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“I can do you one better. Let me take you back to your hotel, Syn.”

His chair creaks. I feel his body heat before his hand grasps on to mine. Opening my eyes, I take him up on his offer. Dom calls for the bouncer to bring his SUV to the back door.

With his arm curved on the small of my back, he helps me down the stairs. At the car, he guides me in, offering me his arm to hold on to as I grasp the hem of my dress to keep it from riding up. Dom is a gentleman, but he is still a man, and I don’t miss the smolder in his dark eyes before the lights inside the SUV shut off as soon as the door closes behind us.

“Where you staying?” He buckles my seatbelt, then does his.

I give him the address. Send Taron a text message.

“Migraine. Dom driving me home. Sorry. Let’s try again tomorrow. Have fun.”

As soon as my message is delivered, my cell phone rings. I glance at the screen. It’s Taron.

“Hello.”

“Want me to head back?”

“No, you stay and have fun. I’ll be a bore anyway, lying in a dark room. I’ll take some meds and call it a night. Do you have your room key?”

“In my pocket.”

“I want in more than your pocket, big guy,” I hear on the other end of the line, followed by Taron’s chuckle. The woman squeals as though someone squeezed her ass and she is surprised and turned on.

Gritting my teeth, I tip back my head and close my eyes. I shouldn’t be jealous or angry. Taron isn’t my guy. Also not his fault he is such a chick magnet with his panty-melting body and good looks. He epitomizes tall, dark, and handsome.

“Go have a good time, Taron. I’ll see you in the morning.”

20

Syn

Idreamt of him again. Have been doing so nightly since finding out he was in Dumas. Taron’s large body takes up sizable surface area on my full-size bed.

I am curled into him with my chest to his back and my leg slung over his hip. I love how perfectly we fit. How his large hand covers my small one when I slide my arm under his and tunnel my fingers in his chest hair.

So soft, his hair. Springy too. What about the rest of his body? I would like to know. I trail my fingers down the center of his torso, lingering on the ridges of his six-pack abs. Hard muscles. Soft skin. Warm flesh. Hot. I am burning up from the inside out, and I need more. I need to touch myself. To feel the stickiness of my arousal on my fingers as I come, hard, moaning Taron’s name.

I need to shed my undies and tank top. I am not someone who sleeps well nude. I pull away from Taron, missing his body heat the instant I’m on my back, shimming off my undies and yanking my tank top over my head. Realizing this is a dream, I leave my clothes wherever they fall on the bed.

Were I awake, I would hop out of bed and drop them in the hamper in my room. Or the bathroom. Messy isn’t my thing, either. I am so happy this is a dream and there isn’t sticky sex aftermath to worry about. Smiling, I curl into Taron’s body and slip my arm under his muscular one.

I am back to where we were. Back to gaining some traction and some progress. I’ve gotten this far in my dreams of him, but never all the way. This time, I want to go all the way.

His hand covers mine, and I tremble. His thumb skims my finger, and I moan. A simple touch. But oh so hot. Simmering. Sweltering. Steamy. I can go on and on, but the instant he guides my fingers down his body, I let go of the control I have on my brain. Let go of the insecurities that make me not like sex.

Am I good enough? Is he thinking of some other girl while he’s with me? Do I smell good? Taste good? What if I make a weird noise and he laughs? What if my body makes a weird noise before, during, or after sex? What if I bleed afterward? Will he think I’m strange? What if he doesn’t like the feel of my lip ring on his erection?

Let go.

Let go.

Don’t think. Just feel.

I feel the velvety tip of his cock.

Feel his groan of desire straight through to my core when I coast my fingertip over the bulbous head. Feel the give of his boxers as he covers my hand with his, guiding me up and down the length of his thickness.

“Syn, baby, I want you.”