by Zoe York
Astrid turned pink. Okay, not harsh. But no, he didn't, and good Lord, she couldn't answer that.
She settled for, He doesn't glower at me in general.
Simone sent back a thumbs up and another emoji that was vaguely dirty.
That exchange was on her mind when she headed to Dylan's villa an hour later.
And he knew it, because he could read her like a book. As soon as he welcomed her into the space, he was searching her face. "What is it?"
She shook her head and laughed. "How do you know?"
"I'm not sure, but I do, so spill."
"Simone's dating again, apparently. And when she texted me if that was weird—and I told her it wasn't—I also told her about you."
"Ah." He gave her an easy smile. "Cool."
"Yeah? I wasn't sure if I'd overstepped."
"What do you mean?"
"Because it's just a fling."
His jaw tightened and he glanced away. "Gotcha."
So much for easy. A worry formed, small and hard and impossible to ignore, low in her gut.
"Should I not think about it…like that?" Man, that took a lot of guts to ask, an Dylan didn't look at her, so he was hard to read.
He shrugged. “I don't know.”
If he didn't know, she wasn't going to push him. “We don't need to make this more complicated than it is.”
“Why not?”
Why not make it more complicated? Because he was larger-than-life hot and she was just an ordinary girl. She was smart enough to know that wasn’t the whole truth, but it was part of it, and him not looking at her didn't do anything to minimize that fear.
"So what do you want to do tonight?" he asked, changing the subject and the temperature in the room at the same time.
Fine. She was going to be a grown up about this, and she wasn't going to sulk because they weren't on the same page. She moved closer to him and softened her voice. “Let’s have one last amazing night. We’ll say goodbye in the morning, knowing that we made each other’s week that much better. That we have a connection that turned us into friends.”
His jaw flexed. “You want to be friends.”
“Aren’t we?”
He gave a hard nod. “Yeah. I guess we are.”
“You’re mad.” She should have noticed sooner. "Dylan, just—"
"I'm not mad," he said with a sigh, reaching for her and pulling her hard against his chest. “I'm easy. Tonight, pretty girl, we’re going to have the best night of our lives.”
* * *
There was a part of Dylan that was pretty sure he was being a total idiot. But it wasn’t in his nature to accept defeat. When he faced an obstacle, he figured out a way around it.
Astrid didn’t see them as having a future.
Astrid, who mad his scowl disappear and his heart feel strangely and delightfully light, although not at the moment. He had to tamp down a lot of decidedly un-light feelings to make this moment and tonight good for her.
She deserved that, even if she was ready to say goodbye.
Because he was rapidly falling for her, and she didn't owe him the same.
But oh, how he wanted her to feel the same things, and maybe he was partially to blame for the fact she didn't…yet. He'd talked about their week as an easy, breezy affair. That was on him.
Now he had one night.
One night to seduce Astrid. Not her body, but her heart.
Astrid with the slim, capable fingers, who drew pictures that came to life on the page.
The girl with the blond curls and the softer-than-silk skin he’d only just begun to memorize.
That he never wanted to stop memorizing, if he was being a stupid romantic.
Which brought him full circle to the question, was he sure he wasn’t being an idiot? But yeah, he was sure. Sure that Astrid was the one for him, unexpectedly, and sure he could find a way to show her how he felt.
A sincere gesture that would scream give me a chance. Or at the very least give her a night that would make it hard to forget him, so she’d give him that chance when they got back to California.
Either way, he wouldn’t give up. He knew that without a doubt. It wasn’t the SEAL way, and it wasn’t the way of a man in love, either.
Astrid deserved someone who would fight for her with confidence and commitment.
Chapter Eleven
She didn't get another chance to apologize or try again at the conversation they should have had. Dylan kissed her and made her promise not to think about anything other than the next few hours. He took her to the nicest restaurant at the resort, and after they ate an incredible meal, they headed down to the harbour, where an evening cruise was just about to set off.
He laced his fingers through hers and tugged her aboard the yacht.
"Don't we need tickets?" she whispered, and he just shrugged, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Maybe. Or maybe…" he pulled her into his arms and spun her around. "We look like we belong and nobody will notice."
Champagne was flowing, and he tipped the first waiter that came around, so it kept flowing as the music got cranked up. They danced for more than two hours, to fun, fast songs and then slow, sweet songs that turned bittersweet when he kissed her.
Their last night together.
What had she been thinking? Saying goodbye was going to be too hard. It hurt her chest just to think about it.
"Astrid," Dylan whispered, and she glanced up from where she was resting her cheek against his chest, expecting censure for letting her thoughts grow dark, but he was pointing past the railing. They'd sailed around a few islands, and stopped at the mouth of a protected inlet.
Now she followed his pointing finger and gasped.
The water was glowing. It looked like a blue comet under the surface of the water.
"It's called bioluminescence," he whispered.
She nodded. "I've heard of it. Fishing are bumping up against plant life, right?"
"Yep."
"It's amazing."
