When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

It’s right then that cameras do indeed start flashing. Wonderful. Dash motions us to the door and in a crush of people we step inside, where Bella motions to a security guard. Dash calls for a car, and the three of us stand there, watching the building staff handle the problem.

Bella glances at me. “Wait until the next book, movie, or TV show.”

I eye Dash and he nods. “She’s right. But it comes in waves. Today that article was the trigger.”

Bella grins. “Because my brother is famous.” She glances at me and moves seamlessly to another topic. “What do I bring for Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, please,” I say. “Nothing. My mom goes way overboard with food.”

“Well, what does she like? I’ll bring a gift.”

“Candles. She loves candles.”

“Candles it is.” She smiles.

A thought has me looking at Dash. “What if they got pictures of us kissing?”

“I’m sure they did. And why does it matter? The world knows we’re together now, Allie.”

“Woo,” Bella says. “I hope Brandon sees and eats his little heart out.”

Exactly where my head is at right now. Brandon is not a man to be goaded and take it well.

“Our car is here,” Dash says, “and so is yours, Bella.”

Bella waves to the guard and with his help and that of a police officer, we exit the building as a couple of reporters shout questions at Dash. Once we’re in the car, which is not an Uber but a private hire, Dash says, “Home, Evans.”

“You got it, Dash.” The man eyes me over the seat. “Evening.”

I greet him and sink into the leather seat. Dash tangles his fingers with mine and says, “He’s handled, baby. I promise.”

He reads me even better than I read one of his brilliant novels. I touch his cheek. “I hope so.”

He kisses my hand. “He’s handled,” he repeats. His confidence is contagious, and I choose to believe him. Because I trust Dash. And because today is the day I choose to be happy.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Dash and I enter our apartment and he helps me with my coat and bag, shrugs out of his own coat, and then just that fast, I’m against the door and he’s kissing me. God, how he’s kissing me. Deep strokes of his tongue, the press of his hands on my body, the press of his hips to my hips, his erection against my belly.

“Did I mention how much I wanted to be inside you all afternoon?” he asks, his eyes heavy-lidded, his voice rough with desire. “Did I mention how much I always want to be inside you?”

“No, but feel free to show me,” I say, and that’s exactly what he does.

My shirt is off in a blink and so is his. Thick-roped muscle teases my hands. My bra is dragged down, his eyes ravishing my exposed breasts, my puckered nipples. He drags my skirt up my hips and in a rush of us both grabbing at his pants, they’re down. We don’t stop until we’re both naked, until my leg is at his hip and he’s pressing inside me, thick, hard, and oh so good. I’m panting when he cups my face and says, “He’s never going to hurt you again.”

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”

“Good. You’re mine now.”

I smile and say, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

I’d tell him he’s mine, too, but he’s kissing me again, cupping my backside and driving into me, him at my front, the door at my back. Our breathing fills the room. His hair wraps my fingers. Sensations rock my body.

Dash shifts and turns me, walking toward the couch, where he sits down and then I’m on top of him. I’m straddling him, my hands catching on his shoulders, fingers flexing. Our eyes lock, and he says, “God, woman why do you always make me feel like I’ve been waiting for this all my life?” He cups my head and drags my mouth closer. “I’m yours too, Allie. You know that, right?”

There are times when I think Dash will never be all mine, and another woman isn’t the problem. His self-hate is, but right now is not one of those moments. There is a pull between us, magnetic, intense, and I whisper, “Yes,” overwhelmed with all the crazy sensations this man makes me feel.

I press my lips to his and he moans, a low, rough masculine sound, his tongue a sultry slide against my tongue, and then we are swaying, moving together, loving and fucking, and all over each other. A rush of movement. Then slow. Fast. Repeat. Our lips part, our breaths mingling, before we erupt into wildness again. And I don’t want this to end. I don’t want it to end. Ever. I don’t want anything but him and us, and yes, forever with Dash. But even if we are forever, this cannot be. Passion roars between us and the fierceness of our need for each other and ultimate satisfaction can only be tamed so long. Dash drags me down and thrusts hard. My body spasms around him. I tumble into one of the most intense, body-quaking orgasms of my life.