by Rebecca Foxx
"So Les said that the night could get wild. How wild would you like it to get?"
Once the words escaped her lips, Megan knew that she could not get them back. But she did not want to take them back. If she was going to be here in Vegas with her favorite rock star, she had to make something of the moment.
"Are you willing to see?" he asked.
Only nodding was Megan's reply.
Dylan's lips brushed the spot right under her earlobe. "I don't believe that you know exactly what you are asking for."
Chapter Three
By the time they made it to the second music show, Megan had completely loosened up. She could not remember how many drinks they'd had and she was loosing track of time. It did not matter because she was having the time of her life.
Lila had been there every step of the way and she was happy that her friend had made such an arrangement to have them both come to Vegas.
Riding in the car with Dylan, top down, Megan held her hands in the air. Wiggling her fingertips, she felt the warm wind on her skin as they rode through the winding roads.
Lila and Les had decided to stay at the last venue and Carl had gone home to his condo with his family.
That left Dylan and Megan all alone. She was in no way apprehensive about being alone with him. Despite the fact that the two of them had just met. It did not seem like it. It felt like they had been in each other's lives for ages, versus the few hours since they met.
Letting the music blast, the two of them laughed, enjoying the feel of the open road. Megan had no clue where they were headed, and for once, she did not mind that fact. Just being with Dylan was enough.
He pulled off the road back toward the Strip. They had been all over the city and even after going to a few concerts and having her fill of drinks, Megan was still not full of her time.
Dylan found a place to park his sports car. He came around to Megan's side of the car and helped her out. The effects of the alcohol she'd consumed was starting to wear off. As well as the euphoria of being with Dylan Page. She was starting to like being with Dylan, the man. He was very sweet, a lot of fun, and a total contrast from the hard core rocker that she saw on the stage.
Taking her by the hand, he led her inside of a restaurant. Megan was not sure if she was hungry enough to eat a full meal, but she had a taste for dessert.
"Another spot that I really love here in the city."
"I love the fact that you are taking the time to show me the city from your point of view."
"I love this city. It's a great place to be. I just hope that you enjoy it. Come on."
He held her hand tightly as they walked inside. It was dimly lit, music played softly. It was the kind of place that was extremely intimate, the kind of place where Megan thought that her and Dylan could really take the time to get to know one another.
They found a quiet booth in the back where they sat and ordered coffee and desserts.
Megan smiled as people randomly recognized Dylan and politely came and asked for his autograph.
"Do you ever get tired of it?" Megan inquired.
"Never," Dylan shook his head. "It is part of who I am and what I do. There is no way that I can get tired of signing autographs and greeting fans. They are the reason that I am who I am and that I can do what I love to do."
It was the kind of perspective that made Dylan all the more endearing.
"But enough about that. The fame is my everyday life. There is something missing."
Biting his bottom lip, Dylan slid closer to Megan, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She did not want him to move. If she could freeze that moment in time somehow, she would have.
"What is missing?" Megan heard the words leave her mouth, but she was once again amazed that in Dylan's company, there in Las Vegas, she seemed to be so much more spontaneous and open.
"This."
When his lips touched hers, there were no explosions. It was more sweet and sensual. He was almost asking permission to kiss her. Leaning in to him, Megan tried to let him know that she was open to his kiss.
His lips were soft, his arms wrapped around her pulling her closer to him. Breathless, Megan did not pull back. She only found herself wanting more.
"I can't seem to get enough of you, Megan."
"The feeling is mutual and I am not sure why. Or how."
His hands cradling the back of her head, Dylan kissed her again. They barely ate, sitting there in the booth, the affection growing. Megan wanted more time, or to stop time. In the early morning hours, it felt as if they had to squeeze in as much on the agenda as they could possibly do.
He showed her the city, how beautiful it actually was. Away from the lights and the glitz of what the tourists thought Las Vegas was. The night was like a whirlwind. Things were moving as slowly as they were moving quickly. Megan and Dylan had gone so many places together, Megan practically forgot that she was on vacation. Riding down the highway, hair blowing in the wind, Megan felt the freest that she had ever felt in her entire life. The invigorating feeling was intoxicating. She wanted to bottle it up and figure out a way to savor it.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Dylan shifted the car into gear, glancing over at Megan as she sat by his side in the passenger seat.
"Honestly, this is one of the best times of my life. My friend Lila wanted me to come out and do something spontaneous and life a little. She says that I'm all work and no play."
His hand inched up her thigh. "And what do you think? Are you all work and no play?"
The wind whipped her hair in her face and Megan gently took her hands and moved it out of her eyes. She looked to him, deciding that there was no reason that she could not tell him the truth.
