Page 70 of The Rules

He found the rhythm of the music immediately, keeping it through every turn they took. It surprised her not one iota. There are certain things you can tell about a person by the way they carry themselves, the places that their eyes linger. Dylan had her movements mapped out before she made them. It was intimate, erotic, this way he moved against her. The bass thumped in her ears and she flattened her palm on his chest to feel it thumping in his body too.

His skin was damp, moisture bleeding through the cotton of his button-down shirt. The heat between them felt luxurious. Like a tropical vacation, considering it was unseasonably cold out on the street. She pushed closer, stepping wider until his knee wedged between her legs. Dancing like this, letting him kiss her shoulder in front of all of these people the way he did in the mornings when they woke up together, tangled and sore, it felt both exhilarating and like not nearly enough.

Suddenly, all of these people, all of these clothes, needed to be gone. Whatever this new way between them would be, it was time they took it back to her place and explored the hell out of it.

Twenty-six

Dani’s back collided with thedoor to her condo, and she let out a half laugh, half yelp.

“Shit. Sorry.” Dylan broke their kiss, panting. He’d carried her up the stoop to her landing, swearing under his breath about her shoes and not being able to wait another second.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice breathy. “In the little pocket.”

He shifted her weight, propping his knee under her ass and holding her against the door with his chest while he dug through her purse.

“How do you find anything in here?” His exasperation was adorable, but seriously, he had about two seconds to find that key or her neighbors were going to get a show.

She tightened her legs around his waist and let go of his neck to help him search.

“Here.” She found it and shoved it into his hand.

Dylan pushed it in the lock and the door swung open. They tumbled into her living room, giggling into each other’s mouths.

“Shit, Dani. I thought I was going to have to take you in the hallway.”

“I was going to let you.”

His eyes flashed dangerously and it occurred to her that neither of them was kidding. Goosebumps swept the still-wet skin on her neck where his mouth had been.

He walked her backward into her bedroom, his mouth glued to hers, until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. His hands darted under her sweater like he was afraid she’d disappear before he touched everywhere he wanted to.

“Take this off,” he said, pulling at her clothes while he nipped at her neck. But she couldn’t move, frozen from the feel of his tongue on her skin and the tone of his voice. It was urgent, more serious than he’d ever been. Commanding. Stern. Every time they’d done this before there was laughter in his eyes and behind his words. He was playful, easy. But tonight his fingers were clumsy as he unclasped her bra, and they trembled as they glided down her sides and hooked into the top of her jeans, pulling them down over her hips. His breath came in heavy puffs, fanning over the moisture that formed on her skin.

She swallowed against a tightness in her throat, and dropped onto the bed. Her strapless bra had fallen to the floor and when she slipped her sweater over her head, his dark eyes rolled closed and his head tipped back. “Beautiful,” he whispered to the ceiling, then he fell to his knees in front of her, pressing his mouth to her stomach.

“You too,” she said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He sat back and unbuttoned it while she kicked her jeans off her feet. When he’d stripped out of his pants, he sat down beside her and pulled her onto his lap, their chests rising and falling together.

“Why does this feel so different?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” His voice was strained, and her heart felt like it would burst as she watched him fight some sort of emotion washing over his expression.

This was the first time they’d been together since he’d said those things. Since she’d said them back. Knowing that tenderness was in there all along, and touching him again with that knowledge, it felt like walking a high wire. The fall would be disastrous, but if she could stay upright, God, it felt like flying.

She leaned back to look at him, and his hand came behind her back, holding her steady. The only light in the room was the city shining through her bedroom windows, but it was bright enough to see the tiny freckles on his chest, matching the ones on his cheeks. She trailed a shaky finger over them, letting him feel what she was thinking:This is unexpected, but I like it.

He sucked in a hard breath, watching her move over his skin. He liked this, being explored. Last week Dylan had finally given her a door into himself, and tonight it was wide open again. Tonight she wanted to touch all the places she’d neglected.

She dragged her nail over his tattoo, tracing the circle. North, then South. East, then West. Like an optical illusion, the ink turned a deep indigo where before she’d only seen black. She pressed her lips to it. The word “layers” flashed across her thoughts.

His breathing turned ragged and his hands came up to wrap around her arms, stopping her fingers. He dipped his head in the dark. “I need you.”

“Take me.”

His eyes flashed and he flipped her onto her back, sliding over her to part her legs with his knee. He kissed a trail between her breasts, down to her stomach, then pressed a sloppy, sucking kiss to her center. It was enough to make her back arch and her breath catch. Every thought dancing around her head flopped over dead.

Dylan tugged her panties down her legs and watched her—eyes wild, breath rushed. Usually they took turns, giving, taking, leading, following, but tonight she wanted him to take whatever it was he wanted. She was useless to herself anyway, caught up in this weird spell of discovering Dylan.

He stretched his body over hers, then seemed to remember something. He moved to push off the bed, but she caught his arm. “Don’t,” she said. “I want to feel all of you.”

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