Pickup Lessons (Awkward Arrangements Book 3) Page 12

  He’s with me in this room, in this moment, as focused on each sensation as I am, and all at once, things feel huge and serious. With him, I’m tripping into each moment, pulled by the gravity of something real and big and unstoppable. With him, I’m happy to fall.

  My orgasm takes me by surprise, gripping me with such intensity that all I can do is ride through the waves of pleasure, crying out, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” as I come.

  Before my thoughts fully return to my body, Dash’s pressing his lips to my neck, my face, my breasts, feathering me in kisses. The last one lands on my mouth and restores my senses, rooting me in this moment with him.

  “Holy shit,” I finally say. It’s inelegant, but it sums up my thoughts exactly.

  Dash’s face lights with a dark arousal. “We’re not done yet,” he growls. “Flip over. On your knees.”

  I comply with shaking limbs, and Dash groans at what he sees. He presses a kiss to my spine while he cups one of my breasts in his hand. His finger flicks over my nipple, tightening it almost painfully. My core clenches on cue, like it’s wired to the sensitive skin under Dash’s hands.

  I groan, absorbing the feeling, reveling in it. Already, another orgasm builds behind the first.

  “You want me to fuck you?” Dash rasps.

  “Yes.”

  He stops palming my breast and slides his hand down my back and to my ass, raising goosebumps in its path.

  I shiver under his touch as his hand slows and caresses my ass, the other hand gripping my hip. My body responds like clay, his to mold and shape. He’s an artist turning me more beautiful with his touch.

  I’m open and exposed for him, but when I look over my shoulder, I find him appraising me with such bare desire that all I feel is trust. Need burns through me, pure and vicious, consuming all my previous insecurities and leaving a wanton desire in its wake.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he says. “I wish I could draw you right now.”

  “Touch me instead,” I pant.

  With a wicked grin, Dash reaches between my legs and slides a finger inside me. It’s not nearly enough. Not when I can feel his cock pressing eagerly against my ass, thick and full. But Dash just murmurs in appreciation and withdraws his finger, sliding my wetness up onto my ass cheek.

  The air feels cool against the dampness on my skin, and I press my forehead to the mattress so I can focus on the shivery sensation. The second I close my eyes, a soft slap lands on my ass. Pleasure spikes through my veins, and it’s an equal and opposite reaction—the sting of his palm and the pressure building inside me, threatening to consume me.

  I cry out, but the slap doesn’t really hurt. All it does is make me wetter than before.

  “That okay?” he asks, urgent and concerned.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “So good, Dash.”

  He slides a hand back between my legs. “Fuck, E,” he rasps. “You’re drenched.”

  “Mmm,” I moan.

  “You’re making it so I’m gonna slide right into this tight pussy.”

  “Please,” I whimper into the sheets.

  Another stinging slap, this time on the other cheek. “You’re going to have to be louder, angel.”

  “Please fuck me,” I beg.

  He grips my hips and lifts me into position, aligning our bodies so I feel all the heat of his desire in the place I want it most. And then, with a groan, he pushes inside me. “Fuck, Eden. Fuck.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  I’m so full and hot and needy, his body a perfect fit for mine.

  I rock back against him, helping him slide all the way home. The base of his cock rooted in me, his body flush against my ass.

  “You’re so tight,” he moans, dropping his chest so it presses against my back. He plants his forehead between my shoulder blades and we breathe there, for a minute. “You’re gripping me so good, angel.”

  I rock back again, and Dash bites off a growl, thrusting into me and wrenching a gasp from my lips.

  “You like that?” he asks.

  “Yes.” With him I’m all yes, yes, yes, like every moment of the past few months has conspired to bring us here. There’s no fighting against how alive I feel, how wanted. There’s only giving in and giving back.

  Dash moves his head from my skin and leans back, both hands landing on my hips where he grips me as he starts to move in earnest. Sliding into me over and over, the pressure in me building like steam.

  I meet him with every move, loving the way his hands feel on my skin, how he feels like heat and pleasure inside me. “Keep going,” I whimper.

