Turn Me On. Dylan Rose

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Turn Me On - Dylan Rose Mills & Boon Dare

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all the sensations she was feeling, making it even more difficult to keep quiet and not arouse the suspicion of the other passengers.

      Gregor kept a firm grip on her ass. His motions were quick and deliberate, his eyes flashing with lust as he expertly drilled her, clearly stifling his own need to grunt or make any kind of sound. Wanting to be somehow even closer to him, Faye tilted her pelvis upward so that with each stroke she could feel his body graze up against her clitoris, which sent shivers running up her spine. It was the most pleasurable feeling she had even known—the fullness of Gregor’s manhood inside her combined with the friction against that sensitive nub of nerves. In a moment her hands were in his hair and she pressed her mouth into his shoulder, trying to stop herself from coming. It was no use, as her body exploded in the biggest orgasm she’d ever experienced.

      “Oh!” Faye cried out, waking up groggy in her seat. When she realized she’d been dreaming she instinctively clenched her wrap up close around her throat, covering herself as best she could from the curious eyes of her neighbors in the first-class cabin, and the handsome man seated next to her.

      “Someone had a nice nap,” Gregor said devilishly, raising an eyebrow at her. Faye quickly sat up, mortified that she had been pressed up against a man she hardly knew. At least he didn’t know what she’d been dreaming. Or she hoped she hadn’t said anything in her sleep that would give him a clue.

      “I’m so sorry,” Faye said, reaching into her bag for the water bottle she’d purchased back at the terminal and taking a big sip. Her mouth was dry and she felt totally disoriented.

      “Not at all,” Gregor said kindly.

      Faye reached for her bag again and this time, slung it over her shoulder. “Will you excuse me?”

      Gregor stood up to allow Faye to pass into the aisle, but even as he tried to make room, their legs brushed up against each other’s, causing Faye to recoil. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being in close contact with the Englishman, it was that she was too afraid of revealing her not-so-mild attraction to him.

      When she reached the bathroom, Faye pushed the door open and locked it behind her. Splashing cold water on her face, but being careful not to wet her mascara, she tried to snap herself out of whatever reverie she was indulging in. Grabbing some paper towels, she looked down at the sink and vividly recalled some of the key scenes from her very dirty dream about Gregor. And although the dream wasn’t real, the reaction of her body was. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so frustrated with herself and at the same time, so turned on.

      So it was possible she could feel like this again! she thought to herself. After her wedding was canceled, it seemed like her nether regions had dried up like the Sahara. It startled her to think that Gregor could arouse such a primal, physical reaction in her. She was just getting used to leading a sexless existence, but here was proof that she could still get those butterfly feelings—and then some! Fixing her lip gloss and running a brush through her hair, the sensible side of Faye took over. Even if she had been turned on by a dream, that was much different from getting turned on in real life. She unlocked the door and made her way back toward her seat.

      “Feeling better?” Gregor asked, flashing Faye a knowing look as she slid past him and took her seat.

      “I’m fine, thank you,” she responded. She looked down at Gregor’s tray table and saw that he was reviewing the file folder Bev had given her.

      “This is some pretty intense reading,” he said, paging through the clippings. “Guy seems like a bit of a wanker.”

      “Hey! That’s my research,” Faye said defensively. “It must have fallen out of my bag.”

      Gregor closed the folder and looked Faye directly in the eyes. It was eerily just like in the dream. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, his tone turning serious. “If I’m going to do this interview, then it can’t be any of these canned questions. No, ‘what’s your go-to recipe’ or ‘your favorite holiday destination’ crap. I want us to have a real conversation. Does that make sense?”

      “Of course,” Faye said, sliding the folder off his tray table and back into her bag.

      “I don’t mean to criticize, it’s just that I want this to be genuine,” he said. Faye could see that he was struggling to put all his thoughts and feelings into words. “I’ll make you a promise,” he said, leaning in closer toward her, so much that she could smell that manly, heady scent of him again. “I’ll be completely open with you. If you do the same with me.”

      Faye shifted in her seat, feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortable. “Well,” she answered carefully, “this interview isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

      “True,” Gregor said, his tone growing even more direct, “but if there’s to be trust, I need to know that you’re being honest with me.”

      “Okay,” Faye acquiesced. “What do you want to know?”

      Gregor leaned in to whisper in Faye’s ear. He was so close, she could feel the bristle of his whiskers against her cheek. “When was the last time you were touched, I mean really touched?”

      Faye’s cheeks instinctively burned hot. “Excuse me?” she hissed in a hushed tone.

      Gregor turned his head so that their eyes were locked on each other’s. “I can tell when someone is lonely. I’ve met lots of people in my line of work. It’s like a signal people send out when they need contact.”

      Faye’s cheeks burned even hotter, not because Gregor was wrong, but because he was so very right.

      “Maybe you’re right, but it’s still none of your business,” she said. And with that, Faye reached into her bag, pulled out her headphones and turned her attention to the screen in front of her for the duration of the flight.

      When the plane finally landed in Heathrow, Faye was looking cool, calm and collected on the outside, but inside she was completely stressed out. Somehow, she was no longer on speaking terms with the person she was supposed to be interviewing. She vowed to herself to keep her personal feelings out of it and focus on the task at hand.

      As they walked from the gate to baggage claim, Faye wondered why Gregor was so intent on figuring her out. Maybe it was a way to deflect attention off himself. Was he afraid of revealing too much? Was there something in his past he’d rather forget? She watched as a little boy walking with his family dropped his stuffed animal. Without a second thought, Gregor grabbed the doll and sprinted toward the family, calling out to them until the little boy was reunited with his bear. Faye watched a second longer as the family recognized him. Gregor gamely posed for selfies with each of the family members, including the stuffed bear. So he was a good guy, too, Faye thought, almost wishing it wasn’t so. If he was an asshole, it would be so much easier to dismiss him, to put thoughts of him out of her mind.

      As they left the baggage claim, each with a suitcase, Gregor headed to the parking lot and Faye followed. By the time they reached his car, a glistening black Miata, she was happy to be inside and get warm. Sliding into the passenger seat, Faye looked out the window as Gregor started the engine.

      “I’m sorry about what I said back there, about your…” Gregor started and then trailed off. “None of my bloody business.”

      “That’s right,” Faye said matter-of-factly, in the most curt tone she could muster. Still, she couldn’t help but allow a smile to cross her lips. It was delightful, knowing he was worried he had offended

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