by Piper Lawson
“This will be quick. I just wanted to update you and make sure your availability hasn’t changed. Six months, right?”
“Um. Sure.” I half-listened, trying to wriggle free. I shot a look over my shoulder, but Dylan’s eyes were still shut and his breathing was rhythmic.
“Good. You’re coming to Elle’s show to bring the bags Saturday?”
“Mhmm.”
I managed to get my fingers beneath his and pry his hand off my stomach. Dylan grunted, pulling me closer. This time his hand landed on my breast. His hand squeezed, and I bit my tongue as a ribbon of fire snaked down my spine and settled into an insistent ache between my thighs.
I gave in, hoping Dylan’s breathing didn’t get picked up by the microphone.
“Perfect. I’ll be busy when you arrive at the show, but my assistant Tamara will send your car and make sure you can get in…”
I’d spent the last few years listening attentively to every word this woman said. She was a genius at marketing and had opened more doors for me than anyone. But Kirsten’s voice started to fade as the unmistakeable brush of Dylan’s fingers between my legs had me exploding off the bed. One arm still tight around me, the other hand rubbed my clit in slow circles that had me arching my hips involuntarily.
“Sorry Kirsten, could you hold on for just one—” I gasped as Dylan slid two fingers inside me. The phone fell from my grasp onto the bed. I dimly reached out to hit the mute button.
“Dylan!” I whispered hoarsely over my shoulder.
His low voice rumbled in my ear, full of sleep. “Morning.”
“This is really important. It’s work on the phone.”
“You work too hard.” But he relented, his hands retreating, even though part of me desperately wanted them to continue. “One minute.”
I brought the phone back to my ear, determined to focus. Channeling my professional voice was unusually hard. “I’m back. Sorry.”
“No problem. I was saying, Elle will be at the show of course, and she’s agreed to meet you after.”
“That’s amazing.” I winced at the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.
But Dylan’s hand was drawing wet circles on my thigh that were only slightly less distracting than what he’d been doing a moment ago.
“It is,” she agreed. “And you deserve this opportunity. It may be hard now, but it will be good for you, and good for Travesty…”
My breath caught as fingers took up where they’d left off. My minute was up, and my attention was torn between the voice of the person I most respected and the hands of the person I loved—and craved.
When Dylan’s cock brushed between my legs, it wasn’t a fair fight.
Dylan’s hand grew firm on my hip. He wasn’t asking anymore, but telling me exactly what was going to happen. With one hand clutching the phone and the other propping me up on my side, I was helpless to resist. I wanted him to stop. Even as some traitorous part of me wanted him to do every dirty thing I knew he was capable of.
He wouldn’t.
Of course he would, I realized as he pulled me back onto him.
My mouth fell open on a silent moan as Dylan filled me. I was unprepared for the way my body shuddered, the sweet soreness still echoing between my legs from the night before, the need for him that always seemed to lie deep inside me waiting for an excuse to wake.
I looked over my shoulder. Dylan’s expression was wicked and determined as he drew out, slowly, then pressed back in.
I could still hear Kirsten talking, but she sounded far away. Everything was far away except the exquisite feel of Dylan rocking into me.
“Kirsten,” I managed, “that’s good. I mean, great. It all sounds—shit. I’m sorry, but I really have to go.”
“OK, but you’re coming into the magazine today, right?”
“Yeah, coming soon.”
Dylan’s sleepy chuckle sounded from behind me and I twisted to get a look at him.
Shameless evil boyfriend…
His hair fell across his handsome face, his grin turning smug as he changed the angle and thrust deeper inside me.
I choked on my next breath.
Shameless sexy boyfriend…
I was used to calling the shots in my own life, but in bed Dylan got what he wanted. And that typically involved driving me absolutely insane with need.
It was hard to remember he’d been the inexperienced one. The way he knew what I wanted, the dirty things he said…sex was this man’s calling.
Dylan’s fingers started circling my clit in time with his thrusts. Warm lips found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. Feather light kisses rained down on my skin, like he could cool the fire the rest of his body was stoking inside me.
I tried to stop the moan that slipped out.
“Lex, are you OK?”
“Mhmmmmm.”
Kirsten paused. “All right. Well, I’ll see you in about an hour.”
I dropped the phone off the side of the bed, and I couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Fuck, Dylan,” I moaned, lost in what he was doing to my body and pissed at both of us at once. Him for subjecting me to this, and me for being too weak to say no.
Dylan’s hand went back to my hip, and I sucked in a breath when he drew most of the way out. A long moment later he pressed back in at just the right angle to fill me up completely. My muscles tightened, the warning creeping along my spine.
His teeth grazed my earlobe, his breath hot on my neck. “Sorry,” he breathed, without sounding the least bit sorry. “I was having this really good dream. You and me on this private beach. No people. No clothes. Sand everywhere.” I could feel his grin. “When I woke up the only thing I could think of was the feel of you coming on my cock.”
