by Selena Blake
Her smile turned to a sexy little pout. “I’m not stopping you.”
He leaned forward and another knock interrupted them.
Sighing, he pushed away from her. After entering his room, he pulled on some pants and then returned to the hallway. She was still there, a little dreamy eyed as she held the towel up.
“What time is your lunch?” he asked, pausing in front of her.
“Eleven thirty.”
“I’ll see you at eleven thirty, then.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, knowing if he went for her lips he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Be careful out there,” she called as he went to answer the door.
Yes, he could definitely get used to a sendoff like that.
6
Reya was so focused on work that she didn't realize it was eleven thirty until Dylan came through the back door. He was shirtless, again, and had an adorable smudge of dirt across his left cheek.
She popped up from her chair and made a beeline to the kitchen. “Sorry, I got wrapped up with work. Let me start on lunch.”
He snagged a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. She went willingly. But when it came to Dylan Harper, she'd never fought her attraction to him.
“We're going out for lunch.”
“We are?” Since when?
“I'm taking you out. I've got to stop by the paint store anyway. This way, we get to eat and you don't have to cook.”
“But I like cooking.” Correction, she liked cooking for him. She liked hearing his stomach growl. She enjoyed seeing the look of pleasure on his face when he tasted something she'd prepared. And she loved his exclamations.
“And I like to eat your food.”
“If we're going out, don't you need a shirt?” she asked, flexing her fingers against his amazing pecs. “Not that I'm complaining.”
“You're not, huh?”
Oh dear. When he looked at her like that she was one heartbeat away from stripping naked, to hell with who could see her through the kitchen window.
“Nope,” she squeaked as he pressed a rock solid erection against her belly.
“I'll go put on a shirt.”
Her gaze narrowed on the smudge of dirt.
“What?” he asked.
Reaching up, she swiped at it with her thumb. He leaned into her touch and bubbles of delight zinged through her like champagne. This...him...it was all so perfect.
“Just some dirt. I got it.”
“I want to kiss you.” The words tumbled from his lips as he stared at hers.
Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Are you asking for permission?”
“Hell no.”
For some reason she couldn't begin to explain, it really turned her on when he was all gruff and bossy. Perhaps it was because he'd always been so sweet and tender with her. The possessive, dominant side of him was new. Sure, she'd known it'd always been there. He was an alpha to his core, but he'd never used that side on her.
And yet, when Teo threw his weight around, she always resisted. Would she grow tired of Dylan's control?
“But if I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop.”
“And that's a bad thing?” She couldn't think of anything better than spending the afternoon in his arms, his lips on hers.
“Ordinarily, no. But I'm supposed to help Joe later and my order's ready at the paint store. All of which means, I won't have ample time to kiss you.”
By the way he pressed his hips against her belly she didn't think he intended to stop at kissing.
And that was fine with her.
“I'm not going anywhere, Dylan.” At least, not this week. They really needed to discuss that, but at the same time she didn’t want to think about leaving him. What she wanted was to focus on her plan for seduction.
“Good.”
They shared a picnic table in the park and a Cuban sandwich from a quaint deli.
Reya felt like she was dreaming. The whole day could have been plucked out of her teen aged fantasies. She was certainly a far cry from the hungry foster kid she'd once been.
Back then she'd only imagined days like this one. A quiet date, a perfect summer's day, good food, and complete stability.
But reality had a way of rearing its head. She’d need to find a place to rent in Switzerland. On the other hand, wasn't she getting a little old to be renting especially when house prices had never been lower? It was silly of course, to be thinking about buying a house when she was planning to travel.
“What's got your wheels spinning over there?”
“Thinking about buying versus renting.”
He took a sip of his Coke. “That's a big step.”
“No kidding. I can already hear Teo. 'Why do you want to buy? You're a single woman. Who's going to do the maintenance? I'm not going to be there to help.'”
Dylan laughed. What a beautiful sound. She tried not to think of all the time he'd spent in scary places doing dangerous things without smiling or laughing or doing anything enjoyable. And while she hated that he hadn't left the SEALs voluntarily, she was beyond thrilled to have him home, laughing, and relaxing.
“You sound just like him,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling.
“I hear his voice in my head often enough.”
“I know it's been hard on you, having him gone so much.”
“Even when he's home, he's not always here.”
Dylan nodded. He often found himself drifting into the past.
“It wasn't just Teo, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I've missed you too.”
She held eye contact and he felt something shift between them. Something small and yet significant.
“I missed you too.” Probably more than she'd ever know. “I thought about you a lot. You represented home, normalcy.”
She blinked several times.
“That's...I like that.”
He wouldn't tell her what he thought about. He'd show her.
“You done?”
He glanced at the sandwich she hadn't touched in several minutes.
Nodding, she folded the wrapper and stood. “I'll finish it later.”
Normally, he would have chatted with the folks at the paint store, but today, he wanted to get Reya home. He told himself to take it slow. They’d barely had time to get to know each other again.
