My phone bings. It’s Dalton.
Spend tomorrow with me.
I hug the phone to my chest. As far as signs go, it isn’t definitive. He didn’t declare anything, or claim he’d had an epiphany. He simply wants to see me.
I remember what I said to him about people not being able to prove his theory about them wrong if he never gives them a chance to. I could decide right now Dalton and I are too different to ever work out, but how is that different from him closing everyone out of his life?
Coming to the Bachelor Tower was about proving to my sister that I am not who she thinks I am. It has become a learning experience for me as well. I’m more than I thought I was. I don’t want to make decisions based on old rules or out of fear. I want to be brave and bold, like Kylie, but in my own way.
Dalton might break my heart. Is he worth the risk? Maybe, if we take it slowly.
I text him my answer. Yes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dalton
A week later, I turn off my office computer at five o’clock sharp. I promised Penny I’d accompany her to the Fundraiser for Humanity, and forcing myself to stay later wouldn’t mean I’d get more work done. I finished what I needed to, and I’m too distracted to start something new—not while I know Penny is waiting for me.
If anyone had told me I would spend this much time with a woman without fucking her, and not be a miserable bastard, I would have said they were crazy. Penny is slowly challenging everything I thought I knew about myself. I don’t enjoy walks in the park, but the one we went on earlier in the week left me feeling oddly refreshed. I consider going to the movies a waste of time, but I have to admit the surprise ending of the thriller we went to see made me want to see the movie again. I definitely don’t sip on wine and stare at famous paintings, trying to figure out what sets them apart from every other painting in the world, but if Penny asked me to go to another museum with her I’d say yes. I enjoyed seeing which artwork Penny and I agreed on and others where we found no common ground.
The last week with Penny was good—so good it scares me. I don’t look at other women when I’m with her. Worse, I don’t look at them when I’m not with her. Ever since she asked me for one kiss and no more, it’s what I have given her each night. It’s slowly killing me and eating away my desire to do anything but follow her around. I’d end the whole thing right now if it didn’t feel so fucking good to be with her.
As I head to my car, images of Penny goad me to hasten my step. I love the way her face lights up when she sees me. I love how easy sexual banter has become between us even though we haven’t taken it further. The biggest turn on for me now is when I know something turns her on. I can’t get enough of that.
I also love to make her laugh.
Hear her voice.
Feel any part of her on any part of me.
Call me insatiable.
I make short time of my drive home. I shower and dress with efficient, impatient speed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Penny
“I honestly thought there wasn’t a bone in my body that was caught up in the princess nonsense.” This dress is like wearing a cloud. The chiffon, the tulle, it’s all huge, yet somehow it feels weightless. The dark mauve color is perfect for the gala and matches the accessories on Dalton’s tuxedo. Put a tiara on my head and I might break out in song and get little woodland creatures to follow me around.
“You look stunning.” Dalton laughs as his hand lands on the small of my back. “Who knew all it would take for you to fit into my world was a shower?”
“You’ll pay for that.”
“I hope it involves restraints. Please let it involve restraints.”
I knock my elbow into his ribs, but my cheeks warm. The sexual tension I felt for Dalton since the first time I met him is still there, but it has deepened. We’ve added a layer of friendship onto what we have, and being near him makes me feel good, body and soul.
“That dress was made for you.” Dalton gestures to the twinkling lights above our heads and spins me in his arms “And you were made for this.”
“Do you know all these people?” I’m still in his arms, pressed against his body as he stares deep in my eyes.
“What other people?” Dalton whispers and my heart thuds so hard against my ribs I wonder if the whole room can hear it.
“Dalton,” a chubby-faced man with suspenders and a ridiculous bow tie announces as he slaps him on the back. “You never show up to these things.”
“Mr. Cannington,” Dalton says, his hold on me loosening. “Some things are worth leaving the office for.”
“That’s not what I hear about you,” Mr. Cannington says, wiggling his overgrown brows at us. “A real go-getter. Just about every other person I run into tells me I should speak with you.”
“I’d love to chat,” Dalton says, then looks at me. He looks torn. “I think we have some real continuity in our business models to find mutually beneficial opportunities.”
“I agree.” Mr. Cannington nods. “But I don’t want to take you away from your lovely date this evening.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Miss—”
“Penelope Fuller,” I provide and shake his hand.
Dalton tenses at my side. He doesn’t think I understand what needs to be done in this moment. If I stand here doe-eyed and dumb, he’ll have to agree with Mr. Cannington, and they’ll miss their chance to talk. A less secure woman would do just that.
I want Dalton to make this connection. He graciously went everywhere I dragged him this past week. The least I can do is help him now. I know what it can mean for him. “I actually have some ladies over by the bar I promised to chat with.” I grin graciously. “It’s me you’ll have to excuse.”
“No problem at all.” Mr. Cannington beams with a tiny bow in my direction. Dalton however can’t seem to let me go completely. He masks the shock and relief on his face, but I can still read it in his eyes. He’s impressed. For some reason that matters to me. He holds me just another second and brushes a gentle kiss against my cheek.
