Free Loving Dallas by Caisey Quinn

She’d fucking slapped me. The sweetest girl I’ve ever known slapped me hard enough to make my ears ring and I’d never been more turned on in my life.
    She said she hated me. Not that she was pissed or still holding a grudge—fucking hated me. I knew she didn’t mean it, but there was something about the challenge in the words, the defiance. I knew she didn’t mean it and I needed to hear that sexy mouth say sweeter words.
    I couldn’t leave it like that, couldn’t leave her like that. Years ago I’d let Robyn go, walked away because she’d asked me to. Then I’d behaved like a complete ass afterward. And Robyn, my tough girl, had always just said it was okay. It was fine. She understood. She could handle it.
    She could handle anything, always. Nothing rattled her or set her off. Robyn liked to be in control.
    But tonight I’d caused her to lose that control, watched her let loose on me and everything I’d held in from the moment I saw her came roaring to the surface, possessing me and propelling my body to hers in a fusion of frustration and lust-filled fantasies come to life.
    Tearing at her clothing as we make our way to my hotel room, I have no regrets.
    “I want you so fucking bad, Robyn,” I tell her, because it’s the truth. “I barely made it through that fucking meal.”
    “You have me,” she tells me before sucking my bottom lip into her luscious mouth.
    I don’t even want to admit to myself how long I’ve waited for her to say those words.
    “Not yet. But I will.”
    Pulling apart long enough for me to slide my key card through the slot on the door, we both take the opportunity to catch our breath.
    The last thing I want to do is to rush this. I want to take my time with her, show her my passionate appreciation for every inch of her body until the sun comes up. But I’m afraid if I give her too much time to think, she’ll remember all the reasons why this is a bad idea and the past will become a roadblock we can’t overcome.
    The second she steps into the room, I pin her against the wall and tear the blazer, jacket, whatever the hell it is, from her shoulders. Taking advantage of its absence, I fasten my mouth hotly to her neck. The gratifying noises she makes in response send shocks of pleasure through my chest and straight down to my dick.
    “You still smell and taste like strawberries.” My tongue ventures to the sensitive spot behind her ear that always rendered her boneless in my arms. Thank fuck it still does. “Let’s see if you taste the same everywhere else, shall we?”
    Either she’s cold without the jacket or my words make her shiver. I don’t take the time to ask. Instead I drop to my knees with every intention of worshipping her in this position for as long as she can stand, both literally and metaphorically speaking.
    “Dallas.” There’s a wary edge to her voice. She’s afraid. I don’t blame her. I’m the furthest thing from a safe bet that there is. I’m starved for her and she has to know that by now.
    “Shh. I got you, baby. Tonight, I got you.”
    I can’t promise her anything beyond that and we both know it. She doesn’t protest when I hook my fingers between the lace and cotton parts of her panties and pull them down. Without a word, she watches me while stepping out of them.
    “Good girl,” I murmur, placing my mouth on her bare inner thigh.
    Her head lolls back, bumping gently against the wall as I tease a circle around her petite folds with my tongue. Though she’s certainly trimming a little more these days, her sweet center is nearly the same as I remember. Delicate and delicious. Her scent calls to me, awakens the possessive streak in me. I want to strip her bare and fuck her hard against the window, shouting to everyone in hearing distance that she is motherfucking mine. But that might be frowned upon by the hotel, so I do my best to smother that urge.
    Each stroke of my tongue opens her wider for me until I am dead center, lashing