He moves before I get a chance to go far. Devan clasps the back of my neck, holding me in place. It’s not a rough grip, but there’s a promise of roughness there that makes me shiver. He drags his thumb lightly down the side of my throat, his eyes going hot. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. Why would I hesitate? It feels like this moment, this night, is six years in the making. It feels inevitable.
“What’s your room number?”
The question, so practical, so real, throws me off. I blink. “Um, right now?”
Devan searches my face, his thumb continuing that intoxicating stroke up and down my throat. “Let me tell you how this is going to go. If it works for you, then we move forward. If it doesn’t, I’ll put you in a cab and send you home safely.”
I can barely draw in a breath. “Okay.”
“No games, Hazel. If this isn’t for you, you don’t get to threaten to fuck other people or double back. Promise me.”
I enjoy needling him quite a bit, but I also want this more than I want to be a little brat. Which leaves me with a single option. I nod, achingly aware of how the motion rubs the pads of his fingers against my skin. “Okay. I promise.”
His lip curve, and anticipation licks through me. Devan leans closer and lowers his voice. “You’re going to slip me your spare key and go up to that room. There, you’re going to take off that red dress, close your eyes, and bend over that bed and wait for me.”
I lick my lips. The room feels like it’s become twenty degrees warmer in the last few seconds. Is this really happening? “And then?”
“And then I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want to that tight little body of yours.” His hand tightens on my neck the slightest bit. “You tell me yellow if we need to slow down, red if you need me to stop.”
The room seems to compress around me. My body goes hot and tight. “A safe word.” I’m familiar with them, of course. I’ve had my fair share of adventurous sex games, but I figured out relatively quickly that kink demands more vulnerability than I’m willing to give and should be reserved for special people or special occasions.
Tonight fits both categories.
“You said you feel safe with me. No matter what happens next, that won’t change.” He holds my gaze. “This only goes as far as you want it to.”
The hysterical urge to laugh nearly overwhelms me. He won’t thank me for the reaction, will probably even take it the wrong way. This only goes as far as I want it to? I want it to go all the way. I want every single fantasy rattling around in that handsome head of his. Every depraved thing, every dirty little detail. “I want everything.” I lick my lips. “I have some fantasies of my own, too.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “You’ll tell them to me tonight.”
The command makes me shiver, and his gaze sharpens on me, which makes me shiver harder. I hardly sound like myself when I confirm, “I will. I promise.”
“Your room number.”
I rattle it off without hesitation. My hands are shaking as I pull my spare hotel key out of my clutch and pass it to him. He gives my neck a light squeeze and releases me. “Go.”
I go.
I takes more effort than I could have dreamt to keep my pace slow and even as I walk out of the hotel bar. I can feel Devan’s gaze on me the entire time, dark and filled with promise.
This is happening.
It’s actually—finally—happening.
I manage to keep it together until I step into the elevator and the doors slide shut. Only then do I lean against the wall and exhale harshly. “Holy shit. Holy shit.” Part of me really, truly believed that Devan would turn me down. He’s kept himself at such a careful distance since the night we met…
Pain, dull and familiar, lashes me. My parents have been gone a full third of my life at this point. More, even. It still hurts. Not as much as it used to, not enough to send me into a full tailspin every time I accidentally think of them, but the pain is there all the same.
There seem to be no limits on grief.
At least it’s faded enough to allow myself to touch on the happier memories. There was a long time where I couldn’t bear to think of them at all. I wonder if Devan thinks about my father ever. It’s not like we have ever talked about it before, and he lost someone, too. Obviously a friend is different than a parent, but that doesn’t mean his grief isn’t just as valid as mine.