Oh my God!

I don’t know what the heck happened, it’s like I was taken over by my evil alter ego, or something.

One minute we were listing each other’s attributes, and the next I was propositioning him. It was totally, utterly, unlike me. But… I was so caught up in the night, that when he said I’d eventually find a guy like Reardon or Gabe, I just had to tell him. I love Reardon and Gabe, but the only guy I wanted to be with was him.

It was a leap of faith, definitely fueled on by liquid courage and a beautiful night out in Chicago with the man of my dreams, but I’d realized, it was now or never.

So, I pulled out my inner vixen once again, and asked him flat out. Who knew she was so powerful, or so able to get me what I wanted.

Maybe I should call on her more often…

While we rode the elevator up to Dillon’s room, I chose his, I fought back the panic attack that was threatening to level me.

You’ve got this. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend the weekend with Dillon, in the way you’ve always wanted to spend it. Don’t chicken out.

“You okay?” Dillon asked, taking my hand in his and pulling me out of my head and into the moment.

I took a deep breath and brought my gaze to his handsome face. He was watching me with a small smile, but his eyes conveyed his concern.

Snap out of it, I ordered myself. Do not give him a reason to change his mind.

I lowered my lashes, then looked up at him with what I hoped was a coy smile. “Yes, perfect.”

Dillon’s thumb caressed my palm, then moved on to my wrist. That small, seemingly innocent touch was enough to make my knees weaken. My pulse began to race and the elevator started to feel really, really warm. Like, sauna warm.

I heard what sounded like a purr, and when Dillon grinned, I realized the sound came from me.

Get a grip, I urged myself.

It seemed like I was hell bent in cock-blocking myself. First, by being a nervous nelly, and then by being a weird psycho who purrs when touched.

I cleared my throat and tried to mask my awkwardness by asking, “How about you, are you okay?”

“Never better,” he replied, and then it happened.

One second I was getting good hand, and then next, I was pressed up against the elevator wall with Dillon’s lips on mine. The purr turned into a moan as I opened for him, utterly swept away by not only the sensations brought on by his kiss, but by the fact that this was what I’d been waiting for … our first kiss.

Not wanting to just be kissed, but be an active participant, I threw my arms around him with enough force to turn the tables and press him against the wall. Dillon didn’t seem to mind my taking over; in fact, one hand came to my ass, while the other held the back of my head, keeping me in place and pressing me closer.

I lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist, then sifted one hand through his hair as I slanted my mouth to deepen the kiss.

This time, Dillon was the one groaning as I bit his lower lip and rubbed against his hard length.

Bing.

That one, tiny sound had me jumping back, reminding me of our surroundings.

Oh my God, I can’t believe I just did that, seemed to be my theme of the night. My hand flew to my lips, covering their plump redness as if trying to hold his kisses in as long as possible. Dillon watched me with a wolfish grin, then lifted his hand to indicate that we should get out of the elevator.

I took a deep breath, dropped my hand, and tried to muster up some nonchalance as I walked out into the hallway. I paused, so that he could lead me to his room, then stood there like a statue as he walked to the nearest door and inserted his key card.

Dillon opened the door, then turned to me and asked, “Are you coming?”

I chewed my lower lip nervously before a flash of our kiss hit me and I nodded, then rushed past him and into the room.

I stood just inside, looking around without comprehending what I was seeing.

When the door shut with a click, I looked over my shoulder at Dillon and asked, “What’s all this?”

“I called ahead,” he replied, unbuttoning his suit coat and sliding it off his shoulders.

My gaze slid back and my heart began to swell dangerously.

There was a bottle of red wine on the table, with two crystal glasses, and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. The bed had been turned down, the lights were low, and Jazz was playing softly.

It was a total seduction scene.

I turned fully to face Dillon, almost unable to comprehend that he’d set all of this up for me, for us.

Because, although we’d agreed it would only be for the weekend, nothing more than a fling, he cared enough to make me feel special. That meant more to me than anything. I had no idea how to convey this to him, to let him know how wonderful he was.

So, I guessed I’d just have to show, not tell.