know I’m too far away from her now. I close the distance between us, kissing her again, sliding my hands over her body until she trembles beneath my touch.

  At the first moan rippling from her mouth, I drop my head to her breasts, kissing a line between them. Then I pull down one of the cups of her bra and seal my mouth over that perfect nipple.

  “Dash,” she whimpers, pushing her hands into my hair with a sharp, delicious tug.

  I suck and kiss until that nipple hardens like a wet pearl. Then I lavish the same attention on her other breast, finally stepping back to admire my handiwork.

  The fine, dark material of her bra trusses up her petite breasts like an old-school pinup girl. She’s so fucking gorgeous—and all mine.

  I want to crawl inside this moment and then draw it so I can live it again and again. The light falling on her bare skin, her eyes blazing with heat.

  “You look—” I start to say, but beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it. “You look like you belong.”

  “Did ever you imagine me like this, Dash?” she asks. “Did you jerk yourself off and think of me?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Her face flushes, and she circles her hips, silently begging for me. It’s all the encouragement I need, and I decide right then I want to make a soft space for her, a place to cradle her while she comes.

  I spin her toward my bedroom and push her back gently on my bed, completing the picture that’s lived in my mind for months.

  “Your clothes,” she protests breathlessly as she squirms on my mattress. “Take them off.”

  “So demanding,” I muse, but I tug my T-shirt over my head. Then I drop my hands to my belt buckle.

  “Let me, Dash.” Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at me, and I give in with a nod.

  Eden sits up and works my belt carefully, her tongue caught between her lips. Her fingers brush my cock in the process, and I groan at how good she feels, how hard I am.

  When Eden loosens my belt and pushes down my pants and my boxers, my cock bobs like a steel rod between us, a drop of precum at the tip.

  “Holy shit,” she murmurs in appreciation. I’m not even sure she knows she said it, but my cock swells even more under her attention.

  “Is your name Eden Ellis?” I ask, nudging her backward so she stretches on the bed in a delightful tangle of hair and bare limbs.

  She narrows her eyes in a question. “Yeah?”

  “Good. Because in a minute, you’re going to be e. e. Cummings.”

  She throws her head back and laughs, which might be the best sound I’ve heard so far today.

  I crawl onto the bed with her, then drop my head and kiss a trail from her bellybutton south.

  A sensual moan swallows her laughter as I reach the top of her thong, and I scrape my teeth gently against her skin. With my tongue still on the soft skin of her belly, I slide her underwear down her legs. Then she’s bare for me, a picture worth remembering, a gift and a treasure and everything I need.

  I pull my gaze away only long enough to look at her face. “Eden,” I say, and her eyes go wide and serious at the sensual threat of my voice. “How much do you want my mouth on you right now?”

  “So much,” she breathes, jerking her hips toward me. “Stupid amounts.”

  With a grin, I slide my hands up her inner thighs to part her beautiful legs.

  “Good. Then today, you’re coming on my tongue.”

  Her answering moan makes me feel like I’ve already won.

  “Hold tight, angel. I want to hear you scream.”

  19

  Eden

  Oh my god.

  Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod.

  Dashiel Walton may not always be good with words, but he’s exceptionally talented with his mouth.

  The first flick of his tongue explores me, trailing leisurely from my opening to my clit like he’s testing my response.

  Just a single touch and my body bows off the bed, a keening sound wrenched from my lips.

  I slap my hand over my mouth and Dash freezes, and then I freeze because he’s not touching me and it physically hurts.

  “Hey,” he whispers, propping his chin on my belly. My clit stages an angry protest at our stalemate, throbbing and begging for release.

  “I just…I don’t want to be too loud.”


  “There’s no such thing,” Dash promises.

  I feel my forehead wrinkle. Dash pulls his face all the way away from my pussy and levers up on his forearms to look down at me. The intensity in his eyes makes me squirm.

  “Are you going to let me fuck you the way I want? Or are you going to overthink every noise you make?”

  Fresh arousal soaks my inner thighs at the dangerous note in his voice. My mind flashes to my Christian Grey-esque fantasy about him and those big, capable hands. “If I overthink things, are you going to spank me?” I whisper.

  Dash’s eyes widen, and for the first time, I’ve rendered him speechless. “Holy fuck, Eden,” he says after he recovers. “Is that what you want?”

  Why does it feel so hard to say it?

  I tear my gaze from his and blink up at the ceiling. Even as my cheeks burn with embarrassment, I know I’m done denying my need—for him and for his hands on me.

  Empowerment and all that, right?

  Every vision I’ve had of how to be a certain way dissolves, leaving me with the truth of the moment—I can pretend to be someone else, or I can live inside my body and let myself fully feel every ounce of pleasure that Dash wants to give me. With him, I know I’ll be safe.

  “Maybe,” I say. “I’ve never done it before.” Another shaky breath. “Yes.”

  His low growl of appreciation rumbles against my stomach. “First I taste you, then I’ll spank you. But I want to hear you. No holding back.”

  I nod breathlessly, agonized without his tongue on me after giving me that first preview of his skill. I lift my hips to his mouth. “Touch me,” I beg.

  He presses a kiss on my inner thigh. “I want all of you.”

  “All of me,” I promise.

  The second I give in, Dash dives between my legs with renewed enthusiasm, kissing and sucking and licking until I writhe against the mattress. I fight the instinct to press my hand to my mouth, clutching the sheets instead. I let a moan roll out of me, primal and wild.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs, circling my clit with his thumb. His slow, steady movements increase in speed as my breath comes out in hot pants. Faster and faster, until I can’t see and I can’t hear and the only thing I can feel is Dash’s incendiary touch. His thumb. His tongue. His breath on my skin.