His arms tightened around her waist as he held her, and they stood there, watching, until the blue faded. The school of fish had moved on.
"Another dance?" he asked, but she shook her head.
Instead, she took his hand and led him down the deck to the quieter space up front. He sat on a bench built into a nook, pressing his back to the side and stretching his leg out along the bench.
She climbed right up into his lap, sitting sideways across his body as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Aw, Astrid, no…"
It wasn't until he protested that she realized she'd started crying. She sniffled her tears back, because this was silly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He groaned. "We've bungled this a bit, haven’t we?"
She nodded. "I can't say goodbye tomorrow."
"What makes you think I can?"
"We said—"
"We said a lot of things, some of them silly. And I think there's some things that maybe we didn't say, too. Am I right?"
"I didn't want you to think I have any expectations," she whispered.
He laughed and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, wiping away her tears. "Expect anything and everything you want from me. Have sky-high expectations, Astrid. I'm going to do everything in my power to meet them. Hell, surpass them. I want to worship you."
Her breath caught in her chest as he shifted her around so she was straddling him now, and he leaned forward so his face was more visible in the lights strung around the side of the yacht.
"Is that clear?"
She nodded dumbly.
"I'm crazy about you. And when we get home, I want to date you. I want to go steady. I want to hold your hand at the movies and invite you to my place for sleepovers."
That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. "Hold my hand at the movies?"
Another nod, slower now, his gaze locked on hers.
"And sleepovers?"
"I don't want to be Garrett and Simone. I
don't want to rush anything, but…" He captured his lower lip between his teeth and a slight red stained his cheeks.
"What is it?"
"Promise you won't run screaming?"
A happy, bubbling laugh started low in her belly. "I promise."
"You see me. You get me. You look at me and I think…she's the one."
Oh. Astrid's laugh caught in her throat and something else, something hotter and more desperate, swarmed up and around the happy feeling. It was happy, too, but also scary and intense.
"You're not running away," he said quietly, closer, as he curved over her, tugging her tighter across his hips. Between her legs, he was hard for her, and it took all of her willpower not to shamelessly rock against him.
She shook her head. "I'm not."
"We'll be smart about this," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers. "We'll go slow."
Yes. Slow. That's what they needed to do. Because oh sweet mercy, Dylan couldn't think she was the one for him. That didn't make any sense and she wasn't that lucky.
* * *
He had her in his arms, but she was still staring at him in disbelief.
He'd have to show her just how serious he was. He lifted his hips, pressing his arousal against her core.
"That's not slow," she whispered, her eyes brightening.
"I'll be the slowest," he promised, heady lust boiling up inside him. "Come here."
She leaned forward hesitantly, but she didn't stop, and when her lips brushed against his, he took over. She tasted like champagne, and a little like worry. Underneath both, she was sweet and soft, and he'd never get enough.
"I want you," he said gruffly, his chest tight as all the feelings inside pushed hard, trying to get out. "I want the way you make me goofy and I want the way you make me hard. Your laughter and your silky soft skin. I want every last inch of you, do you get that?"
"I'm starting to." She stroked his cheek, her fingertips lingering on his jaw. "I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier."
"You did." He twisted his head and kissed her wrist. "You asked me what was wrong. I dodged the question. I won't do that next time."
"Takes a lot of trust to show someone what's really in your heart," she whispered.
"Show me," he urged. He wanted it all. He wanted to hold her secrets and keep them safe.
"Not here." She clenched her thighs on either side of his hips. "As hot as you are…"
"No." He agreed. He'd never embarrass her, and he knew nobody could see them, but they'd just started sharing big stuff. If they tumbled any further down that path, he didn't want anyone else around. "But tonight…"
She nodded and leaned into him. "Definitely tonight."
* * *
The yacht couldn't get back to the harbour fast enough for Dylan. As soon as they docked, he swept Astrid onto his back and piggybacked her out of the marina and down the path to his villa.
She was giggling when he finally set her down and pressed her against the door. "I think a lot of people back there got a view up my skirt," she whispered, and he growled.
"Damn it. I'm the only one who should get that view," he said, rubbing his thumb over the sweet swell of her bottom lip.
She turned pink.
"Too possessive?" he asked, but really, it wasn't like he could tamp down that reaction. He wanted her to be his.
She shook her head. "No."
"I want to kiss you again." His voice cracked. "Then I want to carry you inside and make love to you. Wild, kinky, screaming kind of love. And when we wake up tomorrow, I want to ask you out on a date for when we get home. All of that okay with you?"
She nodded slowly, and that was the end of any discussion on the matter.
He cupped her face, her cheeks like silk under his fingers, and her eyes fluttered shut as he slanted his head over hers and carefully and thoroughly showed her with his mouth just how much he liked her.
He showed her with his hands, too, first in her hair, then lower as he traced her limbs and her body, he squeezed her waist and then her hips. Her curves destroyed him. He'd never get enough of the fullness of her bottom under his palm and the sweet press of her thighs around his leg as he closed the gap between their bodies.
