The Dare Collection: June 2018. Lauren Hawkeye
through her blog.
‘I’m a man.’
Wasn’t he just? She nodded, stopping short of rolling her eyes back at the solid hard bulk of him pressed against her. ‘You are.’
She knew enough about human interactions to know there was more to Ash than the charming backpacker, despite appearances. For a start, he was older than the typical traveller, she guessed early thirties. Although casually dressed in slightly rumpled clothing, he carried himself with that air of command, confidence and authority that was such a turn-on—she practically had drool on her chin. That he was bothering to explore the reasons behind her hesitancy instead of ramming his tongue down her throat or hurrying her inside faster than he could say ‘God Save the Queen’ was another astounding point in his favour.
But the less she knew about him, the easier it would be to walk away. When she left in the morning, she’d feel satisfied no boundaries had been crossed, no misunderstandings had been created and no feelings had had time to develop.
Mustering every ounce of confidence and female allure, she gripped his biceps and pressed her body closer. ‘Are we on the same page?’ Her limbs twitched while she waited for his confirmation. What if she’d read him all wrong? What if, like her ex, Ash thought her too clingy? Surely he could appreciate the merits of this—they’d never see each other again.
Ash dipped his head, pressing his mouth to hers once more. ‘Totally.’ The word buzzed over her tingling lips and then the tip of his tongue dipped inside. With a surge of lust Essie embraced the kiss, scooping her arms around his neck with renewed enthusiasm.
Please let her be right about his sexual talents.
When she pulled back, breathless, she registered her surroundings. They’d come to a stop outside a rather upmarket hotel in St James’s. She looked up at Ash, her eyes round.
‘Is this where you’re staying?’ She’d guessed that he was more than he’d seemed in the park, but wealthy...?
He shrugged, a playful twitch on his lips.
Yes, Ash had offered to pay for her sandwich at lunch, but after she’d insisted on paying for herself, he’d accepted they’d be going Dutch for the rest of the day. He hadn’t flashed money around—a definite turn-off for Essie, who had what her flatmate called money issues.
He released his grip on her waist and Essie missed his touch instantly. ‘I know the owner. I’m only here tonight.’ He placed his index finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. ‘Changed your mind? It’s okay if you have.’
So considerate.
Her body was still fully on board with spending the night with this ruggedly handsome stranger. And did it matter if he had rich, hotel-owning friends? She wouldn’t know him long enough to confess her monetary hang-ups, ones that originated with her absent father, who used affluent bribes and constant gifts as a substitute for investing quality time in his only daughter’s life.
A shudder snaked down her spine.
One of the reasons she’d taken a job working for her half-brother, which began tomorrow, was to start earning some money. Finally, after five years of full-time study, she’d actually be able to support herself rather than take more student loans. Because she’d rather be in debt for the rest of her life than take one penny from her scheming father. She’d never once cashed one of the regular cheques he sent towards her tuition fees. It felt like hush money, and by accepting it she would be condoning what he’d done, to her, to her mother, to his wife and to Ben. She’d rather live on a park bench.
Ash, perhaps interpreting her silence as a change of heart, stepped back half a pace, ending the delicious contact between them and leaving Essie more bereft than the dark turn of her thoughts had done.
‘I’m happy to walk you home...or put you in a cab.’ He shrugged as if it was no big deal but his stare darkened as he looked down at her, waiting. A stare of longing, one that matched the well of sizzling heat rising up inside her.
Don’t spoil what promises to be the best night of your life with your hang-ups.
Essie moved closer, her fingers finding the belt loop of his jeans. She tugged, bringing his chest into contact with hers, scraping her nipples to exquisite, nerve-tingling awareness.
No way would she back out now.
‘Are you sure?’
Yes, yes, yes...
At her silent nod, he took her hand, laced his fingers through hers and led her inside the glass and chrome rotating door of the swanky hotel.
Essie hurried after him, his longer strides swiftly guiding her across the elegant foyer that she was too turned on to appreciate. Her last thought—how nice it must be to know someone who owned such a well-appointed and convenient establishment—fled the minute the lift door closed and Ash pinned her against one wall with the stealth and predatory instincts of a jungle cat.
Essie surrendered to the reckless impulses, so foreign but urgently addictive. She climbed him, her own instincts set free as her hands tugged his hair and her mouth found his while her legs encircled his thighs and she clung to him for dear life.
Every taut inch of him was hard. She knew, under his slouchy clothes, he’d be sleek and toned and bulging in all the right places. They broke apart long enough to hurry from the lift to his room, although she was so turned on that Essie was certain she’d floated.
He took a key card from his pocket, swiped it through the reader and stood back so she could enter first. Essie turned to welcome him as he followed her inside, her pent-up libido and the fizz of adrenaline in her blood making her embarrassingly eager. She gave him no time to activate the lights or even wait until the door had fully closed before she leapt at him, the air leaving her in a whoosh as he caught her around the waist and hauled her up to his equally insatiable mouth.
The chemistry between them practically melted her body to his as if they’d been welded together.
The kissing, unlike anything she’d known, was so voracious she whimpered out her pleasure. With dizzying speed, Ash deposited her on the bed, whipped off her underwear and produced a condom.
Essie panted while he tore at his fly and covered himself, a look of desperate concentration on his face, barely visible in the gloom. This was wild, audacious and thrilling. But then Ash’s mouth was back on hers, his fingers stroking her nipple to a peak through her clothing while he pushed slowly inside her, and she lost herself to what she was certain would turn out to be the single best sexual experience of her life to date.
She wasn’t wrong. Ash pulled his mouth from hers, yanked his T-shirt over his head and reared back. With her hips gripped in his large hands and her stare locked with the white-hot one he bore down on her, Ash pounded into her again and again.
He was a god—ripped torso, a smattering of dark hair trailing down to his magnificent manhood, which she couldn’t see, but which was currently rendering her a speechless bag of raging female hormones. When he scooped her hips with one arm, not losing his rhythm, and slipped his free hand between them and located her clit, her world fractured and a broken cry left her throat as she came, shortly followed by Ash.
Yep—best sex ever.
Go, Essie.
ESSIE EXITED THE Piccadilly Circus Tube station into glaring sunlight and joined the mass of people heading towards the start of their work week. Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she dragged her sunglasses from the top of her head and scoped out another coffee fix. Of course, if she’d had more than three hours’ sleep last night, she wouldn’t need another dose of caffeine. But she always worked on her blog first thing in the morning when the words flowed freely and the ideas were fresh, and this morning, the morning