  My legs quake and my arms burn with the strain of holding myself in this position as he slams into me, but I force myself to stay upright. Everything’s shaking into pieces as sweat rises on my skin, but I don’t dare stop, can’t stop, wouldn’t dream of being anywhere but here.

  “Give it to me, angel.” Dash drives so deep into me that I see stars, and my body starts to stiffen.

  I force myself to breathe, to feel, as I race toward my climax. And then Dash flicks a finger against my clit, and I splinter apart.

  “I’m coming,” I say. “Oh my god, Dash, I’m coming.” I’m pure, shining electricity and light, the waves of my orgasm breaking over me like a star exploding. For a second, I feel like I’ve left my body, like I’m high above Dash’s bedroom, floating and happy.

  His voice brings me back—the raw pleasure, the raspy tenor of his words.

  “I can feel you squeeze me.” A hitch in his breath, his grip tightening, his pace picking up. “Oh shit, you’re going to make me come too.”

  I keep moving, staying with him and letting him lavish me with attention. I love how powerful I feel as I strip away his control, turning his muttered curses into an incoherent roar.

  “Fuck, Eden, yes!”

  With a final groan, he stills, and I feel his cum pump into me. I roll my hips and absorb the sensation, the heat of his orgasm and the powerful rush of blood in my veins.

  Then Dash kisses my back and slips out of me, pulling me down on the bed beside him. I pillow my head on his chest as he strokes a hand through my hair.

  “I like when you let go,” he whispers, his words equal parts noise and rumbling sensation. “When you ask for what you want.”

  I nod. “I like it too.” Then I bite my lip as I consider the opportunity we have right now, on the small island of his bed. I’ve been denying myself the pleasure of his undivided attention, but I don’t need to anymore. Not if I ask for it. “You’re everything I want,” I confess. “You always have been.”

  Dash’s warm lips press into my hair, and his arms band around my shoulders, pulling me so close I feel his heartbeat. “I want to be the one to hold you, angel. To kiss you. To make you laugh and come. From now on, that’s my job. No one else.”

  I nod again, then tip back my head and kiss him lightly. For the first time in my life, I’m doing something entirely for me—living as the whole me. And the whole me—the nerdy, determined, overachieving, goofy human that is Eden Ellis—knows the version of myself in Dash’s arms is the most authentic version of me yet.

  “I’m yours, Dash,” I whisper. And when I say the words, I realize how true they are. I’m his, but I’m also mine, too. Giving my heart to him doesn’t mean I lose myself. It means owning who I really am and what I want.

  When I pull back from his embrace, I catch sight of a full-size Aliens action figure staring at me from the top of Dash’s dresser. I yelp and draw closer to Dash. “What the hell is that?” I ask, pointing a finger. I must have missed it in our earlier passion. “Has that been there the whole time?”

  “It’s an alien, from the Aliens movies,” he says, tracing a hand down my back. “I’m a big fan. Dark Horse does the comics.”

  I shudder. “It’s kind of creepy.”

  He grins and nuzzles my ear. “What? You don’t like threesomes?”

  “I thought I was only yours,” I protest.

  “Oh, yes,”
he says, dead serious. “Want me to show you again?”

  I’m smiling so wide I can’t hide it. “I wouldn’t be opposed.” I nod and slip out of bed, turning the alien to face the wall before I saunter back toward Dash’s drop-dead sexy body. “All better,” I say. “Now where were we?”

  20

  Dash

  A pane of sunlight falls into my face on Friday morning, jolting me from a dreamless sleep. When I breathe deep, the scent of sex filters through my lungs to rouse vivid memories of yesterday afternoon.

  The first thing I think is holy fuck, I slept with Eden.

  The second thing I think is holy fuck, we’re in some serious shit.

  Yesterday, everything with Eden was too soon and too perfect to bring up the Titus-shaped elephant in the room, but in the cold light of morning, it’s all I can see.

  How the hell do I broach this subject with him? Just walk up and say, “Hey, I know you don’t think I’m good enough for your sister, but she fucked me silly last night, and nothing’s going to stop us from doing it again”?

