Dashing: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Unleashed Romance, Book 2)

by Kylie Gilmore

And then he stops, no action down below. I tear my mouth away to protest. He backs me up, guiding me toward the sofa.

  He barks out an order for Tank to go to his bed.

  I smile as Tank obeys, flopping down on his bed. “If you order me to bed, I’ll go.”

  He gives me a little push, and I land on the sofa. “Here will do.”

  I peel off my halter top, which was just hanging around my waist, and toss it to the side. I’m pretty confident this is the right time to strip. I reach for his shirt, but he pushes me back, goes to his knees, and runs his hands along the outside of my bare thighs. He pushes my skirt up out of the way, and then his fingers hook in the thin waistband of my panties, and he slides them off.

  “Spread your legs,” Adam murmurs.

  I comply, shivering in anticipation. He grabs my hips and pulls me forward. And then he tastes me. My hips jerk, the intimate sensation shockingly intense.

  “Relax,” he murmurs, looking up at me from between my legs. “I’ll take good care of you.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “I know. It’s just—” I suck in air as his mouth returns, kissing and tasting me. He’s gentle, letting me get used to him. A warm tingly glow flows over my entire body, and I relax.

  I close my eyes, floating in sensation. His finger traces my opening, and I tense, anticipating pain when he enters me. This is why I never let it get this far. I never trusted the guy to hold back when I needed it. But he doesn’t do anything more, merely tracing me, shifting away and back, away and back, his mouth working magic.

  I open my eyes, his dark head between my legs sending another riot of sensation through me. His mouth becomes more insistent, drawing me toward something darker, deeper. Everything inside me coils tight. I’m panting, my hips rocking mindlessly, fever hot. The orgasm rips through me like a tidal wave, threatening to take me under. I buck helplessly under him, shuddering with the rush of pleasure.

  “Omigod, that was…” I gasp and let out a soft keening cry, my head tipping back as he keeps it going, drawing more pleasure out of me, wave after wave until I go limp. I try to catch my breath. I’ve definitely been missing out on this before. I never knew it could be like that. My own efforts pale in comparison.

  I let him dress me, too spent to move. He slides my panties back in place, fixes my skirt, and then pulls my halter top back over my head, lifting me to straighten it and tying the knot behind my neck.

  I’m still tingling all over—my lips, my cheeks, my nipples, my sex. We should go to his bed. I can’t seem to speak. I feel like I’m drugged.

  He pulls me off the sofa, wrapping his arms around me. I rest my head against his chest as his hands glide up and down my back, over my bottom, my hips.

  I lift my head, a soft smile on my lips. I feel so good right now. “Adam.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to—”

  He silences me with a kiss, and I taste myself. It only excites me more. This sexy man knows me intimately. I reach for the button on his jeans. He grabs my wrists, holding them in a firm grip at my sides while his mouth plunders mine. A sharp rush of desire makes me suddenly frantic for more. I plaster myself against him, arching forward, aching for him to take.

  He breaks the kiss. “How do you feel?”

  “Amazing! Now—”

  He turns me toward the door. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

  My jaw drops. I turn back to face him. “You’re making me wait a week?”

  “I’m working weekdays, and you work Friday and Saturday night. Sunday, I’ll take you in a rowboat like you wanted.”

  I frown. I did think that was a romantic idea before, but he just opened up a whole new world for me. And even though I feel exhilarated, there’s still an ache deep inside that needs to be filled. “Adam, only you will do.”

  He groans, framing my face with his hands. “Please do this for me. Go home. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  I lick my lips. “What about you? I should reciprocate, don’t you think?” I felt his hard desire.

  “I’ll take care of that after you go.”

  “Can I—”

  His mouth covers mine, and then he’s backing me up, his kisses insistent, one after the other. Dizzying lust has me off balance. He spins me suddenly and gives my bottom a pat.

  Then he pushes me out the front door.

  I stand there for a moment, blinking against the sun, a little disoriented. A car drives by; birds chirp; a child yells in the distance. The world’s still spinning around while mine went right off its axis.