“We won’t be long,” he promises.
I smile. “I might be plenty long myself. You know how women can get when they start talking.” My joke is made much funnier by the fact that I know no one at this party, and I only intend to go hide somewhere until they’re done. But Mr. Cannington is none the wiser as he laughs and waves me off.
I watch Dalton break right into a conversation about business, and his whole demeanor changes. He’s animated and excited as I hear terms like long-term acquisition and year-over-year growth pass between them. I recognize this enthusiasm as the same I always see in Kylie when she gets into the nitty-gritty of a business conversation.
I slip away to another small room where I find stacked champagne glasses towering more than two feet over my head. I flash with the anxiety of being the klutz who bumps the table and sends it crashing down. Note to self: stay away from that side of the room.
“That’s a lovely dress,” a woman says as she touches my shoulder and looks me over as though I might be up for auction later. “I haven’t seen you here before. What is your name?” Her hair is pulled so tightly it’s tugging back the corners of her eyes and her dress is so formfitting I can count her ribs.
“My name is Penny. Penelope Fuller.”
“I’m Darling Mewly.”
I nod as though that is a name anyone should actually have and shake her dainty ice-cold hand when she extends it.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Is your sister Kylie Fuller?” Darling asks as she scrutinizes my features. “Your mother is Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” I gulp out, feeling suddenly like the lights have been turned up, and they’re all pointing at me.
“Wow, what a pedigree you have,” Darling gasps. “I thought you were arm candy for one of these womanizing bastards. But you are a Fuller. A force in the business world.”
“They are,” I say. “I, on the other hand, don’t
exactly stack up to their reputations.”
“A late bloomer.” Darling waves off my self-assessment. “Can’t have that fierce blood in your veins and not end up demolishing a competitor’s company.”
“The only thing I demolish is a giant slice of cake.” I laugh but Darling only meets me with a weak smile.
“So then you are here with someone?”
“Yes.” I gesture over my shoulder to where I left Dalton animatedly chatting. “Dalton Croft.”
“Tonight,” she says, raising her brows high. “Really?”
I let out a nervous laugh.
“You want some champagne, dear?” Darling asks as she points to the tower of glasses.
“No, thank you.”
“Some advice?” Before I have a chance to refuse that as well, she adds, “I’ve never seen Dalton with the same woman twice. He’s the king of the one-night stand, if you know what I mean.”
“We’re actually seeing each other.” I blurt the words out half in defense of him and half of myself. I’m not a one-night stand for him.
“Wow,” Darling says. “Think you can tame the beast? I’m impressed, but then you are a Fuller.”
“I . . .” I stutter.
“And here’s your tiger now,” Darling says, looking perfectly giddy with anticipation. “Dalton, I hear you’re finally settling down. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you were in a real relationship. I mean, when are you going to give up your apartment in Bachelor Tower?”
My cheeks blaze with heat, and I can practically feel the walls closing in on me. I don’t know how long someone can go without breathing before they pass out, but I’m on the verge of finding out.
Dalton frowns but places an arm possessively around my waist. “How is Peter doing, Darling? Is he still in France?”
Darling shrinks back and gulps, looking suddenly as uncomfortable as I was a moment ago. “He is,” she croaks out. “I’m going to refresh my drink. Good to see you.”
“I am so sorry,” I gush, squeezing his arm tightly. “She was being so snarky, and I blurted out that we were in a relationship. Thank you for not making me look like a complete idiot.”
He began to relax. “What did she say?”
I really don’t want to talk about it, so I change the subject. “How did your talk with Cannington go?”
“Better than expected,” Dalton answers with a bright, excited look on his face. “I’ve been waiting for him to come to me for months. I knew there was a big opportunity for the two of us to partner on some foreign deals, but Cannington doesn’t respond well to people who pitch him unsolicited ideas. His office is a revolving door of people who want to be in business with him, and he turns most away. I planted the seed with a few associates of his, and I knew he’d eventually come my way.”
“That’s great. I’m glad it worked out. I’m sorry about the thing with Darling. I’m sure she’ll be spreading that rumor around as fast as she can. It’ll damage your reputation.”
“I’ll survive. There are worse things to be accused of than winning over a woman like you.”
“A woman like me?” I ask, blushing again. “You mean a yoga instructor. Dog walker. Former child receptionist for a failing employment agency?”
“A woman who can wear that dress and make everyone else in this place look like a peasant. A woman who can smile and mean it, no matter what’s going on around her. A woman who hurts because her dad’s hurting. I can live with people thinking I’m dating a woman like that.”
Dating? He said dating? That’s what we’re doing? “I’d like to dance,” I say as the orchestra in the main room begins to play. Dalton bends his arm to escort me to the dance floor and the heady thrill of the night overtakes me. The lights. The opulence. The drinks. Every surface perfectly decorated. Even the food on the table looks like it’s been artfully designed.
Maybe it’s not so bad to have a night like this every once in a while. I imagine Kylie here and how she would maneuver through the crowd. For once, I don’t focus on how our differences separate us but rather on how beautiful some of our differences are.
