Page 88 of Side Trip

Joy eyed the door. She didn’t want a shower, and she doubted Dylan wanted to watch TV. She recalled each good night kiss on the cheek he’d given her. Chaste, but not. Respectable, but loaded with longing. She thought of hiswhat-ifin the rain. What had he been trying to tell her? She needed to know.

Before she lost her nerve, Joy wrapped a towel around her torso and returned to the room. Dylan spun around at the sound of the bathroom door opening and froze. He stood by the TV wearing nothing but navy-blue boxer briefs.

“Joy,” he said, alarmed.

“Dylan. What—”

Words failed her. She forgot all about the question she’d wanted to ask him as she took in the sight of him.

Beads of water dotted his broad shoulders and firm chest. His ribs expanded with each breath. She watched his breathing grow more shallow, rapid. His stomach rippled behind the dry tee he gripped.

“You’re supposed to be in the shower,” he said.

“I ... I changed my mind,” she fumbled.

“I was changing into dry clothes. I didn’t expect you to ...” His gaze darted to the bathroom behind her. “The shower is still running.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you going to turn it off?”

She slowly shook her head and took a step forward. “Earlier, on the highway. What were you trying to say? About this trip,” she added when he frowned.

“I, uh ...” He visibly swallowed. “I don’t remember.” His gaze slid over her and his entire demeanor changed. Whatever had him hesitating around her, whatever uncertainty he felt toward her, seemed to dissolve before her eyes. His eyes darkened with arousal and his face hardened with determination. He tossed the shirt on the bed and crossed the room, right past the friend zone and into her personal space. She could feel the heat of him. Her breath ruffled the smattering of dark hair on his chest. Slowly, she looked up at him and met his intensely dark eyes.

“Joy.” He breathed her name. Lifting a hand to her face, he gently cupped her cheek. “Take a side trip with me.”

She frowned.That’s what he wanted to ask?But she heard herself say, “Where to?”

He traced his thumb across her lower lip. “Us.”

Oh.

Joy exhaled just a fraction. Her body shivered. This time it had nothing to do with a chill.

Dylan delicately touched her hair as if she were the most fragile thing to him. He slowly drew a finger across her cheek, along her jawline, and down her neck. That single finger trailing over her damp flesh was the most sensual thing she’d ever felt. He hooked the finger in her towel, right where she clutched the stiff white terry to her breasts. Her chest heaved.

Dylan lifted his eyes to hers and held her gaze for an intense, drawn-out moment.

“What happens on the road ... ,” he began and cocked a brow.

“Stays on the road,” she finished with a whisper. Her heart beat once. Twice. She let go of the towel. It fell at her feet.

Dylan’s eyes followed. He sharply inhaled. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Her entire body flushed. She looked at the towel on the carpet as his words sank in. They settled in her stomach before spreading outward, lighting her up. She’d never had such a strong reaction to a man’s compliment. She’d never felt so aroused by a simple statement.

“Dylan,” she whispered, looking up at him. She ached everywhere. She ached for him.

He cradled her face and kissed her. The kiss started out light and gentle until Joy moaned, swept her hands to his head, and tightly grasped his hair. The kiss changed, deepened, and the embers crackling between them ignited.

Dylan kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed better than he could dance. She would even say that he kissed better than he could sing, and if she wasn’t careful, she could drown in his kisses. She could drown in him.

Joy threw her arms around his neck and Dylan’s arms curved around her lower back. Without breaking their kiss, he straightened, lifting her with him. She wrapped her legs around his hips. He carried her to the bed that was clear of their stuff and gently laid her on top of the covers.

She watched him push down his boxer briefs and his gaze roam over her body, taking her in as if absorbing the fact that she was there with him, that this—them—was really happening. That was exactly how Joy was looking at him.

His pupils dilated and his breathing quickened. His hand trembled when he skimmed his fingers along her shoulder, over her left breast, and dipped into the concave of her belly. Joy inhaled sharply at the contact. He didn’t stop until he reached her toes.

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