Maya Banks - Letting Go

She went still against him and then nestled even farther into his embrace, tucking her head underneath his chin. God, they fit. Like two puzzle pieces. He wrapped both arms around her, anchoring her there, simply enjoying the feel of her in his arms in a way he’d never been able to enjoy before. Because now she knew where he stood, and she was allowing it. She damn well knew he was holding and touching her not out of friendship, but as a man who very much wanted her heart and soul.

“Now about that promise?”

She slowly drew away and looked him in the eye. “I promise, Dash. Just give me a little time to sort through all of this. It’s been a difficult day for me, and everything I thought was going to be, didn’t turn out the way I expected at all. I need to process this.”

He nodded and started to speak, but she continued on in a rush.

“I don’t want to use you, Dash. And maybe I was okay with using a stranger. Someone who didn’t mean anything to me. But I won’t use you. Not you. I won’t use you as a crutch or some experiment. You mean too much to me. Your friendship means too much to me.”

He smiled and tenderly stroked a piece of hair from her cheek to behind her ear. “But honey, I don’t mind if you use me. As long as the end result is having you. I’ve used all manner of women over the past few years. I’m not proud of that fact, but it is what it is. They were all a poor substitute for what I couldn’t have at the time. You.”

“You pretended they were me?” she whispered in an astonished tone.

He nodded. “Again, I’m not proud of it. But there it is. I couldn’t have you, so I slaked my hunger and desire for you with other women. And maybe it changes the way you’ll look at me. It’s a chance I have to take. But I won’t lie to you. There have certainly been other women. I thought I was in a position to never have what I most wanted, so I dealt with it.”

“I don’t fault you for being with other women, Dash. God, how could I? I was married. I would have never expected you to be faithful to a woman who wasn’t even yours!”

“I’m glad,” he said simply. “Because, honey? Once I have you, there’ll never be another woman. And you can take that to the bank.”

Her eyes widened in surprise again. It was as if it had all just sunk in at once. Her eyes dulled and went hazy with shock. Her body trembled and she balled her fingers together to try to hide the fact that they were shaking.

“I want you to stay here tonight, Joss.”

He held up his hand when the protest formed on her lips. And then he cupped her chin, stroking his thumb down her jawline.

“You’ve been thrown one hell of a curveball. I get that. And I’m not asking you to go to bed with me. Not yet. Not tonight. But stay here in the guest room. I’d feel better if you weren’t alone. I’ll make us breakfast in the morning and then I’ll take you home. And then I’ll give you time. In the morning we’ll set a date. Dinner. Dancing. Whatever pleases you. Then you can give me your answer, and depending on the answer, we’ll go from there.”

She swallowed visibly and he could see the indecision in her eyes. Her weighing her options and trying to absorb the events of the day.

“Stay,” he whispered, angling his head to kiss her again.

She emitted a sweet sigh as his tongue pushed in to taste her all over again. Kissing her was addictive. Now that he’d kissed her for the first time, he knew it would never be enough. He wanted to taste her everywhere. Her breasts. He wanted to get between her legs and savor every inch of her feminine flesh. And then he wanted to brand her. Possess her in every conceivable fashion there was to possess a woman. Until she had no doubt as to his ownership. No doubt that he was the last man who’d ever make love to her.

“Stay,” he said again, as he reluctantly ended the kiss and drew away.

She sucked in a breath and then exhaled it in a long wave, her shoulders slumping downward with the action.

“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll stay.”

WHEN Joss walked into Dash’s kitchen the next morning, he knew she hadn’t slept well, if at all. But then neither had he. How could he when he was imagining her in the next bedroom? So fucking close and yet a world away. Out of reach. He’d lain in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, alternately thanking and cursing fate.

He was so close. This close to having his heart’s desire, and he kept wondering if this was all some sick joke fate was playing on him. Dangling the proverbial carrot in front of his nose only to cruelly yank it away. What if Joss backed out? What if she’d acted on impulse and after careful consideration chose to change her mind?

He couldn’t handle it. It had been bad enough before when he’d known he had no chance with her. But now? Now that he’d kissed her, had tasted her, had held her in his arms? He couldn’t bear it if he lost her now. Before he even had her once.

Not that once would ever be enough. Not with her. Other women? Once had been all he’d ever wanted. He hadn’t wanted to form relationships even though not doing so was torture in itself. He saw Joss and Carson. Was tortured by what they had and by knowing he’d never have the same.

Most of the time he sucked it up and dealt. But the nights when he couldn’t, when he was lonely and aching for what could never be, he’d gone to The House. Sated his needs and then went back to his self-induced purgatory.

He hoped to fuck that was over. For good. He could only hope. If willing it made it happen, then she’d have already been in his bed. Tied to it so she’d never leave.

Desperate? That didn’t even cover it. Not by a long shot.

He had no pride when it came to Joss. And he didn’t give one damn.

He poured a cup of her favorite coffee and slid it along the bar as she sat down. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, a fact that made him absurdly happy, and a pair of pajama bottoms she’d had to cinch tight to keep from falling down her hips. Not that he would have minded . . .

“You didn’t sleep, baby,” he said in a gentle tone.

She flinched and closed her eyes, but not before he saw a surge of grief swamp them.

“Please don’t call me that,” she whispered.