And yet, it didn’t feel that way at all. If she were any other woman, he’d know exactly how this day would end. With any other woman he wouldn’t be second guessing himself every damn minute. He’d take her home, wrap her in ribbons and make her come until she fell asleep, then after she’d rested, he’d find his pleasure in her arms.
But she was Reya. Sweet, sensual, fire cracker who he’d known for fifteen years. She was his best friend’s little sister and even though Teo seemed to think that Dylan was just what Reya needed, he knew that he couldn’t afford to mess either relationship up.
He loved them both like family, couldn’t imagine his life without them.
Reya sighed and stretched after her three thirty call ended. She was pleased with the progress and sent off an email to her boss that she expected the project to wrap early next week.
After a stop at the fridge for a glass of lemonade, she poked her head out back. It was amazing what Perseus had been able to accomplish in two days. The thick, jungle-like brush was cleared out of the backyard. She could see Mable's fence again. The flowerbeds surrounding the yard were empty, except for the one running the length of the house.
Dylan had planted some sort of shrub there. And Perseus's team had put down grass seed and straw by the look of things. A sprinkler was currently watering the back half of the space.
Since Dylan wasn't out back, she turned into the house and searched him out.
“Hey,” she said, poking her head through the doorway of his room.
He'd moved all the furniture to the middle of the floor and draped a tarp over it. Two of the four walls had a fresh coat of a soft cream
paint on them that made the space feel brighter, happier and calmer than before.
“Looks great.”
“Thanks.”
She'd noticed the change in him after lunch. Somewhere between the paint store and home, he'd had a conversation with himself because he hadn't touched her again. Hadn't kissed her, and even now, he seemed to be holding himself in check.
She stepped deeper into the room. The air smelled faintly of paint, thanks to the special type he'd purchased that promised to be low odor. “I'm done corralling geeks for the day, so put me to work.”
His lips twitched as she'd known they would.
“Okay.” He nodded once and reached for something on the stack of furniture. “Put this on.”
It was an old long sleeved button up shirt. Once she’d finished buttoning it up, he handed over the roller. “Have at it,” he waved to the wall where he'd already outlined with paint.
She longed to drop the roller, close the distance between them and run her hands up his magnificent chest. Sometimes he hardly seemed real, more like a figment of her imagination come to life. But she was certainly not imagining the heated look in his eyes or the way he stared at her bare legs like he wanted them wrapped around his waist.
Instead of giving in, she decided to see what he'd do.
“I've never done this before.”
“Done what?” his deep voice rumbled behind her.
“Painted a room. Well, painted much of anything. I think finger-painting was my last experience. Somehow, I think that'd take forever.”
His chuckle sounded so close it gave her shivers; then his arms came around her and he closed his hands over hers on the roller handle.
“Like this,” he whispered against her ear. A delighted tremor quaked through her as every nerve ending stood and cheered. Her attention zoomed from where his skin touched hers to the aching points of her breasts and then south to the need that filled her like a heavy weight.
He pressed the roller against the wall and pushed it up and down in a wide W pattern, then back again filling in the empty spots. “Like this, over and over. You want this much paint so you don't splatter.”
All her brain heard was 'dip it', 'splatter' and ‘over and over.’ Another shiver stole down her spine and this time he must have felt it because he pressed closer against her back.
“Okay?”
“Mmm huh,” she replied, not sure she could trust her voice or her lips.
She was more than okay. She was blissing out and he was hardly touching her.
He didn't remove his hands, even after several passes. They'd made a large cream square in the middle of the dingy baby blue wall. She couldn't help but smile.
He might be sorting things out in his mind but his body was firmly on board. A thick, hard erection pressed against her backside.
“I think we need more paint,” she murmured.
He froze, every muscle going rigid. His arms were locked around her.
For a moment she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. It felt so incredibly good to be held like this, but she wanted more. She wanted a real connection, not just a painting lesson. She wanted all the things she’d dreamed about for so many years.
“Right.”
He dropped his arms and took a step back. She turned toward the paint tray but he halted her with a hand on her forearm. A quick jerk had her flattened against him as he cupped her jaw. The paint roller tumbled from her hand and a curse swooshed from her lips.
“Don't worry about it,” he ground out as his head descended.
His kiss was hot and demanding, not at all nurturing. Consuming, exactly what she wanted, surrounding to him. His hands held her exactly how he wanted her so all she could do was hang on tight and kiss him back.
He took three steps forward, driving her backward until she hit the wall. He ground his hips against hers and she moaned.
“Tell me to stop, Reya. If you don't—”
Pulling his head back down, she slanted her lips against his. “Is that enough of an answer for you?” she murmured a while later.
His groan sounded more like a growl but it delighted her. Then he was kissing her again, drinking from her lips as he let his hands roam. She touched everywhere she could as she hiked a leg over his hip.
