He pulled me to him, tucking my head against his chest. He stroked my hair. “That’s what I hoped you say.”
I inhaled his scent, the smell of his soap, the fabric softener in his shirt. They had all become familiar scents to me and I closed my eyes and just let the sensation of his warmth and his scent, the sound of his voice, the steady thump if his heart under my ear, envelop me.
“Becca,” he said, a note of trepidation creeping into his voice. “I think I…I mean—“
“Shhh,” I said, bringing my finger to his lips. “I know.” I kissed his lips once, barely a whisper. “We’ll figure it all out somehow.”
He squeezed me tighter and warmth spread throughout my body. There were still a hundred things to say, to work out, but all I wanted to do was kiss this gorgeous sexy, sweet man who’d come all the way down here and crashed a rehearsal dinner. Just because he’d missed me. Even after I’d hurt him by not letting him into my personal life.
I reached up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.
He returned my kiss with all the pent-up desire and emotion we’d both been carrying. I wanted him with a ferocity I hadn’t experienced before and after we broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily, I knew we’d never make it until the boat docked and we could scamper back to our apartment. I took his hand and led him towards the back of the boat.
“Where are we going?”
“Here,” I said. It was a short corridor between the paddle wheel and the outside of the maintenance room. It was probably nothing more than an access point for guys to work on the wheel, but it was secluded and I needed Dillon badly enough to make it work.
I leaned against the wall and gave him my best come-hither look.
“Becca, what if someone comes?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure there will be a couple of people coming,” I said and grabbed hold of his tie to reel him in closer to me. “Besides, I think I’m starting to develop a fetish for outdoor sex.”
“You are such a naughty girl,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “You make me want you with just a glance. I’ve never felt this way.”
“Maybe you just needed a little naughty in your life.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Maybe I just needed you.”
Something in my chest expanded at his words and the intensity of his stare.
“Maybe so.”
I moved my hands to the waistband of his trousers, loving the way his eyes went dark as he waited for me to undo his belt and slip his buttons free. I got a condom out of his wallet before letting his trousers slide down his legs to tangle at his feet. He was already hard for me and I eased his zipper down and carefully tugged at his briefs until his cock sprang free. I slipped my hands inside and cradled his balls for just a second before stroking him once, base to tip.
“God, Becca. What you do to me.”
I ripped open the packet and rolled the condom on him while he kissed me with a hunger that matched my own. I felt cool air on my thighs and realized he was bunching up my skirt, exposing me, too. My panties disappeared in a whisper. Dillon stroked me with confident fingers, sliding in and out and around, smoothing my own dampness over my sex. I groaned at the sensation and my hips bucked, searching for more.
He lifted me suddenly, slamming me against the wall. My breath whooshed out. I was no lightweight, but Dillon seemed to have no trouble supporting us both. All the playfulness was gone now. His intense gaze was all male aggression and need. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and just held on.
His movements were quick and hard, driving his cock deep inside me. He grasped my backside, bringing me up to meet each thrust. His eyes, dark and glittering with need, never left mine.
Heat flooded my body and even in the cool night air, my flesh burned.
I pulled at his hair. “Dillon,” I groaned, begging.
He kissed me once, hard, then pounded into me even harder. The hot friction, the sound of skin on skin sent my senses into overdrive. My nails dug into his shoulders and I put my mouth to his neck, nipping with my teeth, urging him to go wild.
He took my mouth, nibbling at my lips, sucking my tongue inside his mouth. My back slammed against the wall as he increased his tempo. Pressure gathered low in my belly and I thrust my hips, too, needing the release that was just over the next rise.
Everything muscle in my body clenched, waiting, wanting, until at last pleasure exploded in a hot rush that flooded my body, making me cry out and squeeze Dillon’s hips with my thighs even tighter.
“Becca,” Dillon ground out between gritted teeth and he jerked his release, too, rocking against my pelvis until the last shudder left his body.
He buried his face in the curve of my neck and his breath sent a new round of shivers through my sated body.
Eventually he released my backside and I slid down his body to stand on rubbery legs.
“Not bad,” I said, tugging my skirt down.
“’Not bad’? I worked my ass off there.”
