“Welcome to the Lucky Strike,” the mustachioed desk clerk sighed. He scratched his beard and let out a burp. “What can I do you for?”

Ideally, nothing, ever in my life. It was the grossest motel I had ever seen, but it was the first one we came across, and beggars could not be choosers. Especially beggars that had escaped a potentially serious crash by my fast foot and some damn good luck.

“Two rooms, please,” I said loudly, before Dash got any ideas.

The clerk scratched again. “Fifty each.”

“We can only stay a few hours,” I told Dash as he handed me a room key.

He had insisted on paying, and even though I hated the idea that it might be charity, I was too tired to argue. Besides, if it was just me, I probably would have slept in the car and possibly gotten murdered by ax-wielding psychopaths, which I assumed happened every time a young woman stopped along the highway.

We reached our rooms, which were right next to each other. The whole motel gave off a really creepy vibe, with flickering lights in the hallways and what I hoped were water stains along the carpet. It became immediately clear that the walls were paper-thin, because I could hear the television in the room across the hall. Since it was nearly five a.m., I really didn’t want to know the kind of person who had ended up in this hotel and felt the need to watch TV this early in the morning.

“I’ll knock on your door at eight a.m.,” I said to Dash, who visibly winced at the early hour.

“That’s not enough time to rest,” he told me.

“Sure it is,” I responded. “Three hours is the perfect power-nap time. Trust me, I’ve done it before.”

He gave me a look that said that he definitely did not trust me, but he should have, because I was right. Three hours was more than enough for me—I’d had plenty of times in college where I was balancing three jobs and school and had to survive on that amount of sleep.

“Sleep well,” Dash told me, and we both disappeared into our rooms.

The inside was no better than the outside. Knowing that I really couldn’t trust the bedspread at this place, I immediately stripped it off, hoping that they at least washed the sheets on a regular basis. Even if they were a little gross, it wasn’t anything that a hot, hot shower in the morning wouldn’t fix. I’d slept at some pretty questionable places all over the world, but this one was definitely in the top five.

It didn’t matter. I just needed a quick nap, so I changed out of the clothes I had been traveling in for the past twelve hours and put on a mismatched cami and boy-short set and crawled under the sheets.

I had just closed my eyes when a loud BOOM shook the room. I leapt out of bed. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

My heart pounding, I realized it was coming from the other side of the wall—not the one I shared with Dash, but another room. Someone was banging on the wall.

Wait, was that a scream?

I sat there, shaking. What the hell was going on? Was someone getting jiggy—or being decapitated by the aforementioned ax-wielding maniac?

Then there came another sound—and I jumped—before realizing that it was someone knocking on my door. My heart stopped.

Was it the psycho?

Had he come for me too?

I nervously inched closer and checked the peephole. Dash was standing outside, his arms filled with vending machine snacks.

I threw the door open and nearly tackled him with a hug. He stumbled back a little, but recovered instantly, hugging me back.

“What did I do to deserve that?” he asked, his voice close to my ear.

It was then that I realized a) how little I was wearing, b) how closely we were pressed together and c) how we really didn’t know each other at all. Immediately I extracted myself from his grip and stepped back, my arms crossed over my body. It wasn’t that I was self-conscious about the way I looked, it was just that I was nearly naked and he was fully dressed.

A damn shame that was.

“I brought snacks.” He held up his bounty. “Thought you might want to eat something before going to sleep.”

“Come in,” I told him, grabbing a sweatshirt from my suitcase and yanking it over my head and down my body. My legs were still mostly bare, but at least Dash wouldn’t be able to see my nipples, which were incredibly happy to see him.

Dash dumped the junk food on the bed and knelt down in front of the TV, where he uncovered a mini-bar in the TV stand.

“Hmm,” he said, his head in the fridge. “Not a lot of options.”

I heard the clink of glasses as he rooted around and came up with a few dusty-looking bottles of vodka. Not my drink of choice, but suddenly, I was more than eager for a stiff one.

A stiff drink, that is.

Though, I couldn’t help the way my eyes swept over Dash’s body. This was really the first time I’d gotten a good look at him when we weren’t shoved together in an airplane or sitting in a car. And there was a lot to look at.

I liked that he was tall. And broad. And clearly in very, very good shape. Through his tight T-shirt, I could see the muscles in his back flexing as he tossed the tiny vodka bottles on the bed with the snacks. I could also see the way his biceps strained against that same shirt. Everything he wore was practically molded to his body, something I appreciated on behalf of all of womankind. As he stood, I got a great look at the way his jeans cupped his rather fine ass.

And he got a great look at me staring at his rather fine ass, as was indicated when I looked up and realized he had noticed my observations. My face got hot, but I refused to let him see my embarrassment, so I lifted my chin and settled myself on the bed, sorting through the food he had brought. “A veritable cornucopia of vending machine delights,” I quipped.

“Five star all the way, baby.”

