Chapter 49 (1/2)

there aren’t three million other guys in the city who would happily return any interest she showed in them.

Dakota huffs. The gray dress she’s wearing is falling off her shoulder and she looks so small next to me.

“I don’t know . . . maybe I never said your name, exactly.” She looks around my bedroom. Her eyes stop at the picture of us on my dresser. “And I didn’t keep any pictures of us around.”

She looks guilty when she says this. And it’s not like I expected her to build a shrine for me or anything, but is it possible that she didn’t even mention my name to her roommates? Not once?

“Like at all?” I ask.

She shakes her hand and pulls at my shirt. Her fingers are struggling to loosen the fabric, so she moves to the buttons of my jeans. I steady them, cupping my hands around hers and pulling them to her chest.

“Not tonight,” I say against her cheek.

With a pouty grumble, she pulls her hand free and dips it into my pants. I groan as she grips me and slowly moves her hand up and down.

Think logically, I remind myself.

I have to think logically, and I can’t do that while Dakota’s teasing me like this. I reach for her hand and gently unwrap her fingers from me. She looks up at me in confusion.

“You had too much to drink,” I say, and lead her by the elbow to my bed. She stands in silence while I reach for the zipper of her dress.

She gathers up her hair and holds it out of the way to allow me access to the fabric. When the dress begins to fall she holds it to her chest and I pull her tights down her smooth legs. She steps out of them and lets the dress drop to the floor. She isn’t wearing a bra.

Fuck me, she isn’t wearing a bra.

Clearly I’m meant to be tempted tonight. For panties, she’s wearing a red thong made of lace. Her ass looks so good in them, petite and toned. She turns around to face me with a devilishly sly grin.