I grinned at him, tipping my head to one side. “Okay, better than not bad.”
“Gee, thanks.” He pulled up his boxers and trousers and refastened his belt.
“Fine, it was good. Very good.”
“That’s better,” he said, tilting my head up for a kiss.
“Okay,” I said against his lips. “You’re the shit. A total sex God. You took me to heaven and back, and made me want to fall on my knees and thank God I’m a woman.”
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.”
I kissed him, my lips swollen and hot.
“Just wait until we get home,” he whispered. My nipples went hard again at his dark promise.
“Umm. I’m scared.”
“You should be. I’ve got tons of Boy Scout tricks left you can’t even imagine.” He pressed his lips to the shell of my ear. “Just try to keep up.”
“I’ll take that as a challenge.”
“You’re on. First one to cry mercy loses.”
I straightened my blouse, laughing. “Oh, you’re going to lose, that one, buddy.”
“Tough talk for a woman who can barely stand on her own two feet.”
Before I could come up with a retort, Dillon’s phone beeped, indicating he’d gotten a voice mail.
He pulled the phone out of his inside jacket pocket and frowned when he looked at the caller ID.
“Uh-oh. Bad news?” I wasn’t sure how much to pry. This whole thing was going to be weird for a while. It was going to take an adjustment period. But I was looking forward to all the terrifying excitement of it all.
“No. Not really.” His brows were drawn together in concern, though. “It’s Hailey. Again.”
“Oh.” I said and my heart dropped a little.
“It’s no big deal. I mean, she’s been bugging me for weeks, saying she really needs to talk to me.”
I swallowed. It probably wasn’t the best time to mention I’d deleted her messages on our machine and call-blocked her number.
“Oh.” I continued to button my blouse like I was cool with it all. “What’s she want?”
“No idea,” he said, exasperated. “But I told her I’d meet her for coffee. Just so she quits calling me.”
I nodded, busying myself with smoothing my hair back into its elastic. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
It was a horrible idea. I knew what she wanted. She wanted him back. She realized what an idiot she’d been and she would bat her lashes and whip up some tears to do it. She was just the soft, fluffy kind of girl that guys like Dillon went for. The kind who needed protection and couldn’t tie their own shoes without the help of a big, strong man. At least, that was the game they played. And it worked. Every time.
I jerked my hair into a tight ponytail and shoved the tails of my blouse into the waistband of my skirt.
“Hey,” Dillon touched my chin, tilting it up so he could look into my face. “I won’t be long.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “A
nd when I get back, you’ll be home and we can think of some more naughty things to do together.”
I smiled, but my unease was still there.
“Okay.” I glanced out and realized we were almost back at the dock. “I have to go. Ricky will be looking for me to start the clean-up.”
Dillon nodded. “Okay. See you at home in a couple of hours.”
“’Kay.” I forced a smile. But as the first drops of rain hit the deck, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go seriously wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
I stood at the window of our apartment and watched the rain come down in torrents, flooding the street and silencing the music that would normally seep out of the open doors of bars and clubs lining Broadway Street. It was well after midnight and I’d been home for more than an hour now, pacing, worrying, and mostly kicking myself for doing both.
Dillon said he would be home and he would. He was a good guy, after all, and always did what he said he would. He wasn’t the kind of guy to hop in the sack, or the riverboat, with me then go whoring around with an ex-girlfriend. I seriously needed to chill.
But then, of course, my mind went a hundred miles an hour, worrying that maybe if Hailey hadn’t managed to drag him back to her lair, maybe he was late because he’d been hit by a drunk driver and even now was lying in a gutter somewhere bleeding. Or maybe he’d gotten mugged walking back from the restaurant where he’d met Hailey. Maybe he’d fallen down a sewer grate and had been washed halfway to the Gulf of Mexico by now.
I shook my head and turned away from the window. I really had to stop watching so many of those reality-disaster-survival shows on TV. I took a deep breath and considered some quality channel surfing to distract myself.
He’d be here. He said he would and he would.
I grabbed the remote and was on my eleventh lap of the channels when I heard the key in the lock. My heart jumped and I was so relieved that I let out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding. But that presented another problem. Should I be mad? Should I be concerned? I didn’t know what the proper response was when you were in a thing with someone.
