Chapter 16

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I followed Dillon down the hall, doing my best to maintain my composure. My heart pounded inside my chest. With every step I took, it hammered home the fact that I'd made a decision that would change my life and Dillon's forever.

Deep inside, I wanted this. I knew I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help the emotions roiling deep within me. Not now. Not ever.

I'd been given the unexpected opportunity of being able to meet him and his friends. Despite the fact that they were such a crazy bunch, I enjoyed their company. They'd given me a glimpse of what their world was like. Chaotic, at best, it was a world none of them ever dreamed of leaving. A world that suited them with every passing second. A world I realized I'd never truly be a part of.

I pushed that thought to the back of my mind, berating myself for ever thinking of it. Risks were meant to be taken. I meant to enjoy this moment for all it was worth.

Dillon glanced over his left shoulder and smiled. He squeezed my hand and let go of it before sliding his hand into his jeans' pocket. With a flick of his hand, he pulled out his suite's key card.

We came to a stop in front of the door.

He swiped the card and unlocked it, holding the door open for me.

I walked past him and released a pent-up breath. Images of what we'd soon be doing tumbled through my mind. I shook my head to clear it and made my way to the large sofa. I sat down and pushed my trembling hands beneath my thighs.

Dillon shut the door and set the lock before marching past and hurrying over to the mini bar. He filled two glasses with a shot of vodka and cranberry juice.

"Nervous?" he asked, grabbing the drinks and heading in my direction.

"That's an understatement," I said, pulling my hands out from underneath me and accepting one of the glasses.

I knocked the drink back in one gulp.

He chuckled and downed his glass. "Want another?"

I nodded and grinned. "Yes, please."

Dillon set his empty glass down on the coffee table. He stood and rushed toward the mini bar, grabbing the bottle of vodka and the half-finished bottle of cranberry juice.

"For someone who doesn't drink, you knocked the drink back like a pro," he said, making his way back over to me.

He refilled our glasses and sat down.

"I've had a drink or two in the past. I just don't like drinking much in general."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

I raised my glass, holding it in front of my face. "We need to talk, you know," I replied, using my fingers to slowly turn the glass around.

The rosy-amber liquid sloshed from side to side. Not once, did I spill a drop.

Dillon reached out to grab my right wrist. Using his free hand, he plucked the glass from between my fingers and set it down on the table.

"You're not used to something like this."

I bit my lower lip and tucked my chin against my chest. "I think that's a given."

The pad of his thumb slid across the pulse at the base of my wrist.

Dillon's soft touch excited me. Startled by the realization, I yanked on my wrist, intent on dislodging it from his grasp.

His fingers tightened around my wrist. Dillon leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine.

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