He sat down across from me and went straight for the booze, opening one of the bottles and downing it like a shot. I decided on a bag of M&Ms—peanut—and ripped it open, pouring the whole thing into my hand. A few overflowed, and Dash grabbed one that rolled across the sheets. Tossing it up in the air, he caught it in his mouth.

“Show-off,” I told him.

He grinned at me and did it again. I rolled my eyes, and then, unable to help myself, tossed one of my own M&Ms up in the air—making sure it went higher than his—and caught it with my mouth.

“Now who’s the show-off?” he teased.

I popped some more candy into my mouth. As I did, I realized exactly how hungry I had been. The M&Ms were gone quickly, and I moved on to the other options, snacking on some Skittles and Kit-Kats. Dash polished off another bottle of vodka and then opened up a bag of chips, while I finished off the remaining bottle of booze. I felt myself relaxing, truly relaxing, for the first time since I had left London.

As the alcohol warmed me up, I couldn’t stop looking at Dash. That thick, dark hair that I had noticed on the plane was still tousled charmingly, but it was clear from this distance that it wasn’t the result of styling or product. It was all him. And it looked quite touchable. A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, and emboldened by the vodka, I reached over and pushed it back for him.

He stilled as my fingers brushed his forehead. When his eyes met mine, all the cockiness and teasing was gone. His face was serious. Intense. Hot.

His gaze dropped down to my lips, and without thinking, I licked them. Dash let out a sexy, low groan.

My entire body felt warm and tingly, heat pooling between my legs, my nipples taut against my shirt. It had been a long damn time since I’d had a guy look at me the way Dash was, and it felt really, really good. For a moment I hesitated, reminding myself that he was basically a stranger.

But maybe it was better that way. I wasn’t looking for anything serious—not when I was just about to start a job that was going to occupy my entire life for several months—and I was pretty sure Dash didn’t even really know what a relationship looked like. Perhaps this was just what I needed. A night of hot, unbridled passion with someone I never had to see again. With someone who was incredibly hot. And apparently hot for me.

“Penny for them?”

I blinked. Dash was still staring at me, and I could tell he was waiting for me to make the first move. I found that unbearably sexy, and I made a decision. I was going to throw caution to the wind. I was going to enjoy myself and take a risk. Without a word, I reached for the hem of my sweatshirt, and pulled the whole thing up over my head and tossed it aside. Dash’s eyes widened, and I smiled.

“Just getting comfortable.” Then, in my mismatched cami and boy shorts, I reached across the bed, hooked my hand around the back of his neck and drew his lips to mine.

I felt his surprise as I kissed him. But his surprise lasted barely a second before he was kissing me back, his hands coming up to tangle in my hair, tilting my head so he could deepen the kiss.

The moment his tongue touched mine, I felt like I had gone up in flames. His kiss was so hot. His lips were warm and firm against mine, as he took total control, his fingers tightening in my hair. My own hands slid down his muscular chest and I fisted my fingers in his shirt and pulled him closer. I could feel him smiling against my lips as he cupped my head, his tongue tangling with mine.

He tasted like vodka and chocolate. I wanted more.

Everything that had happened that day—the cramped, nausea-inducing plane ride, the hellish crowd of unruly passengers at the airport, the harrowing car ride in the rain and near miss with Bambi—seemed to fade away. All I knew was Dash. Dash’s hands, his body, his mouth.

And I wanted it all. I needed it.

I didn’t even care that a few hours ago I had found him too cocky and too confident. Because right now, oh damn, cocky and confident was working for me. It was really, really working for me.

The man knew how to kiss. And I was happy to follow his lead, his tongue teasing mine, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip, his thumbs tracing the length of my jaw. Still, it wasn’t enough. Lifting up on my knees, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He responded with enthusiasm, dragging me onto his lap so I was straddling him. It was then I realized that he had good reason to be cocky. And I could feel that reason—hard and long—pressing against me in the most delicious way.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, with my tiny shorts and his jeans as the only barrier between us. Still, it was too much, and already I was eager to remove some of the layers that kept us from being completely skin to skin.

It was clear Dash felt the same way as his hands left my face and settled on my waist, one of them skating up and under my shirt. His fingertips dragged against my spine and I shivered, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. I arched my hips against his, and reveled in the rumble of his groan. He tore his lips from mine, his gaze practically burning my skin. We were both breathing hard, but I was nowhere near satisfied. My greedy hands grabbed at his shirt, trying to get it up and over his head. He shot me a grin and, reaching back, pulled it off in one swift movement.

Holy. Shit.

Dash was built. Built like I’d never seen before in real life. Built like Henry Cavill and Tom Hardy combined. And right now, he was all mine. To do with whatever I pleased. What I pleased was to lick him from neck to belly button. And go from there.

My fingers skimmed over his pecs, the rock-hard muscles tensing and relaxing as I touched him. His skin was smooth and hot, and I pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and then his chest. Before I could go any lower, Dash stopped me.

