He pointed to the kiln in one corner, then the pottery wheel in the center of the room. Dash led her to a worktable next to a line of lockers where he stored materials. She picked up a now-dry dish that sat on top of a clean tarp. The fresh glaze made it sparkle and she rotated it from side to side, turned it over, and ran her fingers along the top and bottom.
Her mouth quirked up. “This is the most beautiful thing, like art.”
He was glad she thought so. The dish was inspired by Sophie: the shape was the curve of her hips, the dots were her freckles, and the center looked like the pixie tangerine he now associated her with. “Have you ever worked with clay?” Dash asked.
She shook her head no.
“Want to try?”
She seemed surprised by the question but quickly smiled as she said, “I’ll try anything with you.”
Her words echoed through him, bouncing around in his head until he felt dizzy. I’ll try anything for you, he thought to himself. And he realized, in that moment, that he would do anything for her. Which scared him because he didn’t know if he could ever be what she needed him to be.
She sat on a stool next to the pottery wheel as he removed clay and filled a measuring cup with water. He placed the materials on the throwing surface and showed her the handle to make the wheel spin, then put her hands on the lump of clay. Of course, as the wheel began to rotate, along with the clay, Sophie lost grip of the wet mixture and shaped it into, well, something quite lopsided.
“This is the worst vibrator I’ve ever seen.” She frowned at the poor thing.
Dash laughed as he released the lever, and the wheel came to a slow stop. “I would never suggest you need help because you don’t.”
“Of course not.” She rested her hands on the wheel and gave him a crooked smile.
“But do you want some help?” Dash pulled up a small stool behind Sophie’s chair and situated himself as near as he could. When he wrapped his arms around the outside of hers, his chest touched her back.
“Are we about to have a Ghost pottery-scene moment?” She turned to look back at him.
“Minus the ghost part.” But plus the erection part, because with his mouth so close to her neck, breathing in the citrus scent of her, Dash grew hard. He moved the wheel’s lever to try to stay focused, and the table began to spin. He guided her hands up and around the clay, then helped her fingers form a hole in the center.
As the wheel spun and their bodies formed a kind of unit, he was aware of the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and how his chin grazed the side of her cheek. Eventually, he stopped the spinning wheel. His hands lingered on top of hers, both of their fingers damp and caked with clay. She turned her head, and their mouths were just inches apart.
“Dash.” Sophie’s voice was sweet and smooth and went down easy.
“Yeah?” He swallowed a sliver of longing. He needed to kiss her.
“You think I can’t feel you against me?” She moved her ass back against him, and a shallow moan escaped his lips as an answer. “When I kiss Carla, it’s not the same as when I kiss you,” she said quietly. “You’re like electricity. That’s how a kiss should feel, isn’t it?”
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to think about her kissing Carla, but he couldn’t deny the truth to her words. They just sat there, breathing with each other, waiting to see what the other did.
Dash knew that he should stand up and walk away and let whatever moment they were having pass. After all, Sophie wanted a real relationship, and he couldn’t give her that. But then she swiveled her stool so she faced him and closed the small distance between by pressing her lips to his.
He pulled her onto his lap, and she wrapped her clay-covered hands behind his neck and wove her fingers through his hair. She ground her softness against his hardness and another deeper moan passed through him.
She took his bottom lip in her teeth and gave him a nip. “Why can’t I stop kissing you, like, ever?”
“I guess you want to get electrocuted. Get it? Because you called me electricity?”
“You are so corny.” But she laughed against his mouth, and her forehead fell to his shoulder. He took the opportunity to slip her earlobe between his teeth and gently bite. She looked up and placed her hands on either side of his face. When she licked her lips, her eyes searched his. “I know you don’t want a relationship, but I can’t stop touching you. Does that make me a bad person?”
What did Dash really know about what a bad person was? He’d been a bad person plenty of times, especially when he’d been drinking. “I don’t want you to feel bad about what I’m about to do to you. I want you to want it. And if you don’t, then we need to stop.”
“I want it. This is what I’ve been missing. This thing that lights up my whole body.” Her thumb stroked along the edge of his jaw, and then she pressed her lips hard against his.
He understood exactly what she’d meant. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head either. And ever since she’d come into his life a few weeks ago, he’d finally felt like he was waking up—like all of him was alive for the first time in years.
“I made that dish for you,” he said.
“I know.” She bit across his neck. He placed his hands under her ass, wrapped her legs around him, and began to carry her back toward the door.
“We’re very dirty.” She trailed a clay-covered finger down the front of her chest and in between her breasts.
Dash took in Sophie’s hands, which were covered in dry clay, and the little bits of gray speckling her cheeks. “You’re filthy.”
“You have no idea,” she whispered against his ear.
He undressed her as they tumbled through the door, setting her down so he could lift her dress over her head, unclasping her bra, and letting her breasts come free. She lifted the corner of his T-shirt, and he helped her peel it off. When they got to his room, she was only wearing panties and he was unbuckling his jeans.
“Sophie.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, nervous she wouldn’t want all of him. “We don’t have to, but I want to…”
Sophie was busy bringing her panties down her legs but stopped and looked up. “Are you, um, ready?”
“I’m ready,” Dash said.
“Oh, thank God.” Sophie’s mouth turned into a grateful smile, and he licked his lips.
He was going to make sure she was grateful every single second, and he was going to take his time.
27
SOPHIE
Sophie vividly remembered being on submission for her first book with her agent. A terrible time when her manuscript was sent out to publishers for consideration. She’d waited two months before they got a nibble from the publisher who eventually bought her book.
But that wait seemed like nothing compared to the few weeks Sophie had spent waiting for Dash.
“I’m STI-free and on birth control.” She hopped on one foot as she took her underwear all the way off. “Do you have condoms?”
She threw the panties at him, and he nodded. “I do. And I was tested six months ago. No STIs.”
Sophie clasped her hands together, looked up to the ceiling and said, “Thank you, whoever is up there.” What was this, her birthday?