She kissed him back, her tongue sliding against his in a way that sent jolts of awareness straight to his balls with each little lick.
And when he kissed down her neck and she tipped her head back and groaned his name?
Game over.
He got them inside, then they were kissing again. First against one wall before she climbed up his body and he twisted, bouncing them off the other wall. She was pulling at his shirt and he had his hands up her skirt.
They needed to be naked, stat.
He forced her off him as she giggled, but she stopped laughing when he peeled off his shirt. He flexed for her as she reached for his bare chest.
"Dylan…"
"Tell me you want me," he growled. "Like I want you."
"So much," she breathed. "I want you because you're tall, and dirty, and funny, but also because you're kind." She pressed her hand against his pecs and looked up at him. "Do you know that? Do you know that you're a nice guy?"
He shook his head. "Not usually."
"Lies," she said, smiling. "Your heart is beating fast."
"Yeah."
"You want me," she whispered, her eyes wide.
"So much."
"I'm yours."
"Thank goodness." He dropped his shorts, and paced toward her. She twisted away from him and ran, and he chased her. They were both laughing and this felt so good, so right, then when he pounced on top of her on the bed, he just held himself there for a moment, grinning down at her.
"Dork," he whispered.
"Goof," she breathed right back.
He kissed his way down her body, sucking on her nipples until she arched her back, then he buried his face in the softness of her belly before hitching her legs over his shoulders so he could make her come on his tongue.
No mission had ever been so important.
Two orgasms, every time. At a bare minimum. He was going to keep this woman screaming for the rest of her life, he realized with a blinding awareness.
He loved her.
She saw him, she liked him, just as he was, and that was it. She was the one.
Apparently his heart didn't believe in slow. He'd waited three decades for the damn thing to wake up, and now it was raring to go.
But those words would have to wait. For now, his heart would have to be content with the way she moved against his touch, the way she whimpered for him to get inside her.
"Come for me, first," he urged, stroking her folds as he licked her clit. She was wet for him, and when he circled her entrance, his fingers easily nudged inside.
She groaned and he eased into her, finding the spot with his crooked finger that would—
Her legs clamped around his head. He'd have grinned if he wasn't busy licking her through the surprise orgasm that had seized her body.
When she collapsed back against bed, she was covering her face with her hands, and he climbed up after her, peeling her fingers away.
"Hey, pretty girl…" He grinned at her. "Good?"
"Oh my God."
"Excellent."
"Did I hurt you?" she swallowed hard as she gave him a concerned look.
He just laughed. "You made my cock pretty damn hard, does that count?"
She bit her lip, and he quickly sheathed himself with a condom.
"Feel this?" he asked coarsely as he rubbed his erection against her sex. "Feel how hard I am?"
Her gaze softened again, went glassy, and she nodded. "You feel good."
"Right back at you, sexy girl."
"Pretty girl…ah…" Her breath hitched as he rocked his hips, beginning a slow, delicious press into her. "Sexy girl…You know all the right things to say to me…"
"All true."
"I…" She sighed and reached for him, tugging him into her. She smiled
and lifted her head, offering him her mouth.
He wanted whatever words were at the end of that sigh, but he felt them in the kiss.
Yeah, pretty girl. Me, too.
Together they found their rhythm, slow and steady. She was soft and snug around him, and it felt unbelievable to sink into her and hear her moan for him. Being inside Astrid did something to him, deep down. It stripped away everything and rendered him a primal, hungry, claiming man.
He was in no rush. He wanted to imprint her scent on his body, and his on hers. He wanted her muscles to ache from holding him, ache until she was holding him again, so it would feel like coming home.
That probably made him not nice. He should warn her he was selfish on all things Astrid.
"How does this feel so good?" she whispered, and he found her fingers with his own.
He squeezed her hand as he surged into her. "Yeah…"
"Go slower…" Her lips parted and she tipped her head back. "Yes. There. Oh…Dylan."
Each breathy word made him thicker, harder, and twisted him inside, too, messing with his head. Take her, his lizard brain whispered. Make her yours.
"Say my name again," he said roughly, pumping his hips faster.
She was shaking beneath him now, but her gaze was warm and all for him. "Dylan."
"You're mine," he whispered as his body took over, the rhythm breaking up as he sprinted now, trying to stay ahead of the climax licking at his heels. The coil had started deep inside him, and all the possessive thoughts weren't helping. He wanted to come inside her, mark her as his woman, but first he needed her to get there. And the way she was looking at him chipped away at his filter until he was whispering a stream of broken filth that would make them both blush as soon as they reached the peak just ahead of them.
"I'm yours," she said, her breath hitching as he lifted her knee and changed his angle. "Oh, yes…"
"Show me. I want to see your face when you get there." He shifted his hands so he could get his fingers into her hair, and then he hovered his face right above hers, watching her expression shift as deep inside she tightened around him. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and then she cried out for him, his name on her lips.