  I texted Adam to find out what he’s working on this week, and it turns out it’s a local job. That means he’ll be home a little after five. I calculated commute time from anywhere in town, allowing for the possibility that he’d want to shower and change, and here I am with Chinese food for our dinner together. It’s the day after he gave me the best orgasm of my life, of which there’s only been the self-given variety. I’ve definitely been missing out.

  And we did not agree on waiting a week to see each other. He said it; I protested. Besides, friends can hang out whenever they want, especially when one friend has just experienced the orgasm of her life from the other friend. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

  Did I wear another skirt to give him easy access? Damn right I did. Today’s outfit is a yellow blouse with cap sleeves and a blue ruffled skirt. I don’t know if it screams sexy, but it does say go ahead and lift this bit of fluffy skirt out of the way and have your wicked way with me.

  I ring the bell, and Tank sets off the alarm. Oof, oof, oof. I wiggle my fingers at him as he sticks his head under the curtain to look at me.

  The front door opens to Adam, dark hair still damp from the shower, shirtless and barefoot in jeans. My lips part, my pulse thrumming through my veins. I’ve never seen him shirtless, and he’s amazing. Wide rounded shoulders, defined pecs and abs, a smattering of chest hair leading straight down to the fly in his jeans. I need to peel those jeans off and—

  “Whatcha doing here, Kayla?”

  I meet his eyes, warm on mine. He’s happy to see me. “I brought dinner.” I hold up the bag. “Chinese food.”

  He gestures me in. “This is a surprise. I’ll go get a shirt.”

  “I think you look fantastic just as you are,” I say in a breathy voice.

  One corner of his mouth lifts before he turns and goes upstairs. I appreciate the rear view immensely.

  After he disappears to his bedroom, I find my way to the kitchen just off the dining room. Tank shuffles after me, hoping for some food. I poke around in cabinets until I find what I need to set the table. Then I pull all the take-out containers out of the bag and set them on the table too.

  He returns. “This is better than what I was going to have. Frozen dinner in front of the TV. Thanks.”

  I smile. “No problem. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got five different things.”

  He closes the distance, standing close. My heart kicks up an excited beat. He smells fresh and clean. I want to bury my face in his neck and just breathe. He holds my chin, tipping my face to his, and kisses me. I nearly sigh.

  “Sweet of you,” he says. “I’m not picky.” He moves to the cabinet, getting us two glasses and filling them with water.

  I take a seat and he sits across from me.

  I wait until he’s served himself before clearing the air. “I hope you’re okay with me just showing up here. It’s just that I had a really, really good time yesterday—” I flush hot at the memory “—and I always like spending time with you anyway because you’re you, and I—”

  “Kayla, it’s okay. We don’t have to wait a week to see each other. I was just trying not to ravish you in the living room.”

  “But I want you to ravish me in the living room and other places too. Anywhere is fine by me.”

  He stares at me for a heated moment. And then he slowly stands, intent in his eyes. A shiver of excitement races down my spine. He stalks around the table toward
me. I’m half hopeful and half afraid he’s about to kick me out. He’s been very up and down about the sex part.

  I stand, considering throwing myself in his arms in a desperate shortcut to seduction. But then I don’t need to. He pulls me against him, his mouth claiming mine. This time I don’t hesitate, roaming my hands all over him, dying to feel skin on skin. I manage to get his shirt loose from his jeans, and my hands shoot up, stroking his back and his heated chest. His kisses become more aggressive, his fingers tangling in my hair. He’s moving me, backing me up. My back hits cool wall.

  He shifts, his mouth trailing over my jaw, nipping and tasting, jolting and soothing me. I’m breathless. He moves to my throat, my collarbone, my breasts through the thin blouse, sucking my hard nipple, flooding me with pleasure. I want to reciprocate this time, my hand going to his waistband, tracing inside the edge, but then I stop, suddenly anxious that I’ll do it wrong. My inexperience embarrasses me.

  “Tell me what to do,” I say.

  He straightens, his teeth tugging my earlobe. “You don’t have to do anything,” he whispers. “Let me.”

