In The Predator's Boardroom: Carrying The Alpha Billionaire's Heir novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: One Night

Wynne spends the night with Dashiell and wakes alone, then finds her locks changed, her things on the landing and a cheerful text from Bree.

The room beside his had a bath bigger than my whole apartment.

I stood under the water until it ran cold and the last of the party was off my skin.

Then I put on the white hotel robe, and I did not go to bed.

At three in the morning I knocked on the door of the room next to mine.

Dashiell opened it in his shirtsleeves, with the collar undone and a glass of water in his hand.

He looked at my wet hair and my bare feet.

"I slept," I said.

"For how long?"

"Long enough."

"That isn't sleep, Miss Tarrant."

It was the first time he had said my first name.

It went straight through me, and I stepped over the threshold before he could close the door.

"Then tell me no," I said. "Say it properly. I'll leave."

He put the glass down on the table behind him without looking at it.

He did not say it.

"Say it again," I said. "Not Miss Tarrant. Just Wynne."

"Wynne," he said, low and rough, and then his hands were in my wet hair and his mouth was on mine.

This kiss was nothing like the one in the bar.

There was no care in it at all.

He walked me backward until the wall hit my shoulders, and I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and got my palms flat on his stomach.

He was hot and hard-muscled and he shuddered when I touched him.

"Say you want this," he said against my throat.

"I want this."

"Say it again."

"I want you, Dashiell. Now."

His growl was the most honest sound I had heard all night.

He undid the belt of the robe with one hand, and it fell open, and he stopped for a moment and just looked.

Nobody had ever looked at me like that.

Jared had always looked at me to see how I would look next to him.

Dashiell looked at me as if I were all he wanted.

"Beautiful," he said, and it did not sound like a line.

He lifted me against the wall with his hands under my thighs, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt how hard he was through his trousers.

I ground down against it, and he swore.

He carried me to the bed and laid me down and knelt over me with his shirt gone and his chest heaving.

I reached for his belt and he caught my wrist and pinned it beside my head, gently, and kissed his way down my body.

His mouth found my breast, then my stomach, then the inside of my thigh.

"Dashiell," I said, and my voice broke.

"I know."

He put his mouth on my pussy and licked me slow and deep, until my back came off the sheet and I was begging him.

He held my hips down and did not let me hurry.

My first orgasm tore through me with his name in it, and I grabbed the headboard and shook.

He did not stop until I was limp and gasping.

Then he rose over me, and I finally got his belt open and his cock in my hand, thick and heavy and hot.

"Now," I said. "Please."

He pushed into me in one long stroke, and we both stopped breathing.

I had never felt so full.

"Look at me," he said.

I looked at him, and his eyes had gone black at the edges, and he was shaking with the effort of being slow.

"Don't be careful," I said.

He wasn't.

He drove into me hard and deep, and I met every thrust with my hips and my nails in his back.

The bed hit the wall in a rhythm that I felt in my teeth.

He bit my shoulder lightly, and said my name over and over, and I felt myself tighten around him again.

"Come for me," he said, and his hand slid between us and found my clit.

I came so hard I couldn't make a sound.

He followed me a moment later, with a deep, wrecked groan against my neck, his whole body locked and trembling, his cock pulsing inside me.

Afterward we lay tangled in the sheets, and he kept one hand on my hip.

I fell asleep with my face against his chest, and for the first time in years I was not listening for anyone's footsteps.

When I woke, the window was grey with dawn, and his side of the bed was empty and cold.

There was no note.

His jacket was gone from the chair, and so was his watch.

I sat up in the big white bed, holding the sheet to my chest.

It had been the best night of my life, and I had woken up alone.

I dressed in the green dress, which still smelled of rain, and went down to the lobby with my shoes in my hand.

The clerk behind the desk gave me a bright, careful smile.

"Miss Tarrant? The suite is paid for through the end of the month, with Mr. Crane's compliments. He asked that you stay as long as you like."

"Where is he?"

"Mr. Crane left at five, ma'am. His driver was waiting."

I did not stay.

I took a ferry and a bus home with my head high, and I was not sorry, and I was not crying.

The key would not turn in the lock of my apartment door.

I tried it three times.

Then I saw the new brass lock, and my boxes stacked in the hall on the wet landing, with my winter coat on top and my mother's teapot wrapped in a towel.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

It was a text from Bree, with a heart on the end.

Sorry about the mess. Jared's moving in this afternoon, his mom says the lease was always in the pack's name. No hard feelings x

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