Page 41 of The Cowboy's Cabaret

I don’t want to push if she truly doesn’t want more with me, but sometimes I swear she feels the same way. I see it in the way she watches me when she thinks I don’t see, in the way she gravitates to my side whenever we’re together. She turns and her eyes light up when they lock on me. I would do anything to see that expression pointed at me every day.

The concert is fun as fuck and as expected, the show is killer. The crowd is rowdy in the best way and you can feel the energy as we all smashed together. Dahlia stands in front of me so she can see and a few times the crowd pushes her back into me. I may have taken advantage of the limited space and held onto her longer than necessary when she leaned against my chest.

When the confetti rains on us from the rafters and the lights illuminate the stadium, the show comes to a close. After grabbing shirts from the merch table, Dahlia suggests we pick up pizza and head to the hotel.

Once we’reall checked in, we head to the room. The hotel had a mix up with the reservation and we ended up with two twin beds. I didn’t even know hotels had rooms with twin beds, but needless to say the one bed trope is not happening here tonight.

“Okay, these beds are so tiny. How is your big ass going to fit?” She points between me and the bed. “Your legs are for sure hanging off the end.”

I leap onto the bed and my feet do hang off the end a little. I put my hands behind my head. “It’ll do for tonight,” I say with a smirk.

She moves the pizza we picked up to the small side table before grabbing her toiletry bag and heading to the bathroom. I kick off my sneakers and scroll my phone until she emerges mostly bare faced from the bathroom in pajamas. Her version of pajamas: a gigantic T-shirt hiding what I pray are bottoms underneath because the thought of her bare pussy in such close proximity has me ready to jump out the window.

Dahlia comes to my bed and I move my legs so she can sit. She sits cross-legged in front of me with a makeup wipe in her hand. “I can’t get this last bit of eyeliner off and it’s driving me insane. Can you try?” She hands me the wipe and I straighten up to have better access to her. “It’s on like fucking permanent marker. I tried a new brand and it’s definitely long lasting.” She huffs.

She closes her eyes and leans into me as I hold her chin in my hands and gently start to wipe away at the corner of her eye. I don’t even know if I’m breathing at this point and my heart is pounding out of my chest. “Sorry, I don’t want to be too rough. It’s starting to come off a bit now.”

“Guess you have the magic touch, huh?” She sounds breathy now, is she turned on?

“Guess so.” My voice is gravely now, and I work down a swallow. She opens her lids slowly and our eyes meet. I’m still holding her chin in my rough hands and our knees are touching.

It feels like we’re frozen in time, like we’re the only two people in existence at this moment. Her gaze drops to my lips and back up, mine does the same. I start to lean in, because I decide I have to kiss her now.

Fuck the consequences. Fuck being just friends.

I smell the mint of her toothpaste as I start to brush my lips against hers when she jumps back, falling off the miniature bed.

“Ice! We don’t have ice, do we? For the pizza? I mean the soda…the soda we grabbed. I don’t want warm soda, do you? Warm soda is the worst!” She’s literally scrambling backwards trying to stand up and she’s talking at light-speed.

“Um, yeah I think I saw the ice machine down the hallway. Look Dahlia, I’m sor—”. She cuts me off.

“No, no apology! I was being so fucking weird. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m going to go grab ice, okay?” She’s near shouting in a high-pitched voice as she flings the door open and leaves.

Fuck. I cover my face in my hands, feeling like the worst person on Earth. Not only did I almost kiss her, I made her so uncomfortable she had to fake an excuse and run out of our shared room like her ass was on fire. I should offer to get another room, so she can have her space without worrying I’m going to maul her. Goddamn it. I need to apologize first and she reallyshouldn’t be wandering the hotel hallways alone this late. I’m such a dick.

I grab my room key and pull open the door only to find a breathless Dahlia with a raised fist, poised to knock.

She rushes out, “I didn’t even grab the ice bucket.” Then she grabs the front of my shirt to pull me down to her and smashes her lips into mine.

THIRTY-ONE

fucking friends!

Dahlia

Holy shit.Holy shit. I’m kissing Wesley. He leans down further and picks me up, backing us into the room. I can’t stop kissing him. It’s even better than I dreamed of. His big hands grip my ass under my T-shirt and I swear he growls as his fingertips kiss the hem of my panties.

“Fuck. Dahlia, you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” He’s breathing heavily, his forehead against mine.

“Me too. I’ve wanted you for so long. I was scared. Iamscared. But I can’t lie to myself or you anymore and say I don’t want to kiss the fuck out of you every time I see you.”

He nips at my bottom lip and moves to trace my jaw with licks and kisses. We separate our mouths long enough for him to carry me to his bed where he lays me down. I feel like I’m on fire as he stands over me, eyes wild as he looks down to where I’m sprawled out. My shirt has ridden up and his gaze is fixed at my center where I’m sure a damp spot is forming on the light pink panties I’m wearing. He’s holding himself back, clenched knuckles and his jaw set tight.

“Do you want me, Wes?” I practically purr the words as I toy with the lace trim.

He looks at me in disbelief. “Want is not a strong enough word for the feelings I have for you. I want to win the lottery. I want to eat pizza for dinner. I need you, Dahlia. Ineedto worship this beautiful fucking body. I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”

My panties? Incinerated. I think my clit has a heartbeat.