  Before I can protest, his mouth’s on mine, his fingers making quick work of my blouse. He breaks the kiss, slides my bra straps over my shoulders, and undoes the clasp.

  “You too,” I say, yanking his shirt up. He lets me take it off, and I’m high on victory. I throw my arms around his neck, the sensation of skin on skin so delicious I rub myself shamelessly against him.

  His big hand cups my jaw, his eyes meeting mine for a charged moment before he kisses me again and again. There’s never been a kisser in the world as good as this man. My breath is ragged by the time he lifts his head.

  He drops to his knees, and I suck in air, remembering yesterday when he went to his knees. He slides my panties off and then rises in one smooth motion, his fingers gripping my hair as he kisses me aggressively, pressing my mouth open, tasting deep. My entire body goes heavy with desire, my hands clutching his shoulders for support in the storm of sensation.

  His hand slides under my skirt, and he groans when he feels how wet I am. He strokes gently up and down, and I arch my hips for more. His thumb skates over pleasure central, and I suddenly want to climb him, wrap my legs around him, and know what it’s like to be filled. I ache deeply for him. I lift my leg, wrapping it high around his hip, hoping he’ll get the message.

  He breaks the kiss to whisper in my ear, his thumb still working magic. “Relax, this is for you.”

  “I like it,” I gasp out. “But…” His thumb applies more pressure. “Adam,” I finish weakly, setting my leg down.

  He cups the back of my neck, kissing me again, deep and thorough as his thumb works me. Sensations riot through me, building faster and faster. My body bows, and then I break, his mouth swallowing my soft cries. His thumb gentles, extending the pleasure in a long, rolling wave. I whimper and go limp, leaning back against the wall, panting.

  He kisses me gently and pulls back, watching me intently.

  I stroke his scruffy cheek. “Please don’t kick me out.”

  He folds me into his arms. “I’m not going to kick you out. We didn’t even eat this awesome dinner you brought.”

  I look over his shoulder. “Uh-oh. Tank ate your dinner.” Fortunately, I hadn’t served myself yet.

  He turns to find his plate licked clean. “Tank! Outside.”

  Tank hangs his head like this is the worst punishment in the world. He prefers to stay inside. I try not to laugh. Adam puts him in the fenced-in backyard and orders him to do his business.

  I stick my panties in my purse so Adam will know I’m available after dinner too. I take a seat at the table, helping myself to dinner and reheating it in the microwave.

  Adam returns with a not-at-all contrite Tank. I wait for Adam to get himself a clean plate and more food, taking a minute to heat it up. Once he settles at the table, Tank lies at his feet, looking hopeful for scraps now that he knows how good the food is.

  I smile at Adam. “I left my panties off.”

  He drops his fork with a clatter. “Kayla.” His voice is hoarse, his eyes closed with a pained expression. “What’re you doing to me?”

  “I’ve got plans that involve full reciprocation,” I inform him.

  And then I pop up and quickly drop sideways into his lap so he knows I mean it.

  His hand cradles my jaw, his forehead pressing against mine for a moment. We share a breath and then another, and then his lips meet mine.

  More drugging kisses. I’m irresistible as a sex partner.

  His hand’s up my shirt, caressing my breast. What a relief to leave my wholesome future-wife image behind!

  I gasp as his other hand pushes my skirt out of the way. Mmm, yes, yes, YES!

  10

  Adam

  I’m playing with fire and I know it. Yet I can’t seem to help myself. No man could. Kayla stopped by every night this week to have dinner with me, and she’s so sexy, so eager to press herself against me, I give her an orgasm for her efforts. I haven’t let her return the favor because I know the moment I’m naked, I’m not going to be thinking straight anymore. It claws at me, this need. But she’s waited all this time for sex with marriage, and I can’t help but think she’s the kind of woman who needs that, whether or not she realizes it in her currently horny state.

  I care too much about her to let her have regrets.

  And some part of me knows, if I cross that line, there’s no going back. I’ll be lost in her, and then she’ll leave. I can’t risk it.

  Casual. We both agreed it’s casual.