Yes. This was exactly where she'd always wanted to be, whom she wanted to be with and the way his thumbs drew lazy circles over her hips was far more enticing than anything she'd ever imagined.
He slid his hands up her sides and undid her top button. Leaning back a fraction, he continued his task, his fingers brushing against the insides of her breasts. She sucked in a breath, oh so ready and completely eager to feel his hands there.
Her nipples formed hard peaks begging for his touch. But he didn't pay them any attention. He just continued with the buttons until the shirt hung open. Another growl/groan rumbled from him as he trailed a kiss down her neck.
She glanced at the textured ceiling amazed that this was finally happening. Dylan's dark hair brushed her jaw as he nipped his way across her collarbone.
He seemed to know exactly where to touch her to get her to suck in a breath. Every brush of his fingertips ramped up her excitement. Across the tops of her breasts, due south across her stomach and then out over her sides before sliding down to cup her ass.
Moaning, she tightened her fingers in his hair. He’d always had gorgeous, dark hair. Thick and slightly wavy, she’d fantasized about sinking her fingers into it for years. The reality was just as she’d suspected. It was softer than it looked.
He trailed his lips down to where her collarbones met and then nibbled his way up the other side until he nipped her earlobe.
“You are so hot,” he murmured against her skin.
“Mmm… ditto.”
“And I’ve wanted you for longer than is decent.”
She smiled and another, thicker wave of lust washed through her.
“Ditto to that too.”
He pulled back and stared into her eyes. What was he looking for? She wasn’t sure and she didn’t know if he found whatever it was but it was like he couldn’t help himself because he stared at her lips for several moments. And then he was kissing her again.
His hands pushed the shirt off her shoulders and he ran his tongue along the top and gently bit the spot where her arm and shoulder met. Her hips jolted against his. Surprise and shock met as the tiny moment of pain turned into something primitive and hot. Suddenly, she couldn’t stand anything separating them.
Squirming against him, writhing in his arms, she touched everywhere she could. Tugging his shirt up, she helped him discard it. She had just a second, which was way too short for her, to take in the delicious sight. What was it about a shirtless man in low slung jeans?
Then he was pressed against her again until she was pinned against the wall.
“You’re going to be covered in paint,” he said, his lips a hair’s width from hers. He didn’t sound the least bit remorseful about that.
Her insides quivered at the way his mouth brushed hers. Provocative and breathtaking.
“I don’t care,” she said back.
“We’ll take a shower later.”
“Much later.”
“You read my mind.”
Ready to get rid of the remainder of her clothes, she let a sultry smile curve her lips.
The masculine groan that rumbled out of him made her feel powerful and feminine. He jerked her shirt down until the cuffs dangled from her wrists. Stupid buttons. She struggled to get free.
“Stay just like that.”
“But I can’t—”
“Just like that.”
He kissed his way down her chest, stopping to dip his tongue beneath the top of her tank top. Who was she to argue with a man on a mission? Especially when his mission seemed to be getting her pants off.
The aching deep inside grew heavier and a soft, needy sound climbed up her throat.
“Easy. We’ll get there, beautiful.�
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Something inside of her melted at his words and she felt herself relax. He thought she was beautiful. If there’d been a mirror overhead, she was sure she’d see the silliest, happiest grin on her face.
He snapped the button on her shorts and tugged the zipper down, all while paying attention to her breasts with his mouth. Since her hands were trapped she let her moans ignite him. Then he pushed her shorts and panties down in one fluid movement, baring her to him.
Her heart thundered. She’d imagined this a thousand times, dreamed of how he'd touch her, what his skin would feel like against hers. His lips trailed down her stomach in hot, open mouthed kisses that heated her through the thin fabric of her tank. He didn't give her any time to feel shy or self-conscious before he delved deeper.
Her breath stalled in her lungs and she kept her shoulders firmly against the wall as he teased her lower lips with his tongue. He moaned against her tender flesh and she'd never been so happy that she'd started getting waxed while she was in Spain.
Every flutter, each flick was amplified, taking her higher so much quicker. She thrust her hips in time with his movements, trying to spread her legs as best she could. His right hand left her hip and spread her folds, leaving her clit open for his sensuous assault.
Eyes squinted shut in concentration, she exploded as the tip of his tongue traced circles around her. Exquisite pleasure filled her from head to toe and the heady sensation made her cry out as her body tensed.
Panting, she wasn't aware of much until Dylan kissed his way up her torso.
“You're delicious.”
Her cheeks heated at his bold words.
She couldn't believe he'd just done that to her, much less...said what he'd said.
“Why are you suddenly shy?”
At his full height again, he studied her, his lips quirked up in a cocky smile.
“You,” was all she could get out.
Your words, that smile, how freaking masterful you are with that wicked tongue.
“What about me?” he asked, his hands moving to the front of his jeans.
She held her breath as he popped the button and dragged the zipper down slowly. Oh hell, he was doing that on purpose. She could tell.
