Page 20 of Rematch

“You disappeared again. Second thoughts?”

She shook her head before he even finished his question. “Hell no.”

Her quick response provoked a loud laugh from him.

“You understand there’s no point of no return. You say no and it’s no.”

“I’m not going to say no,” she reassured him.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” Preston was so open with his actions and his compliments and his stories, even those that others might be too embarrassed to tell. She’d spent the entire evening fascinated by how easily he expressed his emotions, whether it was laughing at a joke or even scowling whenever she talked about Rick.

“Do you want a penny for your thoughts, or should I guess where your mind wandered?”

She thought about brushing him off, uncertain how he would feel if she confessed to thinking about her ex. Because she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, didn’t want him to think she wasn’t one thousand percent ready for this night with him.

In the end, her response wasn’t necessary.

“Rick?” he asked.

She grimaced, then nodded. “It just occurred to me that the lack of passion in our relationship carried over to the bedroom. Another item in the boring category.”

Chelsea wanted to kick her own ass for bringing up her ex yet again.

“Preston, I’m sorry. Rick is not what I want to talk?—”

“Challenge accepted,” he interjected.

“What?”

“Tonight. I have one goal. To show you exactly how you deserve to be treated in bed, so you never settle for less again.”

Chelsea didn’t realize her mouth had fallen open until Preston placed his finger under her chin to simultaneously close it as he leaned in to kiss her again. Then he twisted them, switching their positions, pressing her against the door at her back. He reached down, grasping one of her legs, lifting it around his waist so that he could press his denim-covered crotch against her.

There was no mistaking the thick bulge beneath his jeans, and her mouth watered at the idea of taking him in her hand, her body.

Preston rutted against her as they kissed, Chelsea tilting her hips as much as possible, trying to steal every bit of delicious friction she could.

She twisted her head when the kiss dragged on. She loved kissing him, but she needed so much more than that.

“Please,” she murmured. “I need you. Need…” She let her fingers do the talking as she reached between them, drawing her fingers along his dick. She couldn’t see it, but she could sure as shit feel it.

Preston was big everywhere.

He groaned, placing his forehead against hers, their hot, panting breaths mingling.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted. “In the best fucking way, Chels.”

He wasn’t alone in his madness. She pressed harder against his cock, then reached for the top button of his jeans.

He captured her wrist, stopping her. “Not here. I want you under me, in bed. All night.”

“Yes. God yes. I want that too.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed as she took a moment to look around. It was a nice hotel room, the king-sized bed extremely inviting.

Preston had turned on the hallway light upon entering, but now, he switched it off before turning on one of the bedside lamps. The softer lighting, as well as the moon shining in through the window, cast the room is warm shadows, creating the perfect atmosphere for what came next.

“So…” she said, a tiny bit of uncertainty creeping in. She’d been with only one man her entire life, and they’d established a definite, boring routine of undressing themselves before crawling between the sheets.