  I thought he’d injure me for thinking about her and kissing her. I’m pretty sure if I tell him we slept together, he’ll murder me or disown me.

  I’m not sure which is worse.

  The engine that is Exhilarate Design Company doesn’t work without both of us. We’re a team deal that relies on his back-end magic and my front-end designs. Exhilarate Design is like Captain Planet—with our forces combined, we’re stronger than we ever could be alone. But now I’ve crossed a line that I can never uncross, and everything’s at risk.

  The sticker of it is there’s a ticking time bomb hanging over us. In two weeks, someone’s got to show up at The Hole in a toga and admit they lost the bet, and a simple flash of bedsheet’s going to unravel our whole charade. But before I can deal with any of that, I need to call things off with Megan.

  I have no idea how.

  I reach for the phone, and my hand hovers over Titus’s name in my directory. I need his cool logic to talk me through this. Can you meet up to talk? I send.

  Even though I’m only going to ask for advice about Megan, my palms sweat as if I’m going to accidentally confess everything to Ti about his sister.

  Luckily, Titus’s response comes quickly. I’m booked today.

  Huh. For someone who spends his life wrapped up in his job, I can’t imagine what he has going on.

  Ok, I send back, caught between relief and confusion.

  Drinks, though? he sends. Happy hour at Ballard Station Public House.

  Sold.

  I drop my phone and reach for my sketchbook. I’ve got hours to go to figure out how to say things just right. For now, I need to draw.

  I uncap the pen I keep on my bedside table and sit up against my headboard. Then, with my sketchbook propped on my knees, I start to draft a series of Eden from last night—her lush body, the curved lines of her stretched across my bed, the rise of her hips and the swell of her breasts. It’s a memory I want to keep forever, and drawing her now is a gateway to the story I plan to tell for Dark Horse.

  There’s no more waiting around and lingering with ideas that never materialize.

  To get what I want, it’s time to act.

  “Tell me the problem,” Titus says, rolling a glass of beer between his hands. Heart of Stone IPA, number thirty-three on our list.

  I push aside my matching glass and study him across the table. How do I word this just right? “You know the bet between me and Eden…”

  “The fucking bet,” he groans. “Not again.”

  I hold up a hand to placate him. “Let me start over. You know how I’ve been seeing this girl?”

  “The blonde?” Titus asks. When I nod, he says, “I like her.”

  My shoulders go tense. “Yeah,” I scrape out. “So.”

  As if he expects what’s coming, Titus grimaces. “You fucking it up already?”

  “Ouch, man.”

  “Sorry.” Titus waits patiently, and as he stares at me, a new realization hits me—seeing Megan to break up with her is another way to win and lose at the same time. Not nearly as satisfying as winning and losing by dating Eden Ellis.

  Fuck me.

  Before I can respond, Eden’s laughing voice floats across the room, as if just thinking about her has made her appear. “There he is, the reigning Wii Tennis champion.”

  “You didn’t…” I turn away from Titus to search for the source of the noise. Sure enough, I find Eden making her way toward us wearing a teasing smile and another cock-hardening dress. Seeing her gets me hotter than the sun, but having her overhear me talk about some other girl is also the last thing I want.

  I turn back to Titus. “You didn’t say she was going to come.”

  Titus shrugs. “It’s Friday night. She asked what we were up to.”

  I catch the way he says we, like he and I are a package deal. The hole I’ve dug for myself just got deeper.

  I nod like it’s no big deal, but I shut my damn mouth because I’m not stupid. Also, I’ve got what I need.

  “Can you excuse me for a second?” I ask just as Eden reaches the table.

  Hurt flashes in her eyes, but Titus doesn’t even notice.

  I bail toward the bathroom without waiting for a response. Down a back hallway, I find two private unisex bathrooms across from the kitchen. I duck into one of them, dampening the noise of clattering cookware and the smell of grilled cheese as I close the door behind me.

