His fingers are between my legs, stroking my sex, and then his palm is on my backside, with a sharp smack, that smites my skin, and leaves me gasping a mere moment before he drives inside me. I pant with the punch of pleasure, the pump of his cock, and then he’s thrusting into me, over and over, hard and deep, but it’s just not enough. I want to yell at him. I want to touch him. I want to feel him deep inside me, over and over again.
He drags me off the door, against him, my back to his chest, leaning around me, he catches my face with his hand—he kisses me, wildly, deeply, and this right now, is all lust and demand, possession and control, but I don’t care. I want it all right now. I don’t know where he starts and I end. Where I start and he ends.
Somehow, I have no idea when it happened, one of my hands is back on the door, and one of his hands closes on the front of my throat, holding me there—an erotic grip that doesn’t hurt but I feel the pressure every time he pumps into me. I wonder if he knows his palm is on the necklace. I wonder if that’s why he’s doing this. I worry that it will break but he just keeps thrusting and pumping and my body blurs my fears. I’m angry. I’m aroused. I’m a million things I can’t name. Something about his hand on my throat —oh God.
My body betrays me.
Without warning, I tumble into orgasm, crying out as he drives into me, a low guttural groan roaring from somewhere deep in his chest. With all that explodes between us, I all but collapse into the door, but Dash’s arm slides around my waist, catching me, holding me up. His face is buried in my neck, and for a few seconds, he holds me like that. Until finally, he says, “I’ll get you something.”
I nod and he pulls out of me.
My legs and my emotions are mush and I rotate to lean on the door and slide down the surface to sit on the floor. My hand goes to the necklace, and relief follows as I find it still secure at my neck. Dash returns quickly, squatting in front of me and offering me a towel. I take it from him and stick it between my legs, but I could really care less about anything right now but him and us.
“What was that back there, Dash?”
“You weren’t wrong. It was history ignited between me and Tyler. I should have never let it become about you. I’m sorry.” He offers me his hand and helps me to my feet. “I don’t want you in his house, Allie. I want you here. Stay here.”
Because he doesn’t want me at Tyler’s place. That’s what I take from that. And that’s when I know I’m not alright, we’re not alright. Not even close. I’m now thinking about my thoughts earlier tonight. About how we would either crash into each other or just plain crash. I was right, but the crash is now.
“I’m back to being a game token for you and Tyler,” I say. “And I don’t like it. And he wasn’t wrong. I’m going to get hurt.”
“I want you here with me, Allie. I wouldn’t ask you to move in with me to one-up Tyler. You can’t believe that.”
He catches my arm and tries to pull me to him. I press on his chest. “No, Dash. I’m too attached to you already. I’m too attached and that wasn’t the plan. We’re both a mess, both fucked up and we don’t even want to tell each other why. But do we want to live together for a couple of months? I’m going home.” I try to pull my arm away.
He drags me to him and this would be so much easier if being pressed to him didn’t feel so damn good. But it’s now or later, and now will hurt less. “Don’t go,” he says softly. “I need you to stay.”
“We are not good for each other, Dash. I was wrong when I said this wasn’t about me tonight. It was. And we are too fucked up not to fuck each other up even worse. And you might survive that, but judging from how much this hurt me tonight, I don’t think I can. You won’t just hurt me. You’ll destroy me.”
He stares at me a beat that turns into three before his hand falls away, his tone resolute. “I’ll drive you home.”
“We walked because we’ve been drinking. I’ll call an Uber.”
“I’ll ride with you and don’t tell me no. I’m riding with you, Allie.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The ride to my house, my very temporary house since I just quit my job, is quiet, but the ping pong of emotions between me and Dash screams through the silence. The car pulls to the front of my place and I get out. Dash follows me and I turn and hold up a hand. “You’re not coming in.”