“How are you even here right now?”
He gets a good firm squeeze of my ass before setting me down, and says, “Well, there’s this thing with really big wings. It’s not a bird, but a—”
“Shush it and get in here.” I grab him by the shirt and pull him inside.
“I thought you’d never ask.” After picking up his duffle bag, he follows me inside and kicks the door closed behind him. Dropping the bag, he takes a look around.
I poke him. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you had another week or so before your break?”
“We have a two day break until our next show, so I’ve got twenty-four hours with you.”
My eyes go wide and my mouth drops open again in shock. “You flew back for twenty-four hours?”
“No.” He pauses, shaking his head and then looks at me, really looks at me, and says, “I flew back for you. But I wouldn’t have cared if I only had two. I wanted to see you.” Glancing over his shoulder toward the door, he signals with his thumb. “I can go if you want.”
“I don’t want you to go,” I say, taking his arms. I pull him close, anchoring him to me.
Looking me straight in the eyes, he asks, “What do you want then?”
“You.” I move to him, closing the gap, and kiss him. His breath is minty, his body hard, making me want more than politeness allows since he just got here. Screw etiquette! This man makes me want him in very un-ladylike ways, so why pretend. Surprising him, I push him back, but continue fisting his shirt.
“What?” he asks.
“Get your ass upstairs. It’s time I show you just how much I really missed you.” I dash upstairs, and by the commotion–his heavy steps following close behind me—he’s just as anxious as I am.
Once we’re in the bedroom, we hurry to undress. A mischievous look colors his expression as he unabashedly checks me out head-to-toe. I climb onto the bed and roll onto my back, tempting him to come to me by calling him to me with my finger and a slight parting of my knees.
With a lick of his lips, a look of lust appears. “It’s so fucking sexy that you weren’t wearing panties. Might make me jealous though when I’m not with you.” After pulling his boxers down, he climbs onto the bed and hovers over me. “Tell me what a good girl you are when I’m not around.”
My breaths deepen. The feel of his warm skin against mine, teases, making me crave him even more. “I’m so good.”
“How bad are you gonna be now that I’m here?”
Watching him ready himself with a condom, I’m anxious to feel him inside me again. “Fuck me, Dalton,” I say with a breathy whisper.
“God, you’ve got a dirty mouth sometimes. So fucking hot.” His lips cover mine as he spreads my legs further apart. He leans down to my ear, and whispers, “Now show me how much you missed me, Angel.”
I gasp as he thrusts forward. I close my eyes as my back arches up, driving him for more. We both push and pull, taking and giving until our bodies are tired and gratified, trying to catch our breath.
The noon sun streams in through the sheers. My eyes are heavy, my body weighted to the bed in exhaustion, but I can’t take my eyes off of him, still astonished he’s here and even more so that he’s here just for me.
“Is the sex that good?” I whisper with a smile.
“I didn’t come here for ‘the sex’ but the sex is pretty damn awesome.” He rolls over to face me. “Wait, let me clarify that. I did come for sex, definitely hoped to get laid, but I knew there was no guarantee of it.” With a sweet smile, he asks, “How do you like your surprise?”
“Best surprise ever.” Running my finger down the defined muscles of his arm, I say, “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“It wasn’t a selfless gesture by any means, Holliday.” He closes his eyes, looking like he could fall asleep, but he reopens them and says, “I’ve been in this business long enough to know how things play out, but you, you might just be a game changer.”
I snuggle closer, resting my head in the nook of his arm, running my fingertips over his other bicep. “You’re supposed to be player. Now what use does the infamous Johnny Outlaw have with a simple girl back in L.A.?”
He chuckles lowly, his breath hitting the top of my head. “Johnny Outlaw is all image stuff. Who I am for real is the Jack Dalton I’m giving you. As for a simple girl from L.A… there is absolutely nothing simple about her. Everything about her screams complicated with strings attached.” He whispers, “And she completely fascinates me.” He kisses my cheek. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, who was that guy back in Vegas?”