It’s the alcohol talking, I know. I get tipsy, I get stupid. And I need to make clear decisions where Dax is concerned.
I push off the stool suddenly and wobble on my heels. He reaches out and steadies me, and his scorching hot skin on mine sends shockwaves straight to my heart. “You okay?” he asks me, and he’s so close now that I can feel the heat radiating from his t-shirt, smell, that deep, masculine smell of grease and soap that is so uniquely Dax.
I tear myself away from him, and out of the cave-like darkness of the pub, into the cool, salty sea air of the city street. Seagulls squawk overhead. The sun is setting and stars are beginning to pop out in the sky. When I turn around and see him, eyes locked on me with this magnetic stare, everything around us falls away.
I take a step toward him and my heel catches on the cobblestone street. “Take it easy,” he says, wrapping me into his solid arms. “Come on.”
He guides me forward. I feel a steady hand massaging the small of my back through my shift. It feels comforting, relaxing, but the direction we’re heading in is not. He’s walking me back to the street where we’d parked his Mustang. And then he’ll bring us home, back to reality, and this warm, safe dream world, this world that is just Dax and me, will disappear forever.
I whirl around to him, my eyes bleary but pleading. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and beg him silently to make a move. Any move. Anything to keep us here a little longer.
His eyes glimmer with understanding. He fixes a lock of hair behind my air. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Katydid?”
“Dax,” I whisper, and my eyes fall upon my hands. They’re on his chest, gripping whatever handfuls of his t-shirt they can manage. It’s like every one of my pores is crying out to be filled by him. He has to hear them, crying for him.
And then he confirms it. He dips his lips down and presses a soft kiss onto my hairline, sending shivers through my body. I waver on my feet.
He takes my hand and leads me down the street a little, toward the harbor. Gloriously away from his car. My body spikes with a thrill of the unknown, as he suddenly swings me around to the side of one of the buildings into a closed off, narrow alley.
He cages me in there, against the side of the building, one strong arm on either side of me. His mouth descends on mine, hard and rough, his teeth taking my bottom lip, ravaging me. His tongue slides between my teeth, his stubble moving and sliding against my skin. It’s all-consuming, not just a kiss anymore. This is thrusting, fighting, fucking with our mouths. It’s raw and hard and exactly what I expect from someone like Dax Harding.
We’re in the middle of the city but even so, there is nothing at that moment but his mouth and lips and tongue, taking me, making me his. His mouth is hot and hungry, making my breath shudder as his hands move down my bare arms.
I want what I had last night. I want more than that.
As if he feels that longing, his fingers trace a sweet, insane path to my breasts. He finds my nipple through with the pad of his thumb, already hard for him. I’m desperate, aching for that release, for the feeling of his tongue on my bare breasts. I want to pick up where we left off last night. I want him to taste me. I want him to taste me everywhere.
He lets out a small groan and his hands climb down the sides of my ribs. I know it’s frustration because his hands are finding nothing but fabric. Finally, he reaches down to my thighs, to the hem of my dress. He’s tugging it up, letting the cool air hit my upper thighs, higher, and higher. I let him slip his hands under my backside and scoop me up, wrapping my legs around him, feeling him, so hard against my aching sex.
Holy fuck. I cry out as his tongue explores its way down my neck. His hands are cupping my bare ass, and I’m exposed, but I don’t even care. I want more, and I’m not even sure I can ever have enough of this. Only he could make me feel this way. This is the bad girl Katie, the one only Dax Harding could unleash.
He pulls away, eyes uncharacteristically wide. “Katie?” he murmurs, running a finger down the side of my face.
“Mmm?” I say, licking my lips.
“You’re not wearing underwear.”
“I forgot them,” I whisper. “Is that bad?”
He lets out a low chuckle. “No. Surprising, for you, though.”
I smile. “I didn’t think Dax Harding got surprised.”
His finger slowly makes its way to my lower lip, resting there. My tongue slips out, tasting his finger. He lets out a ragged breath as I take his finger into my mouth, sucking on it. He groans. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbles, his body falling against me. “You’re sure you’re a virgin?”