  It’s Friday night, which means she has to work, so I stop by The Horseman Inn just to say hi. Like I said, casual. I walk into the front dining room just as she turns with used dinner plates balanced in her arms. One plate goes flying, and the ceramic shatters on the hardwood floor.

  She stares at it. “Oops! Sorry!”

  The customers at her table laugh good-naturedly. “That’s okay, honey,” the middle-aged woman says. “Happens to the best of us.”

  Her husband agrees, even standing to help.

  Kayla holds him back with a palm. “It’s okay. I’ll get this cleaned up in a minute.” Her eyes fly to mine. “Adam.”

  The blood rushes through my veins. I want to take her to a dark corner and press my mouth on hers, kiss her until she melts against me, needy mewling sounds coming from the back of her throat. “Hi.”

  Pink tinges her cheeks. “I have to clean this up.”

  “Go ahead.”

  She rushes back to the kitchen to deposit the plates she’s holding. She’s wearing the uniform of a black Horseman Inn T-shirt and black pants. Nothing remotely sexy, but I can’t help but watch the sway of her curvy hips as she passes.

  I take a seat at the crowded bar, mostly middle-aged women who are alternating knitting and drinking. Probably they hung around after Friday trivia night. Sydney mentioned she has knitting club regulars then. I order a seltzer and pot stickers. The menu’s become much more interesting with the new chef. I respect his work, even though Sydney says he’s a shameless flirt, which doesn’t make me feel great about Kayla working with him.

  Kayla rushes past me a few moments later with a broom and dustpan. Rushes back. Rushes out again with a mop. Rushes back. Quite a workout being a waitress. At least for her it is.

  My gaze tracks to her again and again as she smiles and chats with customers, occasionally dropping silverware or a straw. She’s a people person, unlike me. I like people in small quantities. Except her I can’t seem to get enough of. That’s okay, it won’t get too far. She’s been going on plenty of interviews. Any day now she’ll split for her new adventure. I’ll just be a hazy memory of one summer. A summer fling, that’s what this is. One that involves her pleasure and my aching need. It’s torture, sweet torture, but I want to give this to her. She’s new to sex, all of it. I was the first man to touch her, taste her, feel her come apart. And that’s not a small thing. She trusts me, an
d I won’t betray that trust by disappointing her with no real intention of a committed relationship. I don’t know why I’m so twisted up about this. I’m avoiding relationships, and she’s leaving. It should be perfect.

  I finish my dinner, no real excuse to hang around anymore. I’m tired from hard labor at work today, hauling large beams of wood for an addition.

  And then she’s heading straight for me, a beaming smile on her beautiful face. Warmth rushes through me, and I barely resist pulling her into my arms.

  She stops short and whispers, “I have a fifteen-minute break. Come with me.” She grabs my hand and gives it a tug.

  I know I shouldn’t. She’s just going to want more of what we do every time we see each other. It’s getting harder and harder—exactly the problem.

  “Let’s go for a walk around the lake,” I say.

  “We’ll go out the back,” she says.

  I follow her through the kitchen.

  Spencer, the new chef, grins at her. “Kayla, woman, you’d better not drop this fine T-bone I’m serving tonight.” He’s too good looking with his dark hair, blue eyes, and beard. I could grow a beard if I felt like moving beyond scruff. And I didn’t miss the innuendo in his flirty comment. Serving a T-bone. He wants to bone her.

  Kayla laughs. “I swear I won’t!” She didn’t catch the innuendo. Still an innocent to lewd guys.

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Adam,” he says with a nod.

  “Spencer,” I bite out.

  Kayla looks between us and then forges ahead through the door that leads to the back stairs up to her apartment.

  “I thought we were going for a walk,” I say, following her fine ass upstairs.

  “You’re walking, aren’t you?”

  She lets me into her apartment, which is miniscule. I’ve been up here many times before she moved in. What would be a living room is used as storage for the restaurant. She only has a bedroom and a bathroom. She has to use the kitchen downstairs.

  She slips into her bedroom.

  I tell myself to be cool. Fifteen minutes is not much time. Maybe we should talk like we’re having an actual date instead of this smokescreen we put up when all we really want to do is rip each other’s clothes off.