Page 26 of One Night Only
“Oh my—” I shake my head. “What the hell do you even want with me anyway? You’re Dallas Shaw. According to the internet you have beautiful women throwing themselves at you everywhere you go!”
“I don’t want them,” he answers quickly, his gaze all encapsulating. “I want… more.”
I scoff. “You realize I’m, like, ten years older than you, right?”
“Nine,” he corrects easily, flashing me another knowing look. “You’re not the only one who did their research. And, besides, I’ve always liked my girls a little bit older.”
I narrow my eyes, glaring at him. “It was one night. One night of drunken stupidity. One nightonly.”
Dallas shakes his head, still grinning to himself as he watches the traffic, his words low when he says, “Goldie, you are certifiable if you think what we did was a one-time thing.”
He glances at me then, arching a brow. And, as I think back to the night we spent together, as much as I hate myself for it, I can’t fight my own smile.
It was official. I had finally lost my damn mind.
Not only was I more tipsy than I’d ever been on a Tuesday night, but I was currently in the back of a cab while a guy I met less than two hours earlier was trailing his big hand between my thighs, skirting dangerously close to no man’s land, while simultaneously tracing my collarbone with his tongue. I considered calling 911 because I was on the verge of spontaneous combustion, and it was not going to be pretty.
As Dallas licked and sucked the sensitive skin at the base of my neck, I swallowed the moan that threatened to make an escape. When his thumb grazed me in a place that hadn’t been touched by a man in over three years, my thighs instinctively clamped together, earning a throaty chuckle that sounded like pure sex against my heated skin.
“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he whispered between each kiss he peppered up the column of my throat, stopping at my ear where he playfully dragged the lobe between his teeth.
My thighs eased apart, and I shuddered when his hand continued exploring me, firm yet tentative as he stroked me through my panties.
“You’re soaked, baby,” he murmured against the shell of my ear, voice gruff and a little pained, as if this was affecting him almost as much as it was affecting me. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
My mouth fell open on a gasp. Oh. My. God. I gripped his wrist as he continued rubbing me with fervor, holding him right where he was and shuffling my thighs as far apart as my dress would allow, granting him better access, which only made him snicker again.
“Needy girl,” he uttered, gently sliding the lace aside. When his fingers met my slick center, he buried his face into my neck with a low groan. “Fuuuuuck.”
Every one of my senses was overwhelmed the moment he dipped a finger inside me, the pad of his thumb finding that aching bundle of nerves. I reached for him, urging his mouth to mine because the poor cab driver was about to overhear a slew of profanities if Dallas didn’t seal our lips together and kiss me right at that moment.
I felt him smile against me as I moaned into his greedy mouth. He thrusted his tongue inside in a way that was so filthy and sexy as hell, swallowing my sounds with the kind of all-consuming kiss I’d always dreamed about yet had never been on the receiving end of. He wrapped his hand around the back of my head, grabbing onto the short lengths of my hair, and held me hostage against his lips, taking absolutely everything from me.
Right as he slipped another finger inside, hooking them and reaching that one spot I’d always doubted even existed, the car came to an abrupt stop, and a bright light illuminated the inside of the vehicle.
With a gasp, I pushed Dallas off me, wiping my lips with the back of one hand, while tugging my dress down with the other.
“That’ll be twenty-three even,” the oblivious cab driver said, glancing over his shoulder and doing an almost hilarious double take.
I know I’m a hot mess, Driver 16439,I thought,thanks for noticing. I couldn’t even look at the man, but thankfully Dallas had it covered as he handed over far more cash than necessary to cover the journey.
The driver guffawed. “Nice tip, Tex.”
“Thank you kindly, sir,” Dallas said, moving quickly to hop out of the car.
I scooted across the back seat, muttering a thank you to the driver as I took Dallas’s proffered hand, allowing him to pull me up onto my trembling legs.
“Tex?” I looked up at him, one brow dubiously quirked.
“I’m from Texas.” He shrugged, closing the cab door before wrapping an arm around me. “It’s a nickname.”
“Are you on a nickname basis with all the Yellow Cab Co. drivers?” I teased.
He sniffed a laugh, looking down at the pavement while rubbing his chin. “Yeah, something like that…”
I’d been so preoccupied in the cab, that I hadn’t even realized where we were. As I looked up to see a converted warehouse building, the Manhattan Bridge right there in the background, I was more than a little disoriented. How we made it from SoHo and across the river to Brooklyn was beyond me, but there we were.
Dallas removed his arm from around me, taking my hand instead, fingers intertwining between mine in a move that seemed more than just casual. He kept me close as we continued to a big metal door and he swiped a keycard across the panel, the lock mechanism unlatching with a loud click that rang through the night. Grinning at me over his shoulder, he opened the door and as we stepped inside, I was thankful for a reprieve from the cold wind blowing off the East River.
