He could get laid in a heartbeat if he wanted to. Since Meghan, he’d resisted one-night stands, mostly because he knew he didn’t care enough to even remember their names if it came to it. He’d reaffirmed that he’d made the right decision after the night he’d been with Sarah. That shouldn’t have been a one-night stand. It should’ve continued. No other woman made him feel the way she did. They never would.
And eleven years without a woman, aside from the too-brief encounter with Sarah… Dylan was coiled tighter than a cobra.
“You know what?” Sarah called from behind him.
Dylan turned to face her.
“Why don’t we start with dinner? I know it’s late, but I’m hungry. There’s a small café downstairs. They’re open twenty-four hours. We can grab a bite, then we’ll talk about the sex.”
His eyebrows lifted. He was on board with that plan. Though he hadn’t exactly expected sweet Sarah Davis to be quite so blunt.
“Dinner,” he echoed. “Then sex.”
Sarah laughed. “I didn’t say that. I said talk about sex.”
“I didn’t know you were into that kinky stuff.” He was trying to lighten the mood, and the smile she shot him told him he’d succeeded.
“Talk, Dylan. Listen carefully. Process what I’m saying.” She smiled. “That doesn’t mean we’ll have sex.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But you want to.”
Her chin jutted out slightly, as though she was thinking about it but trying to reject the idea. A full-fledged grin formed on her pretty pink mouth. “It’s not the worst idea in the world.”
Closing the distance between them once more, Dylan cupped her face and held her there, simply looking at her. “I’m game. For both. Dinner and sex. Or talking about sex. Whatever.”
A laugh escaped her as she pulled back. Dylan allowed his hands to drop to his sides.
“Good, ’cause I’m starving.” She removed his jacket and laid it on the bed. “Now, come on, let’s—”
A knock interrupted her, and Dylan peered over at the door.
Sarah hightailed it over, standing on her toes and peering through the security hole. When she turned around, her eyes were wide. She backed up against the door, palms flat against it as though she was trying to hold it closed.
“Sarah?”
Bill.
Great.
The little fucker must’ve realized she’d left the club.
The idea that Bill had brought Sarah to the club with the notion of putting her into a precarious situation pissed Dylan off. It made him want to beat the shit out of the guy. The bastard clearly didn’t know how to treat a woman.
And you do?
He hated his subconscious sometimes. It chose the most inopportune moments to speak up.
Fine, he wasn’t the best example, but still. When it came to Sarah, he really did want to start over with her.
Moving closer, Dylan didn’t speak. Her eyes widened the closer he got, and he knew right then what he needed to do.
“DYLAN.” SARAH KEPT HER VOICE low, praying Bill couldn’t hear her through the door. “What are you doing?”
He was closing in on her, his eyes determined, his mouth holding a seductive grin, and damned if her body didn’t start humming as he neared. He was stalking her, and she felt every ounce of his masculine fortitude right down to the core of her.
When he had closed the distance between them, his hands moved forward quickly, thumbs sliding beneath the hem of her dress, forcing it higher on her thighs as he gripped her hips and lifted her off the floor, her back pressed against the door. Then his mouth was on hers and she couldn’t resist, wrapping her arms and legs around him instantly.
Oh, God.
As soon as his lips were on hers, she remembered how easily he could control her body with a simple kiss. Then again, there wasn’t anything simple about Dylan’s kiss.
A sweet heat filled her belly, her sex clenching as he claimed her mouth. There was something so … naughty … about him kissing her while Bill stood on the other side of the door.
Sure, it was a crappy thing for her to do to the guy who’d invited her to this hotel in the first place, but in her defense, he had ruined the night by springing a sex club on her.
“Sarah? Are you okay?” Bill’s muffled words sounded through the door. “I wanted to apologize for the things I said. And … I wanted to check on you. I saw you leave with … him.”
Dylan’s lips broke from hers, trailing down her neck, leaving her breathless.
“Sorry,” she called out, her voice stronger than she expected. “I…” She couldn’t even bring herself to lie to him.
“Are you feeling bad?”
“No,” she said. “I’m feeling quite good, actually.”
Dylan’s low chuckle vibrated against her neck as his lips worked their way back to her mouth.
“Do you want to go get something to eat?” Bill sounded concerned. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Yes,” she said, gripping the back of Dylan’s head and pulling him back so their mouths separated. “But not right now.” And not with you. She obviously didn’t add the last part.
“Sarah? Is someone in there with you? Is he in there?”
She didn’t answer him, crushing her mouth to Dylan’s as a desperate ache sent her nerve endings in a frenzy. A flash fire of passion consumed her and she really wanted Bill to go away.
“I … uh…” Sarah lost her train of thought when Dylan’s mouth resumed its trek over her neck. He sucked her skin into his mouth and her nipples hardened painfully. She felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her, and she didn’t resist the urge to grind her hips, adding a sweet friction to the already overwhelming sensations.
Dylan growled quietly.
“It’s okay, Bill,” she finally said, letting her head thump against the door as Dylan continued to press urgent kisses along her neck, across her collarbone. “I’m good. I’m just gonna … go to bed.”
Bill didn’t respond and she wondered if she’d surprised him.
Not that she cared. Sarah was more worried about spontaneously combusting right there in Dylan’s arms. His lips moved up to her ear, his teeth tugging on the lobe briefly before he said, “Send him away, Sarah. It’ll be less embarrassing for him.”
Embarrassing? Huh? “Why?” she said softly.
“Because when you scream my name”—Dylan’s words were a hot rush spoken softly into her ear—“while I’m tongue-fucking your pussy, I’m sure he’ll realize exactly who’s in here with you.”
Sarah couldn’t form words. The mental image he’d created had her clit pulsing. If he wasn’t careful, he’d make her orgasm from his words alone.
“Okay,” Bill called, uncertainty in the single word. “I’ll go. Are you mad?”
“Not at all,” she said truthfully.
“It’s just… I know what I did was … wrong. But I want us to be friends if nothing else.”
She had been mad. He was right about that.
But not anymore. At the moment, she couldn’t think clearly enough to sort through the emotions consuming her.
“Okay. Good. We’re friends,” she assured him.
Sarah bit back a moan when Dylan ground his erection against the apex of her thighs, stimulating her clit through the thin fabric of her panties.
“Well, then, I guess I’ll check on you later?” It was phrased as a question.
“No need,” she told him. “I’m … good.” Better than good, actually.