Because I Can (Necklace Trilogy 2)

“Taken?” I demand. “That’s what I’m doing?”

“Yeah, baby, but it had to be that way. And I like it. Say what you were going to say. You’re not going to stop what?”

“Wanting you.”

His lips curve, his breath a warm tease on my lips. “Well just know this, Allie, I won’t stop wanting you either.”

My God, did we just tell each other we love each other in a public bathroom? “Dash,” I whisper. “Dash, what are we doing?”

“This,” he says, and his mouth closes down on mine again. And just like that, he’s kissing me with such intensity, such passion, I can only moan. I have a vague moment when I realize this is still about control. His control, not my control. The problem is I like it when he’s in control. I like his kisses. I like the way his hands feel on my body and when my skirt is at my waist, and only when my skirt is at my waist, do I jolt back to reality. I catch his wrists. “We can’t.”

“Until we do,” he says, cupping my face, kissing me again, Lord help me, his hand is between my legs, pressing under the silk of my panties. His fingers glide through the wet heat of my body and I moan into his mouth. He shocks me then by ripping away my panties. I gasp with the unexpected action, but already he’s lifting me, sitting me on top of the bathroom sink. His hands are all over me, and somehow my blouse is open, my bra shoved down, to the point I might as well not be wearing it. His fingers are on my nipples, teasing them, pinching them.

He consumes me oh so easily, but I don’t fight it. I’m done resisting.

I reach for him, my hands sliding under his shirt, and we’re instantly frenzied, both of us shoving his clothes until his pants are down and he’s hot and hard and pressing inside me. Dash scoops my backside, his hands on my now naked backside, and lifts me, folding me into him. Now he’s holding both our weights, when he leans against the wall, anchoring us, and I don’t even know the person doing this right now.

I’m leaning backward, with nothing but his hand between my shoulder blades holding me up, my breasts thrust in the air, my hips thrust against him and I ride him right here in the bakery bathroom. It’s insane. I’m insane. But I don’t care. I lose myself in the pleasure, the moment, the man and it’s over way too fast but probably not fast enough considering our location. We are fast and hard and wild until we’re both panting and I’m leaning into him, my arms wrapping his neck.

Dash shifts our weight and helps me to my feet. Wordlessly, we put our clothes back together before he cups my face and stares down at me. “I’m sorry. I know I pushed hard. I just—I can’t—I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The words “I’m sorry” surprise me, and speak to the many layers that represent this man. The gentle, demanding, intensely talented man who’s taken my life by storm. The man who has loved and lost, who can’t bear the idea of losing someone else. “I’m sorry, too. I know I scared you. And I do appreciate you worrying about me. But you did push hard.”

“I don’t like Brad Waters’ obsession with Allison, that doesn’t fit his persona. And I especially don’t like that obsession turning on you.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s happening.” I hug myself. “Is it?”

His hands come on my arms and he says, “We’re not taking any chances. Until we find Allison, I want you to be careful. And stop asking around about her. Let Neil—that’s my former FBI buddy—do the asking around. Promise me.”

“Yes. Of course, I promise. I’m not trying to be stupid. That’s why I’m here, where I knew people.”

“I shouldn’t have used that word. I would never call you stupid. I wasn’t calling you stupid.” His lips curve and he rubs my cheek. “You have lipstick all over your face. I’ll leave you to fix that. I’ll be at the table waiting for you. Our table. I’ll move your stuff over.”

“Our table?”

“Yeah, cupcake. Our table. That okay with you?”

“Yes,” I say. “It is.”

He strokes my face and when he would turn, when he would leave, I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I catch his arm, halting his exit, and when he looks down at me, I say, “I have no idea why I just stopped you. I just wanted to say something else—”

He cups my face and kisses me. “Yeah. I know. Me, too. But I better go before we get more attention than we need.”

I nod and he releases me, exiting the bathroom. I follow him and quickly lock up behind him. My God, what am I doing? Aside from having sex in a public bathroom and almost telling Dash I love him. And I do. I love Dash Black. I haven’t let myself go there, but it’s too late. I’m there. I can’t turn back and all despite the fact that Dash and I have a cycle starting. We fight, we have sex, we mend. Repeat. Apparently, no matter where we are at the time. And not for the first time, I’m certain that Dash and I are both broken, so very broken.