Copyright © Lovy Books Ltd, 2019
Summer Cooper has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Lovy Books Ltd
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Contents
1. Emily
2. Emily
3. Emily
4. Emily
5. Dylan
6. Emily
7. Dylan
8. Emily
9. Dylan
10. Dylan
11. Emily
12. Emily
13. Emily
14. Emily
15. Emily
16. Dylan
17. Dylan
18. Emily
19. Emily
20. Emily
Personal Note
Summer Cooper
Emily
“Are you ready to open it, Emily?” Dylan’s voice above me broke the peaceful quiet I’d wrapped myself in. “It might wreak havoc, but you have me. I’m here with you.”
Where you belong, I thought to myself. I snuggled closer for a moment longer, and then I pulled away. I wasn’t a weak schoolgirl who needed a man to hold my hand through life. I did need a partner who would be there with me, though. I took a deep breath, sat up straight, and looked up into the most beautiful gray eyes I’d ever seen.
“I am. Let’s see what Mister High and Mighty has in store now.” I took the envelope from him, no bigger than a birthday card, and not too thick, and let my feet slide to the floor. I’d changed when I came home earlier, a pair of black shorts and a long white t-shirt.
I stared down at my turquoise blue toenails and held my breath. I had to do this the same way I’d rip a Band-Aid off, quickly and with no emotion. I inhaled, stuck my finger in the gap in the flap, and ripped it open. I took out the contents, and found two pages of typed paper. It was the thick kind my family used in their business operations, and I could see the words Thompson Resorts running through the grain.
Handwritten on cheap printer paper would have been warmer than this cold communication, but it was Trent. I wasn’t even surprised to see his name signed at the bottom of page two, the same as he’d sign any business communication. I looked over at Dylan with doubt, but brought page one to the front to start to read.
“Dear Emily,” I read aloud, “I hope you open this letter, because I’ve been a real jerk and need to apologize.”
My words stuttered to a halt, and I glanced over at Dylan, my eyes narrowed. “A trick, you think?”
“I … don’t know, Emily. You know your brother better than I do.” He pulled me to him, and I cuddled into his side. The worst of it was over now. I needed his warmth to calm the surge of adrenaline that had rushed through me.
I’d expected another gut-wrenching letter, and my stomach was still in a defensive knot. Trent was either sorry, or he was trying a new tactic. I didn’t trust this one bit.
“What else does he say?” Dylan asked, his chin on the top of my head.
“Um, he says he talked with his wife about it all, and that she nearly tore his head off. I don’t doubt that, but why a letter? Why didn’t she call me after this revelation?”
“Did she know?” he asked, his fingers on my shoulder.
“She must have; how else would he have explained blackballing me from the family?” I turned my head enough to look up at him and found our lips pressed together instead.
That made me giggle, and I kissed him properly before I turned back to the paper. “I’ve watched the children you used to take care of … ah, I get it—they need a babysitter.”
“Maybe not, sweetheart, give it a chance.” He nudged me a little, and I read on.
“The kids all miss their aunt, the wives miss their friend.” That made me pause and snort with laughter. “The wives miss their friend? They missed me so much they forgot my birthday?”
“Emily…” Dylan dragged out my name, and I sighed.
“I know, I know. Let’s see, oh right. Your mother and our father miss you. I have to admit, even I miss you. It’s strange not having you around to kick me into gear when I need it.” Another sigh. “Again, it’s about how they feel. Not what they’ve put me through.”
I’d let the paper fall to my lap and stared up at the ceiling. “They haven’t learned.”
“They’re starting to, though, Emily. Writing that must have taken a lot for a man like Trent. Well, the man as I’ve experienced him, and you’ve explained him to me.”
“He’s not the most, um, gallant of men, no.” My brother could be a self-righteous asshole of the highest order, actually.
“Give them all a chance.”
I didn’t want to, though. Trent hadn’t even given me a chance to explain the situation. Although, to be fair, I hadn’t really sought out a chance to do that. I’d avoided him. I shouldn’t have, but I knew even then that Dylan was important to me, and well, now I knew that I loved him. I wanted this to work, and Trent was a threat to that. I didn’t want to let him back into my life. Not if he was going to go off and do something like this again.
“Maybe he’s seen the error of his ways?” Even I could hear the doubt in Dylan’s voice and looked up at him, a little miffed.
“Why are you defending him so much? The man tried to keep you out of the business here.” I stared at him and saw his face twist a little.
“It’s not easy for me, you know? As you said, he gave me hell too. He’s your brother, and family is important. I never had brothers or sisters, and it was probably best I didn’t. When I was a kid, though, I always wanted a brother. Someone to play with when I was lonely.”
“Are you really buying this then?” I waved the paper to show what I meant.
“I don’t know, Emily.” He sighed and shifted to sit up on the sofa. “I don’t trust him for a minute, but like I said, you know him best. Would he try to play some trick on you like that?”
