What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

Dash groans with my orgasm, his gorgeous face contorted in pleasure, his head tilted back in an animalistic display of pure masculine pleasure as he quakes to release. He pants out a breath and leans into me, and now his hands are on the island, holding his weight. He kisses me. “God, woman. And that’s all I have to say right now. Let’s get out of here. Tell me you’re ready.”

“I am,” I say, because the truth is, I am always ready when it comes to Dash.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

It’s somehow two in the afternoon when we arrive back at Dash’s place, both of us are still stuffed from breakfast. We end up cleaning the kitchen together and I make a pot of coffee. It’s almost three when we settle onto his living room floor, both with our MacBooks open, with the fireplace going and the pot of coffee I made has filled our cups. It’s almost as if we’re together, and I have to remind myself that we just said we are, in fact, just that.

I’ve spent an hour on my work, watching Dash struggle with words, when his cellphone rings where it rests on the table.

“Bella,” Dash says, answering the call. He listens a moment and replies with, “Next Saturday then. Yeah. No. Don’t go there right now. Be my agent. Make this work.” She says something else to him I can’t hear and they disconnect. “There was a mix-up in the booking. It’s all next weekend, not this weekend but we can still go to Aldean’s.”

“No, we can’t,” I say. “You need to get a grip on this book, Dash. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll read it from the beginning, if you read it from the beginning.”

“That’s going to take us both hours.”

“Okay.”

He grimaces. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“Me? You’re stubborn. You want help. You have it.”

“All right. I’ll read it, if you’ll read it. How do you feel about pizza?”

“Like I need to workout. I’m eating like shit.”

“Done. I have a full gym. We’ll workout later.” He grabs his phone. “What kind of pizza?”

“Feta if they have it and pineapple.”

“That’s weird,” he says.

“It’s very good.”

“We’ll see. I’ll be testing it.”

“And I’ll be reading. Send me the file. I’ll text you my email.”

He dials the pizza joint, and the minute my email hits his instant messenger, he shoots me the file. I grab both our coffee cups, refill them, and settle in for my new Ghost Assassin read. Thirty minutes later our cups are empty and I’m already into what looks to be an amazing read when the pizza arrives. Dash greets the pizza delivery person and grabs us both bottles of water.

“Okay, it’s pretty decent,” Dash says, after inhaling a slice of my feta and pineapple.

“Told ya,” I say. “Now shhh. I’m reading a good book right now.”

“Don’t tell me it’s good if it sucks.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Dash. It started out with a bang. I like it. I feel spoiled getting this early look. Nothing is wrong so far. Nothing.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but we finish off our pizza and this time he refills our coffee cups. About an hour later, I laugh at a scene that is truly brilliant. Dash’s gaze rockets to mine. “You’re really gifted at taking a scene that is so damn brutal and adding humor to make it palpable, Dash.” I want to ask him if his father has read his books, or attended his movie premieres, but I respect the topic and even understand it. When he wants to talk about it, if he ever wants to talk about what happened with his father, he will.

It’s hours later, and the sun has set, the city alive with multicolored lights just outside the window, when I finish the book. I close my MacBook and Dash does the same.

“Tell me what you think. Is anything wrong?”

“You tell me what you think.”

“No,” I insist. “You tell me.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d do differently. I tried to find what was bothering me and now I’m not sure it’s bothering me at all.”

“Because it’s really good. I can’t wait to find out what happens next. Can you please write it quickly?”

He studies me a long beat that turns into two before he kisses me hard and fast. “I need to write. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course I am. I have a ton of work to do. Write the book.”

He smiles and then turns back to his MacBook and I watch a master go to work.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Our work time is productive. I organize all the donations and the appraisals, while Dash bangs out so many words, he now feels he might actually be able to make an early deadline, though he doesn’t plan to tell that to Bella.

“She can be surprised,” he tells me, calling it “our secret.”