I was already so close, I couldn’t hang on any longer, and my body tightened around him. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah, just like that,” he murmured as my body shook. His thrusts sped up and he drove in a few more times. Dylan wasn’t loud, but the low groans he made when he went off the edge gave me a hazy satisfaction.
We collapsed side by side.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I managed when I could breathe again. “You’re so…”
“Immature? Maybe. But you loved it.” His rough voice was confident, and I couldn’t stop my mouth from curving at the corner.
“Some very small, very depraved part of me,” I panted.
At moments like this one it seemed impossible that Dylan hadn’t been in my life until two years ago. That I’d been walking, talking, studying, living without his handsome face. That secretive smile. His ability to understate everything but somehow never miss what was important.
Not to mention that I could spend the rest of my life in bed with him and never get bored.
But in another day he’d be gone for weeks. Though we’d made it this far, it wasn’t without its struggles. We were still another year from actually making a go of this. Before I could wake up to him every day.
“I hate that I can’t see you whenever I want,” I sighed.
Dylan propped himself on one elbow, serious eyes meeting mine. “We’ll get through it,” he said, with the same simple faith he went into everything with. “Besides,” he went on, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll see you every month until then, right?”
I swallowed, thinking of the conversation with Kirsten. The clock on the bedside table pulled my attention.
“What time are your interviews?”
“First one’s nine-thirty. Guess I’d better get moving.” He rolled onto his back to stretch.
“Do you think you’ll get an offer while you’re here?”
Dylan grinned. “Hope so. This firm hires a bunch of new grads every year.”
“Well, you have some of the best grades and experience of anyone in your class. You’re a sure bet.”
“Thanks for that.” Dylan leaned over and pressed a kiss to my mouth. “I want to take you for dinner. Somewhere nice.”
“Yo
u don’t need to impress me.” I was the one working now, making at least a little money.
“I know. But I want to.” Dylan pulled back a few inches, frowning. “Something wrong?”
I slid out from under the covers, my feet landing softly in the carpet. “No. But I should shower and get ready for work.”
“Forgetting something?” Dylan’s voice held a promise that made me pause. Two steps shy of the door, I turned.
No matter what uncertainty there was in the world, or about our future, one thing was for sure. My sexy-as-hell boyfriend who looked like a mashup of James Dean and Dave Franco and lived thousands of miles away was lying naked on my bed. The dark shadow coming in around his jaw just made him look a little dangerous, and when my gaze ran down his body, over the hard planes and muscled chest and abs…
Yep. It was pretty obvious he was ready for whatever my depraved brain could conjure up.
You are a lucky girl, Alexis Caine.
“Do you want to join me in the shower?” I breathed. “This time might have to be fast.”
Dylan rose with a lazy grace, taking my hand and pulling me down the hall.
“Fine. But the second time’s going to be slow.”
Chapter 6
Dylan
“What are you doing here?”
“I have an appointment, Mr. Jenson.” I reached into the pocket of my rarely worn dress pants for my phone. I could’ve sworn Nate had said one pm.
The man across from me laughed, taking a seat on the far side of a sleek modern desk and motioning for me to sit too. “What I mean is, you go to school in—” he glanced down at the neat stack of papers divided by paper clips on the metal surface “—San Diego. So, what are you doing in my office?”
Altar Engineering Consulting managed projects across the country, but they recruited from their home base, a few floors of a shiny downtown skyscraper. Thanks to a friend of Nate’s, I had this introduction to the head of their college recruiting.
I tried not to shift in the hard seat that was made from some kind of reclaimed wood. Instead I focused on Tom Jenson as I recited the words I’d practiced in the mirror that morning.
“I want to build things that matter to people. Infrastructure gets me most excited. To me, a bridge isn’t just something you drive on—it’s a way of connecting us socially and economically. I did a project for Engineers without Borders—”
Jenson held up a hand, and I stopped midway through my speech. “That’s great, Dylan. But there are lots of good firms on the West Coast. Lots of bridges that need building. Arguably as many as in Manhattan.”
An affable smile stretched across his face, but I could barely hold in my groan.
This was my third meeting today. The first had been in Queens, the second five blocks from this one. Each had taken less than thirty minutes and resulted in some version of “Thanks, we’ll get back to you.”
That response was not what I’d expected, and it was a million miles from what I needed.
“I know there are good firms, Mr. Jenson,” I said, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. “My dad works for Rav-con. I did a co-op term there this summer.”
The man across from me, who was my father’s age but built heavier, narrowed his eyes. “And how did that go?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Pretty well.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they offered me a job, starting the week after graduation next spring.”
I don’t know whether I was more surprised to hear the words or he was. I hadn’t said them out loud before.
Of course my dad had found out, and he’d sat me down the week before when the offer had come through. Telling me to think hard about my priorities, saying a chance like that didn’t come along often and I’d be stupid not to take it.
It wasn’t worth trying to remind my dad that he’s not exactly the poster child for responsible choices. In this case, though, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Jenson shifted back in his seat. “Congratulations. But I take it you’re not sitting in my office because you accepted the offer.”
“No. I haven’t turned them down yet, either,” I admitted.