“He would,” I said without a second of doubt. I’d grown up with him, and the man he was around Jessi wasn’t the same man he was around his family. He could be ruthless, mean, and downright dirty when he wanted to be; not with Jessi.
“Then take some time and think about it. For tonight”—Dylan paused to take the letter from me—“let me feed you to dinner, and you can relax for a bit. You look tired. Do you want to stay in and order something?”
“Let’s order food. I look grubby, and I don’t want to see anyone but you tonight.” I leaned against him, and he took me in his arms.
Immediately, the world faded away, and there was only Dylan’s face and the safety of his arms. I relaxed and sighed. “Maybe we can try out that hot tub.”
“Now that sounds like a plan. Let me order food, and we’ll get set up.”
I went out to make sure everything was right for a dip, the air was still a bit chilly but not bad, and then went into the kitchen. I cleaned out the pot the pasta had caught fire in and the rest of the dishes. I wasn’t used to this kind of life, but I wasn’t a bad cook. I’d had too much on my mind with that stupid letter, and I’d let Trent get to me. I shouldn’t have allowed that, but I had.
I didn’t know what to do about the mess my brothe
r had put me in. He’d said he was sorry, wanted to rebuild our ties to each other. He wanted to meet us both, Dylan and I, over dinner to talk things through. Maybe Jessi had smoothed things over, but it still nagged at me that she hadn’t called. Trent could have given her the number, or she could have contacted me on social media. I hadn’t changed any of that.
I hadn’t heard from any of them, though. I was persona non grata, and they’d let me know it, all of them. Until I’d started to move on with my life. Now that Dylan and I had agreed to share a home and our lives together, they’d decided to come back. As always, it was on their terms too.
Trent wanted to meet us. He didn’t ask me if I’d like to meet or where. He’d just said, I’d like to meet you over dinner. I realized I’d been drying the same pot for a very long time and put it down. Yet again, Trent was interrupting my life.
I wanted to celebrate the new life I had with Dylan and, for tonight, my family could wait. I had a new person in my life, a new life, and he’d earned every bit of my love and trust. He’d pushed me over the edge of endurance sometimes, he’d pushed me to be more every single day, and I loved him for it.
He could have given up, said fuck it, and walked away when I didn’t want to sign contracts. He could’ve found someone more willing to do what he wanted for the money he offered, but I’d never been in it for the money. I’d been in it for pleasure and nothing more. He’d sensed that, knew it, and together we’d created something worth fighting for.
I would fight my family if it came down to it, I would refuse to see any of them, if it was a choice between them and Dylan. They’d shown me their colors, and Dylan’s hadn’t run. I owed it to him to let this go for tonight. He had his own demons to face down, and we had work to do. We’d do them both, together.
I poured two glasses of chilled white wine and took them into his office. It was simply decorated, a small desk, his laptop, and a couch. A couch that needed breaking in, I thought with a dirty smirk. “Get something ordered?”
Dylan pushed away from his chair, his Oxford shirt open at the throat, and the charcoal gray trousers begging to be opened. He held his arms out to me, and I went to him. I knelt in front of him, eager to please and ready for his love. “I did, darling. Your favorite Chinese will be here shortly.”
“Oh, that sounds yummy, but I know something that tastes like heaven, right here at home.” I let my fingers trail down the zipper of his trousers and licked my lips. My eyes were on his face, and I watched his gaze flick between my fingers and my lips with satisfaction. He was tempted then.
“There’s nothing more I’d like than to watch your lips wrap around my dick, Emily, but they’ll be here soon. I think we should wait.” His fingers slid along mine, and I pressed them into the rigid length beneath his zipper, belying his words.
“Darling,” I pouted with a wet smile. “I’ve thought about it all day long.”
Not a lie. I always had Dylan and sex in the back of my mind somewhere.
“You can wait another hour, pet.” His tongue darted out for a moment, but dragged it a little across his bottom lip on the way back in. He wanted to taste me, and I felt a response deep between my thighs.
“If I must.” I squeezed a little harder on his length, then stood. I leaned over to kiss him before he could respond. Our lips met with a passion that hadn’t dimmed at all, and he inhaled deeply. I felt his fingers run up my face and into my hair, as he deepened the kiss and turned it into something that was so much hotter.
I moaned into his mouth and pulled him up from the chair. Our lips never parted as I backed up against the wall. With a groan of resignation, filled with desire, Dylan picked me up and pressed me into the wall. I felt him pressing into me in just the right way and wrapped my legs around him with glee.
He broke the kiss and looked down at me. “You fucking little tease. You just want to get off before you eat, don’t you?”
“You know me well, sir.” I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, but smiled that dirty smile he’d taught me.
“If that’s what you want, I don’t mind meeting the delivery boy with your scent all over my face.”