And his hands went to the hem of my shirt.

He paused, his eyes catching mine. I could see the question in his gaze, and it made me even hotter. My chest heaving, I nodded, and lifted my arms so he could remove my cami. He tossed it aside, never looking away, his eyes fixated on mine. Considering that most guys seemed to stare at boobs the moment they were uncovered, I found the extended eye contact extremely sexy. Especially because I knew that I wasn’t especially gifted in the boob department.

I didn’t have a problem with my body—I had the lean frame that most girls spent hours at the gym working towards—but in exchange, I was lacking in other curves. Still, I found myself holding my breath as Dash’s gaze finally left mine and headed downward. No doubt, a guy like him had the opportunity to sleep with models and actresses. Or sexy blonde stewardesses that were definitely bustier than I was.

But all I saw in Dash’s expression was desire as he looked at me, sitting topless on his lap, my legs still wrapped around him.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “You’re gorgeous.”

His hands skimmed up my ribs, stopping just beneath my chest. I felt my breath hitch as his thumbs gently stroked the smooth curve of my breasts. My nipples were rock-hard and begging for attention, but Dash took his time.

When he finally drew his fingers across the taut peaks, I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. He glanced up at me, that cocky smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

“More?” he asked.

“Yes,” I practically panted.

Then he lowered his mouth to my breast. My head fell back as his tongue and teeth teased me, his other hand pressed to the small of my back, encouraging me to arch towards him. I needed very little encouragement, and I tangled my fingers in that thick, sexy hair that I had been dying to get my hands on ever since I saw it.

It was silky between my fingers, the sensation of it, warring with the incredible feeling of Dash’s mouth on my nipples as he alternated between my breasts, lavishing each with his undivided attention.

And it still wasn’t enough. His hand slid further downward, beneath my boy shorts, cupping my bare ass and bringing me more firmly against him. I gasped, loving the way he felt. Wanting more.

But just as my own fingers began to make their way down his chest, heading for the button of his jeans, I felt something vibrate beneath my thigh.

Dash lifted his head, a sheepishly sexy smile on his face.

“I wish I could say that’s because I’m happy to see you, but—” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Looking at the number, his forehead wrinkled with a small frown. “Dammit.” He looked up at me, his expression apologetic. “I need to get this.”

I slid off his lap, trying not to feel disappointed. Horny was OK, as we had been interrupted just as things were getting really good, and I could tell Dash felt the same way from the way his cock was straining against the fly of his jeans. I bit my lip, hoping that whoever was on the phone wouldn’t need to be on it for long.

Until then, I felt weird sitting on the bed topless, so I grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled it back over my head.

“Uh huh,” Dash was saying. He glanced back at me and I could see his own disappointment in realizing I had covered myself again. That made me feel a little better. “They’re ready now?” he asked, his eyebrows going up. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He blew out a breath. “Give me ten minutes, OK?”

That didn’t sound promising at all.

He hung up and faced me, his expression apologetic.

“I really, really hate to do this, but I have to go.”

“Go?” I wasn’t sure I understood. We were in Pittsburgh early in the morning. We already had a rental car in the parking lot—what did he mean, “go”?

He pulled the rental car keys out of his pocket and handed them to me.

“It’s all paid for,” he said. “Just don’t hit any deer on your way to New York.”

“Um, OK.” I stared at the keys in the palm of my hand.

Dash sat down next to me on the bed, capturing my face in his hands.

“This was fun,” he told me, his eyes twinkling.

“That it was,” I responded, trying to keep my voice casual, even as my body was crying out for more. Guys got blue balls, but what was it when women were left unsatisfied? Blue ovaries? Blue nipples? Whatever it was, I was feeling it. Badly.

“I’d love to get your number,” he said. “In case you want to get together for more fun sometime in the future.”

I was highly doubtful that an opportunity like this would ever present itself again, but I wrote down my number anyways and gave it to him.

“Thanks.” He gave me that devastating grin of his and kissed me long and hard.

It took everything I had not to pull him down on top of me and take advantage of those ten minutes he asked the person on the phone for. But instead, I let him go, watched him put on a shirt, and even gave him a little wave when he left.

As soon as the door shut, I let out a loud sigh of frustration and flopped back on the bed. I was just about to crawl back under the covers when I heard a strange, loud flapping noise.

Whap whap whap whap whap whap whap.

Getting up, I peered out the grimy, dusty shades on the window. There was a helicopter in the field just outside the hotel. What the fuck? Who lands a helicopter in a field in Pittsburgh? Then I saw someone walking towards it, a bag slung over his broad shoulders. Dash.

Dash had a helicopter?

With wide eyes, I watched him duck under the spinning rotor blades and climb in. Like James Bond. Only hotter. Within moments, the helicopter was lifting off, and I watched from my crappy hotel room as the hottest guy I’d ever had the pleasure of making out with literally flew away.