Page 19 of Insatiable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower 1)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dalton
I keep glancing at Penny from the corner of my eye as we ride home in silence. If you had told me when I woke up this morning my day would have been spent in a run-down employment agency and a makeshift bakery, I would’ve never believed it. The only thing more surprising than where I was is how I felt about it.
“What do you think success looks like?” she asks me as though she’s been mulling the thought over the whole ride. I can spot a trap or a trick question from a mile away, but I still feel compelled to answer.
“I don’t think you reach success,” I admit. “It’s a goal, a series of them, not a destination.”
“So if I understand this right, you see it as something you can never actually get but you have to work for your whole life?”
“I see it as something that keeps people driven. Moving forward. Getting somewhere.” We’re dancing around the issue. I get it. Her dad, Millie, even Penny, don’t get what it means to push through to the next level. But I know exactly what it takes.
“Where’s happiness in the equation?”
“I’m pretty damn happy when the checks come in.”
“I’ve been in the audience when someone my father helps crosses the stage for a diploma when all odds said they never would. I’ve been in the room when someone comes back to tell my father how the job he got them saved their lives. He’s changed families, the trajectory of generations. There have been days I’ve delivered cake samples with Millie, and it’s brought a bride to tears because with everything there was to plan, finally something felt perfect. I’ve made jewelry for people out of the mementos of their loved ones who have died. Handing that over, witnessing that moment, that’s success to me. Does that make any sense at all to you?”
Penny isn’t asking me because she’s worried about my eternal soul or anything. She’s asking because she needs to know that somewhere inside of me there is a shred of something redeemable. When I don’t answer, I know I extinguish something inside her, a misplaced hope.
“Thanks anyway for trying to help my dad. I know he’s a lost cause. But it was a nice distraction.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s a lost cause,” I counter, trying to give her something, anything, worthy of her hopefulness. “I’m still brainstorming.”
“Really?” she asks, furrowing her brows as she looks up at me. We’re already close together as we sit in the back of the town car, but she grabs my arm and hugs it. I can feel her tight body pressed against me, and I know something is different. Her touch lingers. Her eyes rake over my face.
If I were a better man, a more noble man, I would let this evening end the way so many others have, but I want her. More every time I’m with her. I want her so badly, I can’t remember any of the reasons why being with her isn’t a good idea.
“Upstairs,” I whisper in a husky voice. It’s not a question but a command.
Her eyes round, and I spend the longest moment of my life waiting for her answer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Penny
I don’t say yes, but I don’t say no either. I put my hand in his and follow him to the door of his apartment.
Okay, by almost all definitions that’s a yes.
I don’t know what I expect. Will he haul me inside? Toss me up against the wall? Am I ready for that?
He opens the door of his apartment and gives me a strange look, like he’s worried about how I’m feeling. I don’t want to try to justify why I’m here.
He closes the door behind me. My mouth goes dry and I wring my hands in front of me. I’ve never done anything this wild before.
“Come in and sit down,” Dalton says, offering me a drink.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit in a whoosh.
Dalton pours himself a drink as well. “Penny, I don’t jump women. Nothing has to happen.”
“So you’re okay if we don’t have sex?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to light the fireplace, strip you down one article of clothing at a time, and spend the night making your eyes roll back in your head from pleasure. Not taking it there is going to make trying to have any kind of conversation with you a real bitch, but I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
Oddly, I believe him. Dalton says it as it is. I accept the drink from him and move to the couch. I’m more turned on saying no to him than I’ve ever been saying yes to anyone else. It’s confusing, wonderful, and awful all at once. “I told you about my one-hand rule right?” I ask, feeling my body pulse with desire.
“I can make your eyes roll with one hand if that helps,” he jokes, taking a swig of his drink. “This is a bad idea, Penny. Maybe you should go back to your place.”
I stay where I am, take a gulp of my drink, then put it on the coffee table. “You think I’m a prude.”
He groans. “I’m a class A asshole. Don’t adjust yourself to fit what I want.”
A warmth spreads through me at his words. Some people can rattle on and on and say nothing. Others say very little, but everything they feel is in those few words. Dalton wants me, but he also wants to protect me—almost as if he thinks he’s not good enough for me. My heart breaks for the boy in him who probably always wondered if it was his fault everyone left him. Did he feel unlovable?
“Could I have one kiss and that’s it?” It’s a ridiculous question, but I need to hear his response. I shouldn’t test this, but I want to prove something to him as much as to myself.
“I don’t understand.”
“I want you to light the fireplace. I want everything you described, but not tonight. Tonight I only want to know what it would be like to kiss you—really kiss you.”
He loosens his tie as if it’s choking him. “I don’t know.”
I shrug, embarrassed and disappointed all at once. “I’m sorry. This is dumb. I’m wa
sting your time. The women you’re used to—”
“Penny.”
“Yes.”
“Come here.”
My heart is pounding in my chest as I stand but don’t take a step toward him. “How about you meet me halfway?”
He’s there in a heartbeat. One hand slides to the small of my back, the other cups my cheek, sort of forcefully but in a sexy way. His tongue parts my lips, and I’m shocked by the pull I feel toward his body. I arch against him. He’s excited, but not out of control. I relax into the kiss, give myself over to it.
He explores my mouth, teases my mouth to explore his. It’s every bit as hot as I imagined it would be. I’ve been kissed before, but this is something different. It’s roughly tender. Restrained passion. His hands don’t wander. He takes his time, but goes no further than what I asked for.
When he raises his head I arch against him again and groan. It was too good not to have more of. He kisses my forehead this time. “Good night, Penny.”
I shudder against him. Am I making a huge mistake? Why am I leaving when every part of me is clamoring to stay?
He steps back, and I am a jumble of confused desire and gratitude. He does care about me. No, he might not be good about saying it, but now I’m sure of it.
It makes leaving him more difficult, but I’m following my heart on this one. Sex means nothing to him and everything to me. Neither of us is ready to take the next step.
“Good night,” I say, rushing to the door and clumsily letting myself out.
Back in my apartment, I close the door and slump against it. Dalton not only wants me, but he has feelings for me. We could not be more different. Some people might say, “Opposites attract,” but I’ve seen the uglier side of people who are fundamentally different trying to be together. My parents must have felt like this at one time. I’ve seen photos of them looking at each other with love. When they said their vows, they’d meant them.
Although I’m an optimistic person, I try to stay grounded.
I cover my face with my hands and ask the universe for a sign—any sign that history is not about to repeat itself.