“Of course. I didn’t think. I’m sorry,” he said softly.

It was what Carson had always called her.

“There are plenty of other endearments I’ll use for you, honey.”

She opened her eyes and a smile flirted with the corners of her mouth.

“Now, that’s better. Surely it wasn’t that bad of a night?”

But even as he said it, he knew it likely had been. It had been hell for him, and he wasn’t the one who’d been handed a huge shock. And on the anniversary of Carson’s death. He inwardly winced, but then timing wasn’t always his friend. He wasn’t going to not act just because it was the date of his best friend’s death. Fate—and Joss—had forced his hand.

“It was a lot to take in,” she admitted, bringing the cup to her lips.

She took a sip and then closed her eyes as pleasure washed away the lines of fatigue on her face.

“You spoil me,” she said, lowering the cup.

“No, but I intend to.”

“So last night wasn’t a dream then.”

He leaned over the counter so they were face-to-face, their gazes locked. “It was a dream. My dream. Now all we have to do is make it reality.”

“You make it sound so simple,” she murmured.

“It is. Or it isn’t. It’s what we choose to make it. Me? I’m a straightforward guy, but then you know that already. I’ve waited long enough, so you’ll have to excuse my impatience now that what I want is within reach.”

“How is this supposed to work, Dash? I spent all night thinking—wondering—what this all means. Before it was surreal. It was in the abstract. Not real and in my face. I fantasized. I wondered. I even conjured up various scenarios. But now that it’s here, right in front of me, I don’t know what to do. What to expect.”

“Why don’t we both eat. We’ll talk over breakfast and I’ll answer any question you want the answer to. But as I warned you last night, if you’re unprepared for the answer, it’s best you don’t ask.”

She nodded. “No, I want the truth. I want the reality. I need to know what this means. What me being with you means.”

He reached over to squeeze her hand. “Head over to the breakfast nook. I’ll grab our plates and meet you there.”

He watched as she shuffled the short distance, holding the mug of coffee between her palms as if trying to infuse her entire body with its warmth. He’d much rather wrap himself around her. He’d give her all the warmth she needed and so much more.

Patience, Dash. Don’t blow this, man. Not when you’re so fucking close. You’ve waited too long for this.

He tempered his eagerness and took his time gathering the plates and bringing them to the table where Joss sat. She just looked . . . right. In his house, wearing his clothes, still slightly rumpled from just coming from bed, even with her hair blow-dried from her shower. The only thing that would make it better is if she’d just come from his bed.

Soon enough.

He slid the plate in front of her, watching her eyes widen, a broad smile curving her lips.

“My favorite,” she said huskily.

He smiled back at her. “Of course. Did you think I’d serve you anything else? Waffles with lots of butter and even more syrup. Dig in and enjoy. I’ll bring back milk and the bacon.”

She sighed. “I do love them but I can’t indulge often. Too many calories!”

He shook his head as he returned again with their drinks and the plate of bacon. “There isn’t a thing wrong with the way you look, Joss. Utter perfection from the top of your pretty head to the tip of those pretty pink toes you sport.”

She flushed, her cheeks going a shade of pink that nearly matched those toes.

“I don’t know how to take this . . . this change in our relationship. I’m off balance. Just yesterday I was planning to let go of you much the way I had to let go of Carson. And now . . .”

She lifted her hand in bewilderment and let it fall back to her lap.

“That wasn’t happening,” he said mildly. “You may have thought you were getting rid of me, honey, but I’m not going anywhere. I would have waited for as long as it took, but there was never a question of me making a move. You just happened to make it first.”

He watched her process his declaration, the brief furrow of her brows as they knitted in consternation. As though she was still trying to understand everything he’d dumped on her in the last twenty-four hours. And then she lowered her gaze, effectively putting an end to her silent contemplation.

She dug into her waffles and he watched, savoring her enjoyment over the breakfast he’d prepared for her. She ate as she did everything else. Artlessly. No self-consciousness. She was a woman unafraid to show her pleasure over even the simplest things. And he intended to bring her a hell of a lot more pleasure than waffles for breakfast. He had in mind a hundred ways he wanted to spoil her.

“Now, you wanted to know how this works. What exactly do you mean?” he asked.

Her fork stilled in midair on its way to her mouth. Then she lowered it, licking her lips in agitation.

“You have to know, I mean you do know now, that I’m completely new to this. I told you the things I wanted, but you haven’t told me what you want. How you expect this to work. What you’ll want of me. What you’ll do to me.”

She shivered as she said the last, and he hoped she was imagining all those things he’d do to her. And that those images intrigued and aroused her as much as they did him.

“I think the question is, what do you want me to do to—with—you.”

Impatience flared in her eyes, an emotion he was well acquainted with.

“Dash, please. Don’t play games with me. This is important.”

At that his expression became utterly serious. He leaned forward, his gaze boring into her.

“This is no game, Joss. Don’t think that even for a minute. What I feel for you, what I want to do to you, is no game. Not by a long shot.”

“Then help me out here,” she said in a pleading tone. “I’m lost without a road map. I need your honesty. I need to know what you’re thinking. I need to know how you see this playing out.”

“I think,” he said carefully, “that if we are to get into the particulars of our relationship, I’d prefer to do it in the living room where I can at least be touching you when I tell you my expectations and you outline your own.”