"She was right. And that's why I think that this feels so good."
Dylan squeezed her thigh. "I think that this feels good because it's right."
Megan laughed. He was talking like they were living a fairy tale.
"You are laughing like you don't believe in love at first sight."
Megan shook her head. "I'm not too sure. My life has not shown me that can be possible."
With a grin, Dylan moved his hand even further up her thigh. "I like to just go with things. There is nothing wrong with that. Life can be fun when you do that."
"Just go with it?" She looked down at his hand, then back up to his eyes.
"Just go with it. Let your hair down. Live."
"That is one of my favorite songs by Paradise."
Dylan swerved, pulling the car over to the side of the road. In the darkness of the early morning, there was no one else out on the highway but the two of them.
He got out of the car, slamming the door and walking around to her side. He opened her door and held his hand out to her.
"Live."
Not knowing what was next, she took his hand and let him lead. Dylan pulled her out of the car, immediately to his chest.
"That was one of my favorite songs to write. It was all about making sure that you take time out and live. Not being afraid to do those things that your heart desires. Not being afraid to just jump."
His lips were dangerously close to hers. His breath warm on her skin. His hands around her waist as she leaned in to him, leaning on his chest.
"Jump?"
"Yes. Just being able to push yourself to do something that looks crazy. Something that looks like you have completely lost your mind."
Megan could hardly breath. She closed her eyes, trying to take in the entire moment, and just be.
Dylan dove in, kissing her with a passion that had been consuming them the entire evening. The inferno was building and Megan was willing to let it get as hot as it could as Dylan continued to whisper to her to just let go. As he did, she felt more and more that she could let it all go and throw caution to the wind. Just this one time, if anything. It all felt so good that she never wanted any of it to end.
The touch of his hands on her skin. The feel of his lips on hers. The feel of her body on hers.
It only left her craving more. Longing for what else he would do to her.
Dylan pushed her body up against the car, leaving Megan to wrap her legs around his waist as he lifted her off of the ground.
Nibbling at her earlobes, down to the nape of her neck and that tender spot near her collarbone, Dylan was slow and deliberate in building the passion. Megan knew that it would become close to impossible to hold back from him.
"Live a little," he said one more time before releasing her.
Megan wanted to clamor and ask for more, but she didn't. The night was about going with the flow and letting things happen as they may.
Dylan held the car door open for her, waiting for her to get inside.
"The night is still just beginning, Megan. Say you will go along for the ride." Dylan slid into the driver's seat, waiting for her response.
"I'm going with you." She did not think twice about the answer.
Chapter Four
Megan rolled over, the down comforter wrapped around her body. The morning sunlight streamed into the window. She stretched, trying to open her eyes, shielding them from the sun.
The itch on her finger made her turn her hand around.
Trying to focus, she rubbed her eyes to find something sparkling on her finger. Once it hit her what it was, Megan sat upright in the bed. Dylan was lying there next to her, sprawled out across the pillow. Searching in the bedding, she found his hand, pulling it up for plain view. They both had sparkling rings on their third finger, left hand.
Rolling over with a serene smile adorning her pearl pink lips, she reached over to run her newly adorned fingers through the messy spiky mass of Dylan’s silken hair; shutting her eyes tight as she heaved a contented sigh and huddled closer to him.
Suddenly her eyes flew open and she started screaming. Loud.
Eventually the noise of her dramatic exclamation awoke her sleeping partner; a man who, judging from the sight of their matching golden bands, had at some point during the evening become a full and true partner in more ways than one.
“Megan?” he mumbled, cracking open his sleepy eyes to regard her through sexy ebony slits.
Or Megan supposed that they would appear sexy, if she wasn’t out and out stunned, overwhelmed and just a bit petrified.
“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked her, frowning with concern as his own eyes flew frighteningly wide.
Megan shook her head.
“Oh, nothing much,” she sputtered out, adding as she gestured in the direction of their joined hands, “Except that, aside from our planned itinerary of dinner, dance and drinks yesterday evening, we apparently entered the friggin’ bonds of holy wedlock at some point. Bonus!”
Dylan paused, fixing her with a vague, blank stare as he processed this news.
Then he started screaming. Loud.
Clapping her beringed hand tight over his mouth, Megan rolled her eyes heavenward as she reminded him, “I already said that, Dylan. You’ll have to be more original in the future.”
Dylan took her hand from his mouth and held it in his own, shaking his head from side to side as he seemed to consider this sudden, shocking turn of events.
“Oh man,” he said finally, letting loose with a deep sharp sigh as he sank defeated into the satiny sheets of their luxurious, lace canopied lavender bed; a resting place that formed a heavenly centerpiece to what seemed the ideal honeymoon suite. “What will my publicist say? What will my fans say?”