Something clenched inside of me, and I screamed with joy when he turned and dropped me on the desk. He stripped my shorts away as he knelt in front of me, spread my legs, and found the part of me that ached the most for him with his tongue.
“Dylan…” I sighed his name, my fingers in his hair. My head fell back, and I ground into him as his tongue worked at me. Quickly, and with an expert touch, Dylan’s tongue slicked over my clit, until my hips danced on the edge of the desk.
My legs were hitched over his shoulder, and I wanted to lean back, but the desk wasn’t wide enough. I had to make do with pressing my palms into the oak top and writhing against him. It wouldn’t take long, not when he wanted to make me come quickly. It never did, because he knew exactly what I liked.
“Baby, Dylan, fuck, make me come. Please.” It wasn’t necessary to beg, but the words came out just the same. He didn’t bother to answer, except to slide two fingers inside of me. As soon as he did, my walls went tight around his fingers, and my breath stopped. I could feel it, just out of reach. Just a little more … and then his fingers began to slide in and out of me, in time with his tongue.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s it, Dylan.” The world exploded, and I gave myself up to the first explosion.
He didn’t stop. He made sure the job was done right, and carried on until I begged him to let it end. That was about the time we heard the doorbell going. Our food was here.
Dylan stood, wiped his face, smirked at me and went to get the food. I put my shorts on as I listened to the exchange in the hallway with wobbly legs. I wondered if he’d consent to videoing that. I’d love to watch the whole thing from the outside, so to speak. The way he touched me, the way I responded. I considered it as I went into the kitchen. He was there, and I went up to kiss him.
I could smell my scent on him, and from the look in his eyes, I knew I’d have to eat quickly. He was ready for far more than cunnilingus on his office desk, and I was more than willing to satisfy. We didn’t have a playroom here. We’d gone beyond that kind of thing and could go to Elmo’s for that if we wanted it. Which gave me another idea, one I’d discuss with him later. When the thought of letting others watch me would drive him mad with desire.
Emily
I thought about that letter off and on over the next two weeks. I really wanted to just forget the whole thing and let it go, but something wouldn’t let me. Maybe it was that part of me had once been a little girl who looked up to her older brother. Or the grown woman who wanted to be seen. I wasn't sure, but I couldn’t let it go. I knew I should make a decision, and I knew Dylan would support whatever I decided.
That didn’t mean I wanted to, though. There was also a part of me that said, let them all stew for a while. I wasn’t normally vindictive, but I wasn’t perfect either. Something ugly and mean in me said they needed to learn. They hadn’t learned when I’d made it clear I was unhappy. They hadn’t learned when I point-blank said that they took me for granted. No, they’d just gone on as if I hadn’t said anything at all. Well, now they’d know what it was like to wonder and to worry maybe.
I went about my job and lived through each day as much as I could with happiness. Three days had now passed since I’d read the stupid thing, and I was a bundle of nerves I screeched when my phone buzzed. It had been so quiet, and I’d been so engrossed in my thoughts that the sound startled me.
“Hello?” I said, even though I knew it was Dylan. I slid my Louboutin heels off and smiled. “What can I do for you, handsome?”
“I’m your superior, my dear. Shouldn’t you call me sir, or Mr. James, perhaps?” His voice purred down the line, and my head swiveled into my shoulder with glee.
“Mm, I probably should. Maybe you should come up here and instruct me on how to answer your calls properly?” My voice was breathy, a sound I’d cringe at if I ever use
d it on anyone but Dylan. Although, he had said I’d make a fortune as a phone sex operator. I wasn’t sure those were still a thing, but he knew best.
“I’d do you one better, pet. Pack a bag or two. I’m going to take you away for the weekend. Back to that little cabin in the woods. Where I can teach you so many things, pet, so many things.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun, sir. I’m not sure I want to go away this weekend. Maybe I’d like to stay home.”
“I think you’ll do as I say, pet.” His voice became stern, quiet, but only because someone must have entered the room. Otherwise, he’d have remained playful.
“Where are you?” I asked, curiously.
“I’m at Elmo’s. I needed Roxie to arrange a few things for me.”
“Hmm. Now what could Roxie possibly arrange for you, Dylan?” I wondered if it had anything to do with the things I’d said to him a few nights ago.
“Things, my dear. Now, pack your bags like a good girl. Don’t be difficult.”
“Of course not, sir. I will be ready.” He hadn’t said a time, but that didn’t matter. I hung up the phone and went up to our penthouse. I loaded a travel bag with the clothes I’d need up there: a pair of jeans, some underwear, and a sweatshirt. I packed a warm nightgown, just in case, and added a few pair of socks.
There was a washer if I needed to wash my clothes, but I knew I’d barely have any on the entire time we were there. There were robes, food, a few other things up there, in case anyone needed them. I packed my toiletries, medicine, and a laptop. I might want to watch a movie or something on the plane. Once we were there, Dylan would keep my busy.
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