Jenson scanned the sheets in front of him before looking back up, his face stony. “I see hundreds of kids a year, Dylan. Smart kids. If you’re trying to use that offer to force my hand, you’re out of your depth.”
My gaze drifted past Jenson’s shoulder, through the glass wall and down the row of cubicles beyond. “That’s not it. I’m actually not sure why I told you.”
I liked working at Rav-con. More than liked it. I’d gotten to help on a couple of bridge projects that had put what I’d studied to use. The whole process was fascinating, from the planning right through the inspections. Having teams of people with different knowledge, all working together to build something bigger than themselves. It wasn’t easy, but that was what I liked about it. The constant challenge.
“Then why haven’t you accepted it?”
I drummed my fingers lightly on the arm of the chair. “My girlfriend is here,” I said finally, turning back to him.
Jenson leaned forward, and I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Ahh, so that’s it. How long have you been together?”
“Almost two years. We’ve had our rough patches, like anyone, I guess. But it’s serious.”
“She works in Manhattan.”
“She’s a fashion designer. Well, my sister is, but Lex works with her. They built this company from scratch. A few years ago it was an idea in their heads, and now it’s taken on a life of its own and…” I trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of my head. “I’m just proud of her.”
Jenson nodded. “Dylan, we want to find people who will make their careers with us. If you split with this girl, what would there be to keep you in New York?”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
My mom’s heart had broken a little when she’d found out about my plan to move here. She was crazy about Lex, but I was the last one in San Diego. My oldest sister Kate lived in the Midwest and only came home for Christmas. Ethan was in LA, which was close enough, but he was a busy realtor and only went home for holidays.
The truth was, I loved to experience new things, but I also loved home. If there was a chance to be with Lex in California, I’d be on it in a heartbeat.
But there isn’t.
“I have a daughter about your age,” Jenson mused. “She planned to go to Australia for one semester. Then she met a boy, stayed. A year later she came running home in tears because they didn’t make it. Asking me to ship her belongings home from halfway across the world.”
Part of me wanted to reach over the desk and shake him. To say that wouldn’t happen to us. Lex and I were nothing like his daughter and her boyfriend, or like anyone else, for that matter.
“Dylan, I’m going to be honest. You’re clearly a motivated young man. Your grades are good, and a recommendation from a Townsend is currency in this town.”
“But?” My jaw tightened, and Jenson inclined his head.
“But we take on a handful of new applicants each year out of hundreds. Sometimes thousands. I’m looking for candidates who’ll be with us for a career. Who know this is what they want.” He rose and I followed, swallowing the stone in my throat. “Now, I’m going to share your transcripts and your portfolio with our hiring department, and I certainly wish you all the best.”
As Mr. Jenson shook my hand and ushered me out the door, his words reverberated in my head, sounding a lot like “no.”
~
We have a problem
I raised an eyebrow at the text from Nate that had come through while I was at Jenson’s office.
What kind of problem?
Come over
The subway ride back to Lex’s building seemed longer than the one downtown. I wasn’t sure what to make of my morning, but I hadn’t been expecting three firms in a row to pat me on my head and send me on my
way.
The man who opened Nate’s door wore a suit remarkably like yesterday’s, but his hair was standing up, like he’d been raking his hands through it.
“Come in,” he grunted, flicking his gaze down the hall before he stepped back.
The lack of composure had me wondering if Nate was on something stronger than coffee. “Is Ava here?”
“No.” He shut the door quickly behind me, and I turned to survey the apartment.
“What the hell happened?” Books spilled off shelves to litter the hardwood floor; kitchen drawers hung open; the contents of a wallet were upended over the coffee table and credit cards were everywhere. “Did you get robbed or something?”
Nate shook his head and looked at me guiltily. “No. This was me.”
“Wait. You ransacked your own apartment?” I frowned. “Is that even a word? Ransacked?”
“Dylan, this isn’t the problem.” He waved a hand at the tornado around us. “It’s Operation Lockdown.”
“How much espresso did you make today?”
“The—er—lockdown device. It’s missing.”
It took me a full minute to catch up to what he was saying. Horror dawned on me in degrees, and my heart slowed to a stop in my chest.
“Nate,” said a voice I barely recognized. “Are you telling me you lost the ring?”
“I swear I had it. When you gave it to me to keep I put it right in my inbox.” Nate gestured toward a metal file on his desk, which was now pulled out from the wall at an awkward angle. “Ava never goes near my work stuff. She’s afraid lawyer is contagious.”
My clammy hands reached up to rub my face. A noise pulled my gaze toward an open doorway on the far side of the living room. “What was that?”
“Oh. That’s just Suit.”
As if on command, a gray cat curled around the door frame, flicking his tail. I winced as it bent to lick at the seam between the floor and the wall.
“Ignore him,” he told me. “That cat will eat anything, I swear.”
My eyes locked with his. “Was the ring in the envelope or not?”
“No, I took it out. I didn’t want Ava to recycle it by mistake.” His face turned ashen. “There’s no way…”