Megan rolled her eyes.
“Forget your publicist and your friggin’ fans,” she scoffed, adding as she cringed in something akin to terror, “What will my mom say? I mean, granted, some of your devoted fans might come at me with torches and lip gloss cases ablaze when they hear the news of our misbegotten marriage. But even they would be no match for the terrifying vision of Sylvia Morris yielding a soup ladle that could indeed double as a lethal weapon in just the right circumstances.”
Briefly Megan admired the whole of their lush, lavish surroundings. Her wondering eyes taking in the vast expanse of a room that also included brass rimmed, ivory hued bureaus, velvet upholstered chairs, an overhanging candle lined brass chandelier, and a domed ceiling that boasted a brilliant hand painted mural depicting celestial angels in flight across a gem blue sky.
“Looks like the perfect place for a honeymoon,” she observed, more to herself than to a watching Dylan. “That is, for two people who actually had some earthly intention of getting married in the first place. How on earth did we get here, Dylan?”
Her ‘husband’ sighed.
“The last thing I remember, you and I were dancing the night way at The Nerve Center, my favorite Vegas rock club,” he recalled, his dark eyes squinting as he strained to recall the events of the previous eveing. “One of my fans, a rather over excited and very flashy chap I had spotted at a number of our shows locally, offered to buy us all of the alcoholic beverages we could drink.” He paused here, adding as he crossed his eyes to comical effect, “And, apparently, we took the gentleman up on his offer.”
“Ya think?” Megan barked in response, crossing her eyes in kind return as she recalled, “I do indeed recall responding in kind to the requests of those around us; which, if I remember correctly, were comprised of words like ‘Chug, chug!’ ‘Finish off the shots!’, and ‘Drink it all down, every last drop!’”
“Which we apparently did,” Dylan released on a sigh, keeping their down comforter gathered tight around his sculpted chin as he reached for the discarded pile of clothes that lay rumpled and ruffled at the end of their bed. “To the extreme.”
Fishing around in the pockets of his ultra-tight blue jeans, the bewildered rocker withdrew a crumpled piece of paper that came emblazoned with the vibrant, rainbow patterned logo of the Wedding Bell Blues drive through wedding chapel.
“Should we even dare look?” he asked her, unfolding and straightening the document that seemed to take the form of a rather haphazard wedding certificate; one scrawled with their jittery, messy but nonetheless unmistakable signatures.
Megan sighed.
“So I guess the vague memory I have of an elderly, obese Elvis impersonator just barely fitting himself between the panes of a dilapidated window and making us promise to ‘love each other tender’ for the remainder of eternity, was not a nightmare at all,” she groaned, adding with a helpless shrug, “So how do we fix this travesty, Dylan? Just how quick are the so called quickie divorces here in Vegas?”
Dylan said nothing at first, just stared at the certificate in his hand with reflective eyes.
“Let’s not be too hasty here, love,” he said finally, adding as he seared her with a narrow eyed looked that betrayed his emotional intensity, “We both know that we felt an incredible connection the moment we met; we felt drawn together through the power of an irresistible force. You don’t know how many songs, Megan, that I’ve already written with you in mind. I can honestly say that no other woman has affected me quite the way you have….”
He broke off here, his own emotions suddenly overtaking him as he raised her hands to his full moist lips; his ardent kisses sending tingles down her spine as she considered these impassioned words.
“Well I have to admit it, Dylan. The time that we have spent together has been nothing short of magical,” she told him, tone soft and meaningful. “You’ve made all my dreams come true. Dylan, you are my dream.” She paused here, adding as she squeezed his fingers tight between her own, “The only problem is, though, that this is real life. We both have careers and obligations that await us just outside the door; along, of course, with all of the paps with flashing cameras that are probably just waiting to descend upon us the moment we cross the threshold….”
“So what do you say we don’t cross it?” Dylan interrupted her, voice suggestive and whisper soft. “Let’s just stay here for a while and complete the fantasy. Let’s enjoy our honeymoon.”
Megan froze and shut her eyes tight, fighting the wave of red hot arousal elicited by these t
empting, oh so seductive words.
“As much as I desire you, Dylan, as much as I have always desired you,” she voiced aloud, just as much to herself as to her lover. “I’m afraid that it’s just not that simple.”
And then her eyes opened.
Megan gasped outright as her eyes beheld the ultimate vision of masculine radiance; one that had filled her dreams and fantasies on many a lonely night.
Throwing the comforter in a reckless flourish to the side of the bed, Dylan fully and finally revealed his body to her; tempting her with a soft, inviting smile as he flexed his every taut, tight muscle shameless for her pleasure.
