Dylan delicately touched her hair as if she were the most fragile thing to him. He slowly drew a finger across her cheek, along her jawline, and down her neck. That single finger trailing over her damp flesh was the most sensual thing she’d ever felt. He hooked the finger in her towel, right where she clutched the stiff white terry to her breasts. Her chest heaved.

Dylan lifted his eyes to hers and held her gaze for an intense, drawn-out moment.

“What happens on the road . . . ,” he began and cocked a brow.

“Stays on the road,” she finished with a whisper. Her heart beat once. Twice. She let go of the towel. It fell at her feet.

Dylan’s eyes followed. He sharply inhaled. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Her entire body flushed. She looked at the towel on the carpet as his words sank in. They settled in her stomach before spreading outward, lighting her up. She’d never had such a strong reaction to a man’s compliment. She’d never felt so aroused by a simple statement.

“Dylan,” she whispered, looking up at him. She ached everywhere. She ached for him.

He cradled her face and kissed her. The kiss started out light and gentle until Joy moaned, swept her hands to his head, and tightly grasped his hair. The kiss changed, deepened, and the embers crackling between them ignited.

Dylan kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed better than he could dance. She would even say that he kissed better than he could sing, and if she wasn’t careful, she could drown in his kisses. She could drown in him.

Joy threw her arms around his neck and Dylan’s arms curved around her lower back. Without breaking their kiss, he straightened, lifting her with him. She wrapped her legs around his hips. He carried her to the bed that was clear of their stuff and gently laid her on top of the covers.

She watched him push down his boxer briefs and his gaze roam over her body, taking her in as if absorbing the fact that she was there with him, that this—them—was really happening. That was exactly how Joy was looking at him.

His pupils dilated and his breathing quickened. His hand trembled when he skimmed his fingers along her shoulder, over her left breast, and dipped into the concave of her belly. Joy inhaled sharply at the contact. He didn’t stop until he reached her toes.

She lifted to her elbows and Dylan raised his head. Their eyes met and he smiled. So did Joy, her heart beating wildly.

“You good?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“So good.” She reached for him.

Dylan climbed over her, the bed dipping underneath his weight, and kissed his way up her body. He worshipped her center until she exploded and colors swirled in her line of vision.