Page 34 of Endgame

That’s the last thing I want. My numbness is only masked—there’s no room for “getting to know each other.”.

For all I know, we’re alone in this bar because nothing exists outside of Callaway and me.

I need to make him see that.

“Who said anything about getting to know each other, Callaway?

Who am I and what has taken over my body?

My confidence has no limits tonight.

I’m a live wire about to utterly combust.

If I don’t leave here tonight with his tongue down my throat and those thick fingers shoved in my pussy I might die.

I’ve suddenly become frantic for him—consequences be damned.

I make quick work of my chance and slowly peel my body off the bar stool. My hips roll towards him in a fluid motion. Cal’s trying his best not to stare down my top, looking me directly into my eyes.

He's a gentleman; I’ll give him that. Too bad I’m not interested in the respectful side of Cal tonight. I want his disrespect, those hands all over my wanting body, and his cock giving my pussy the relief it’s aching for.

It’s settled. I’m making my move. No regrets. I’ll have plenty of time to feel guilty tomorrow…after I’ve had a night full of orgasms.

I need this.And I find myself trusting him enough to chance this for a night.

I lean into his space, my body taking up as much distance as possible without an inch of distance spared. His lust is palpable. My heart can feel his irregular rhythm, with the weakest part begging for us to be in sync.

I take my small hands, in comparison to his large thighs, thighs built on endless hours of work and dedication. I drift them teasingly up his legs until they reach the uncharted territory of his wide hips.

He’s massive. If I look down, I know I’ll find a thick bulge fighting against the seam of his jeans. But my eyes are focused on the dark haze settling over his vision.

The lack of clear visibility in the club allows my pride to have far too much fun. There’s something about privacy in the dark that makes me feel seductive and confident. Sinful lust clouds Callaway’s vision as he bites out, “Jesus, Dakota. You’re sexy as hell.”

He has no idea what those words do to me.

My chest meets his as I lean slightly to the right of his face, allowing my smooth skin to connect briefly with his light stubble. I’m heading straight to the place I hope will seal the deal for tonight. My lips latch onto his ear lobe, drawing it in between my teeth and licking the tip, letting him feel how turned on he’s making me.

I feel his chest in a heavy shutter filter in waves throughout his body. I love the effect I have on him.

I can barely stand; my control is unraveling. All I can focus on is how incredible his body feels against mine, and the prospect of taking this further brings me the strength I need to stand.

He must catch on to the vibes I’m giving because as soon as my mouth leaves his ear, his hands are on me, lifting my hips swiftly and settling me on his lap.

Bend me over now; he’s painfully hard.

This successful and perfect man is hard for me. This should be when I realize what we’re doing is wrong—but I can’t. I’m finally doing something for me, and that feels pretty damn great.

He surprises me by gently lifting his palms to cradle my face as he looks me in the eyes, determination in his stare.

“I’m trying my hardest to take it slow with you. Let you see how good it can feel to let me take control. I’m a patient man; I can wait. But these backroads of the sexiest fucking curves my hands have ever felt are making me question my strength and morals.”

His dirty mouth.

Feistiness alive and well inside me, I attempt to draw him in further, “Wanna get out of here, then? I’ll let you test out that theory.”

I’m practically throwing myself at him, offering my body up for a night of uninterrupted pleasure. He should be throwing me over his shoulder and dragging me out of this club. Instead, he meets me with furrowed brows when I ask him. The lust slowly fades as determination comes forth.

“Go on a date with me.” Once again, he’s telling me, not asking. That level of entitlement should wave a red flag for me, but it’s the opposite for this Golden Retriever. My body has yet to catch up to my brain. It’s still transfixed on my desire which will now need to be relieved with the help of my vibrator. I respond without a thought, “I can’t date you, Callaway. That’s not an option for me. No strings is all I can give you.”

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