Page 6 of Spark

His cousins had given him a job and a place to live, and he appreciated it more than he could express, but in his experience, family always let you down. There was always a price to pay, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk getting too close to this one.

He glanced at Hattie again and wished he hadn’t been such a cheap bastard, that he’d picked a hotel less like a fucking dumpster. Nothing he could do about it now.

Dex quickly led Hattie through the foyer, past the dude behind the desk who constantly reeked of booze, and to the elevator.

The doors slid open, and he led her inside. “The place is a dump. If I’d known…” Dex said, embarrassed that he had to bring her there. He looked down at her, trying to work out how to finish that sentence—and forgot what he was saying.

Hattie was looking up at him in a way that told him she didn’t give one shit what the hotel looked like, in a way that said she probably hadn’t even noticed at all.

Her lips were slightly parted, dark pink and glossy, and her blue eyes alert and excited. Dex made a rough sound and leaned in, taking that lush mouth again in a hard kiss. He had to. And when that wasn’t enough, he hauled her off her feet, took two steps until her back met the wall of the elevator, and kissed her some more, like he wanted to fuck her, tongue delving deep like he couldn’t get inside her fast or deep enough.

His hand dropped to her soft round ass as Hattie’s fingers moved cautiously at his side, working their way under his shirt. Then she was under and her delicate fingers were moving lightly over his skin, making him crazy, lifting fucking goose bumps all over him.

The ding of the elevator and the sound of the doors sliding open had Dex reluctantly lifting his head. Ignoring the guy and his woman standing there looking at him and Hattie with slack jaws, he carried her out and across the hall to his room.

He released her long enough to unlock his door, then they were in and he slammed it after them and backed Hattie toward the bed.

Dex’s hands were shaking when he released her and yanked his shirt off. Hattie watched him, and when he flung it aside, those beautiful eyes moved over his chest, lower.

“Okay, Hattie?” he asked because they didn’t know each other. He was a stranger and he’d brought her to his shitty hotel room and was stripping his clothes off in front of her. But, fuck, he felt drunk on her, the way he wanted her. He was sure he was looking at her like a hungry wild animal, but he couldn’t rein in just how much he wanted her.

Jesus, he wouldn’t be surprised if she chose to back out at the last minute.

Fuck, he hoped she didn’t.

“Yes,” she said and took a step closer, her hands lifting to his chest. “I’m okay.”

He shuddered when her fingers lightly slid over his pecs, down over his gut, then moved around his waist so she was essentially hugging him.

She tilted her head back, and he looked down at her.

“I’m glad I met you tonight,” she said softly.

The woman had no idea. None. Nothing had felt right for him in a long time. It started when he’d come home and found out his girlfriend had moved on with his brother. And shit only got worse after his last deployment when he’d been injured bad enough that he’d been taken off active duty for good.

Things hadn’t improved any when he moved here desperate for a job.

No, nothing had felt right until Hattie walked into Woody’s.

Dex slid his hands down over her hips, gripped the bottom of her shirt, and lifted it up and off, flinging it aside. “Not as glad as me, sweetness.”

His gaze dropped, taking her in, and he had to swallow the boulder in his throat when he got a look at her in just her bra and jeans. He wanted to spend hours worshipping this woman. The feeling was so strong he dropped to his knees and pressed his face against her soft tits and belly as he yanked open the button and zipper of her jeans.

She moaned softly, fingers sliding into his hair, nails grazing his scalp as he pressed sucking kisses along the top of her underwear. He helped her out of her shoes and looked up at her, silently asking if it was okay to take her jeans off. When she nodded, he quickly got rid of them and tossed them aside as well.

“Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Hattie blushed but took his face in her hands and leaned down, pressing her lips to his, kissing him hot and hungry. Dex slid his arms under her ass and stood, taking her with him. He wanted inside her in a big fucking way, but first he wanted a taste of her, every inch of her gorgeous body. If this was all he’d get, if this was all she was willing to give him, this one night, he wanted to make the most of it.

Laying her on the bed, he stood back and toed off his boots, yanked off his socks, and got to work on his jeans, shoving them down his legs and kicking them aside.

On her elbows, Hattie’s gaze moved over him, his chest, stomach, thighs—no doubt taking in the deep scar he had on his right one, one of several scars on his body—then finally landing on his cock.

Her eyes widened.

Dex knew how it looked, hard as fuck, tenting the hell out of his boxers. Like he had a heat-seeking missile down the damn front. Intimidating. More than one woman had said that about his dick.

He was a big man, and his cock was in proportion to the rest of him.