His body shook with restraint as he grabbed her hips to lift her off, but she tightened her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m on the pill. I swear. I’d never try to trap you like that other girl did. We don’t have to stop.”
Heart attack averted, a relieved laugh tumbled out. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s the least of my worries. Are you sure?”
A wicked grin slid across her face. “I’m your wild thing, aren’t I?”
“Hell yeah you are,” he gritted out, and reclaimed her mouth.
Sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, flesh against flesh, moans and whimpers, as they lost themselves in each other. Their breaths came faster, their skin growing slick. Dash intensified his efforts, holding her tight against him as he thrust faster, harder, their hearts thundering as one.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her need driving his.
He recaptured her mouth, her fingernails digging deeper into his skin, pain and pleasure spiking through him. He felt her muscles tense and knew she was close, his own release gathering inside him like a cyclone, thunder booming, waves churning. She tore her mouth away with a stream of indiscernible sounds, her slick heat tightening around him. Every pulse pushed him closer to the edge, teeth clenched, muscles rigid, hips pumping. Just when he was about to give in, she grabbed his shoulders, catching a second wind, riding him harder, until they surrendered to the pleasures crashing over them. He rasped against her neck, a curse and a plea, as they rode the waves of their love.
When she went boneless in his arms, her cheek resting on his shoulder, she giggled. “We have our socks on.”
Socks? He ran his hand down her leg to her ruffled sock. “You know how much I love you in ruffles,” he teased, turning her giggles to full-on laughter, making him laugh, too.
“We barely made it out of the elevator.” She lifted her head and looked around. “Nice entranceway.” More laughter bubbled out. “Your wild thing has turned into a sex fiend.”
So fucking cute. “In that case, let me give you the tour of the bedroom.”
Chapter Nineteen
AMBER STOOD AT the windows in Dash’s living room as he took a call. They’d had a wonderful morning, sleeping in, taking a long, steamy shower, walking Reno, and making breakfast together. Dash had pulled her into his arms to dance while breakfast was cooking, and she’d tried to teach him a line dance, but they’d ended up laughing and kissing.
If only they had a week together instead of just the weekend.
From the safety of his opulent penthouse, with the morning sun reflecting off the windows of other buildings and glittering off the water like diamonds, it was easy to pretend they were far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. She’d love to curl up with Dash on the couch and spend the day locked away from the rest of the world. But they didn’t have more time, and she was excited to see the Big Apple through his eyes. She’d only ventured into the city once while she was at Boyer, when Charlotte and Aubrey had dragged her there. It was loud, exciting, and a little terrifying. But she knew it would look and feel different with Dash.
She reached down to pet Reno as Dash’s arms circled her from behind. She’d been surprised to see that in addition to dog food, he’d bought Reno bowls with his name on them and toys. He’d even arranged for someone he trusted to walk Reno while they were out. He still hadn’t told her what he’d planned for them, but she’d worn her most comfortable flat-heeled boots.
“How’s my girl?” his minty breath whispered over her skin.
She turned in his arms. “How can I be anything but great when I’m here with you?”
“I was asking myself the same thing.” He kissed her. “Are you ready to go?”
“Mm-hm.” She crouched to love up Reno, her seizure-alert necklace falling forward as she petted him. She really didn’t need it since she was with Dash, but she felt safer wearing it. “Be a good boy. I love you.”
Dash petted him, and then they grabbed their jackets and headed downstairs. “That’s our ride,” he said as they stepped outside. Putting his hand on her back, he led her toward a shiny black sedan. A man dressed in a suit was standing by the back door.
“Our ride? Doesn’t everyone walk or take the subway here?”
“We’ll walk a bit, but we’ve got a big night ahead of us. I don’t want to tire you out.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I prefer to tire you out when you’re safe and naked in my bed.”
Her body shuddered with the delicious memories of last night, when he’d done just that.
“Good morning, Mr. Pennington, Ms. Montgomery,” the man in the suit said as he opened the back door.
“Good morning.” Amber felt funny having someone drive them around. “You can call me Amber. What’s your name?”
The driver looked at Dash, who nodded. “Chuck Marx, ma’am.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Chuck. But if you call me ma’am again, you’ll make me feel old.”
“Sorry, ma—Amber.”
Amber climbed into the car and scooted over for Dash to get in beside her. As Chuck went around to the driver’s side, she whispered, “We don’t need a driver.”
“Just go with it.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it.
As they drove, the sidewalks and streets became busier. The driver pulled over in front of Strand Bookstore and got out to open the door for them. “We’re going to the Strand?” she asked as they climbed out of the car, knowing the store’s rich history. The city had once been home to a whopping forty-eight bookstores in only a five-block stretch of what was then Fourth Avenue and had been known as Book Row. The Strand, founded in 1927 by a Lithuanian immigrant, was now the only remaining bookstore from Book Row, though it had been moved in the 1950s to its current location on Broadway and Twelfth Street.
“Just for you, baby. It’s one of the ten most famous bookstores in the world. At some point I’ll take you to see the others in Paris, San Francisco, Venice…”
“Dash!” She threw her arms around him, her heart sprinting in her chest. She marveled at the famous red awning, boasting 18 MILES OF BOOKS. “Are you sure you want to take me in there? I might never come out.”
“Sweetheart, if you’re happy, I’m happy. We have all day.”
As they headed inside, she said, “I’m serious. They have a huge selection of used and rare books.”
Amber tried to be mindful of their time, but she and Dash were having too much fun. When Dash found out she didn’t own a leather-bound edition of her favorite book, Pride and Prejudice, he insisted on spoiling her with a stunning 1894 trade edition. It had all one-hundred-and-sixty Hugh Thomson illustrations and the beautiful peacock cover. After spending far too long checking out every inch of the store, they picked up a few children’s books for Emma, and Amber bought one of Hawk’s coffee table books despite Dash telling her Hawk would give her one. Hawk’s work was gorgeous, and she liked supporting his efforts.
When they finally left the store, Chuck was right there waiting to take them to Times Square, where they held hands as they strolled down the sidewalk, admiring the holiday decorations. They bought an adorable outfit for Emma with pink-and-white ruffles around the ankles and wrists, and they stopped at a café for lunch, where they had soup and shared a sandwich. They got hot chocolate to go, and Chuck whisked them away again.