Damn Millie—she was right again. Being in the Bachelor Tower, spending time with Dalton, experiencing all of this with him is opening my eyes. Maybe I don’t have to choose a life that is all one way or all the other.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Penny
Dalton’s reserved a room at one of the most opulent hotels in the city. He’d been cool in his invitation. It wasn’t: Hey, I’ve got a room booked, want to go back and sleep together? Dalton was so much smoother than that.
“Have you ever stayed at the Four Seasons? The view from the top floor is the best in the city. I have a reservation there tonight.”
“You do?”
“When I RSVP’d I wasn’t expecting you to be my date, and I didn’t feel like commuting back to my place. I can certainly have a car service take you back though if you’d like.”
The decision is mine. After a week of ending each date with a kiss, am I ready for more?
“That won’t be necessary,” I say coyly as we step out to the busy street that is turning quickly into a crossroads. I know if we end up at that hotel tonight I will give all of myself to him. I’m hungry, no . . . starving, for the moment to finally have Dalton give me all the pleasure he’s been promising me.
“Oh yes,” he says, spinning so our bodies are pressed together tightly. He backs me up a step or two until I’m at the wall of the building we just left. With ravenous abandon, he tips my head back and kisses me in a way I’ve never been kissed. His tongue plunges into my mouth, swirling and owning the space, and before I can even consider our public location my hand is caught up in his dark hair, tugging and begging him silently never to stop.
We’re out on the street; I can hear people passing by, but my body is vibrating for more. I arch against him, rubbing myself against his rock-hard cock.
“I could fuck you here,” he growls, his lips only an inch from mine, wide chest blocking my view of everything beyond him.
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” I whisper back, and he laughs loudly.
When he pulls away I feel empty. Like I’ve never been touched in my life or I’ll never be touched again. However far it is to this hotel, is too damn far for me. We don’t talk as we walk. His hand is in mine and our pace is bordering on frantic as we burst through the lobby doors and head straight for the elevator.
“Don’t you need to check in?” I ask, pausing until he pulls me along.
“I picked up the key earlier,” he says, pulling it from his pocket. “I don’t like to waste time.” He proves his statement true as the elevator doors close, and he pulls me into his arms. This isn’t the restrained kiss we’ve shared. His touch is just the right amount of rough. I give myself over to it.
He lifts his head and looks at me with the same wild stare. “You’re sure?” he asks raggedly. “If you need more time, say it now.”
Tears spring to my eyes and any remaining doubt dropped away. I pull his mouth back to mine and rub myself against his bulging cock.
“We’re going straight to the top,” he said between kisses, looking at me with a devilish grin. “I should be able to wait, but—”
His hand slides up my dress and beneath my panties. I’m already wet for him and that seems to excite him further. His finger plunges inside me as his thumb works my clit. I’m not worried the door might open. I don’t care about anything past him and the fire he’s lighting inside me.
“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers hotly.
I answer in a moan. God, I don’t want him to stop.
The elevator opens into a private hallway. We stumble out. A moment later he sweeps me into his arms and carries me past the living room toward what I’m guessing is the bedroom.
We make it most of the way, but our eyes meet, and we’re lost. He lowers me slowly and begins to kiss me again.
I’ve never felt so bold, so free. It’
s my turn to push him to the wall, and though my size limits my ability, he plays along. A primal growl of approval escapes his lips, and I’m suddenly soaked with desire. I yank off his bow tie and pop every button off his shirt as I rip it free. Kissing my way down his chest, I manage to pull at his belt and free his hard cock from his pants.
The desire to swallow his firm, pulsing cock overtakes me, and before he can catch his hands in my hair, I have nearly all of him in my mouth.
“Fuck,” he calls out in a husky whisper as I slide my tongue up and down his shaft, catching a rhythm that seems to be sending him quickly to the brink of ecstasy. He stops me, though. “No, not like this. Not this time. Slow down, baby.”
The tables turn, and he’s undressing me, kissing his way down my body. When I’m naked he holds my hands above my head and runs his hands up and down my body as if he’s savoring every moment. There isn’t an inch of me his hands don’t worship. I’m writhing with impatience. It’s not fair that I can’t touch him. When his mouth follows the path his hands had taken, I’m beyond coherent thought.
He drops to his knees and pulls my pussy roughly to his mouth. I dig my hands in his hair and wonder if what I did with the other men was even sex, because it was nothing like this. His tongue is magic. His fingers are skilled. My body is doing things it’s never done before, and it’s heaven—sheer heaven.
I sob out his name when I come. I realize I should apologize to every woman I’ve ever silently judged for being with a string of men. If Dalton had been my first, I wouldn’t be able to go a week—let alone a year—without experiencing this again.
“Get on the bed,” he demands suddenly, and when I hesitate, he lifts me like I’m as light as a feather. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“I don’t want you to,” I moan, running my hand over my sex and tipping my head back, overrun with anticipation.
He lays me down on the bed and rolls on a condom. He’s above me a moment later. I part my legs wide and run my hands over his strong chest.