  The bathroom is small and crappy, a lidless toilet and a rickety counter under a flickering lightbulb. Guess the management put all their resources into the decor in the main room.

  I sigh and lean against the countertop to send Megan the message I’ve been avoiding. I can’t put her in the middle of this drama, and it’s not as simple as never calling her back. I may not have connected with her the way I’d hoped, but she deserves the courtesy of me doing the right thing. Thank you for everything. I’ve had a great time, but my heart’s not in this.

  My heart’s with the girl outside.

  Megan’s message comes after a nerve-shattering moment. I’ve gotta say, I’m a little blindsided, she sends. I think you’re a really special guy, Dash. If you need to sort yourself out, I can wait.

  Megan might want me, but she doesn’t know me. And while that insecure kid who lives in my past might have held tight to the idea of two women wanting me at the same time, the man I am now needs to do the right thing.

  Thank you for saying that, I send. But that wouldn’t be fair to you.

  I wish her the best of luck, and she makes me promise to look out for Princess Diana. With a lump in my throat, I tell her I will.

  A soft knock sounds at the door, making me jump. I shove my phone in my pocket and crack the door to catch Eden’s worried brown eyes looking up at me. When I widen the door for her, she steps inside.

  “You hiding from me?” she asks softly like she’s afraid of the answer.

  If she thinks that’s the case, she hasn’t been paying attention at all.

  “No, E.” I sweep a hand into her hair and press my lips against the soft skin of her forehead, kissing away the crease between her eyes. “Clearing the air with other people.”

  She blows out a relieved breath and nods. “Okay,” she says like she’s talking herself down from a ledge. “Okay.”

  I draw my hands from the base of her head to cup her jaw, holding her gaze on mine.

  “You’ve been busy,” Eden purrs, glancing down at my exposed forearms.

  Ink stains the side of my hand and runs halfway up my arm, evidence of my day sketching. I spent the morning plotting a character arc for Everest, the ass-kicking, world-saving princess of Planet Tundra who does it all in sexy shoes.

  Three hours of drawing, and when I hopped in the shower to get ready for tonight, the ink wouldn’t scrub away.

  “Drawing,” I answer. Her eyebrows raise in a silent question. “You,” I admit. “Only you.”

  Before I ca
n comprehend it, her arms are around my neck, her mouth on mine.

  “Did I ever tell you how much I like your hands?” she breathes.

  I brush one of said hands down her side, relishing the way she shivers under my touch. Then I inch it across her hip, lifting up the hem of her dress and dipping my fingers inside her silky black panties.

  She’s fucking dripping for me, and I drop my head to her shoulder on a groan. “So fucking sexy, Eden,” I bite out, pumping a finger into her.

  I’m insatiable and hard as steel, and she is the only fucking thing in the world right now. “You like my hands when I do this?”

  “Yes—yes,” she gasps. Her head lolls back under my touch, and she braces herself on my shoulders as I brush my lips across her skin to keep working her.

  There’s nothing sexier than the way she trembles under my touch, my mouth on her neck, my finger deep in her pussy.

  Her breath comes out in shallow pants, and her grip tightens on my shoulder. “Dash, you make me feel—” Another moan. “Keep going.”

  I comply, sliding a second finger in beside the first to fill her. As her legs stiffen, my phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me back to reality—we’re going to get caught.

  “Shit,” I wrench out, breaking away.

  “Dash,” she whimpers. “I’m so close.”

  “Fuck, Eden. Fuck.” I wave my hands at the door. “Your brother. We’ve been gone too long.”

  She nods and bites her lower lip, and I can’t imagine leaving now even though every piece of logic in my body screams I’m making a mistake.

  I sink to my knees in front of her and stare up the length of her gorgeous curves. “You know I love to hear you scream, right, angel?”

  She nods, her eyes huge and needy.

  “Good. I want you to remember that. But right now, I’m gonna need you to come fast and hard and quiet.”

  Before she can react, I’m tasting her, pulling her panties aside to plunge my tongue into her wet folds. Her hands drop to the back of my head and hold me there as she grinds her hips, seeking release.