Dillon walked in, soaked to the skin. I met him before he got three steps into our apartment. Relief made me giddy and I’m sure I was smiling like an idiot. But I didn’t really care. There was no way I could be mad at him.
“You’re dripping.” I reached for the buttons of his shirt. “You should probably get naked before you catch a cold.”
Instead of the funny response I’d expected from him, he trapped my hand on his shirt, just over his heart.
I looked up sharply to meet his gaze.
He looked like hell. He was pale, his eyes glazed over like he was feverish. Something was wrong. Really wrong.
“What is it?” I asked, fear creeping to my chest. “Is everything okay?”
I stepped back, watching him.
He ran hand though his wet hair, looking like he’d aged about ten years since I’d seen him a few hours earlier.
“Where were you?” It was difficult to get enough air into my lungs to make my voice work.
“Walking.” He kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bath towel that had been slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
“So I see.” I grabbed a second towel from a laundry basket and handed it to him. “You picked a great night for it.”
He took the towel and grabbed my wrist, pulling me against him, wet clothes and all. He leaned his forehead against mine. Cold, wet rain ran from his skin to mine and made me shiver.
“Becca, you know I…care for you.”
I swallowed, sure I didn’t want to hear what was coming out next.
“Yeah.”
He pulled away from me and stepped back. His jaw was set, his eyes hard. “Hailey is pregnant.”
Time seemed to stop as I stared at him, slack-jawed and totally unable to form a coherent thought.
“Say something,” he said after a moment. “Say something, Becca.”
I shook my head and turned away, swallowing hard. “Congrats?”
Dillon grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. “I didn’t want this, Becca. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t…”
“I know,” I said, pulling back. “I know.”
I stumbled towards the couch. “So it’s yours, then?”
Dillon nodded once.
“Is she keeping it?”
“Yes. She…we’re keeping it.”
My gaze shot up. He was looking at his hands again, and I could see his Adam’s apple bob.
“You? As in you two. Together.”
He met my gaze, a determined set to his mouth. “Yes. Together.”
“Oh.” It felt like I’d ingested a building’s worth of bricks, like someone had kicked me in the gut. I was going to throw up.
Dillon came to the couch and crouched down in front of me, taking my hand. “I have to, Becca. It’s my child. I can’t just abandon it. Or Hailey.” He swallowed. “They need me. I have to do the right thing here. I wish I could say something to make you understand.”
I wanted to tell him I needed him, too. But I didn’t need him. Not like she did. I just wanted him.
And by then, I should have realized that life never works out that way.
“Sure,” I said, pulling my hands out of his. “I get it.” My chest felt tight and I just wanted out of the conversation, out of the situation. I wanted to pretend none of this had ever happened. Not the friendship, not the ball, not realizing that I did want Dillon to be more than a friend. Not the way he’d touched me only a few hours earlier, like he never wanted to let me go.
I picked up the remote and flicked on the TV. “Do what you have to do.”
I wished I didn’t care what he did, that he wasn’t breaking my heart. “Seriously. It’s fine.” I tossed him a weak smile and turned back to the TV.
I flipped channels for a while, concentrating on making my fingers push the buttons, but I was perfectly conscious of every breath he took, the way he kept swallowing and running his hands through his hair and the steady drip of rainwater hitting my carpet. I was aware of everything about him, burning it into my memory.
“I think I should move out.” Another swipe of his hand through wet hair. “It doesn’t feel right living with one woman while another is—”
“Whatever,” I said, concentrating on the pixels on the screen. “Do what you have to do.”
“I’ll still pay half the rent until you find a new roommate, though.”
“I can handle it.”
“I want to do it.”
I looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Because it’s the right thing to do?”
His gaze searched mine. Pity. That’s what I saw there. And it pissed me off. “Yes,” he said finally.
I shrugged, shielding my expression again. “Whatever.”
After a few minutes, Dillon got up and went into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.
By the time I got home from the recording studio the next afternoon, Dillon had moved out.
* * * *
“Let’s try it again from the top, Becca. A little less angry this time. It’s supposed to be a love song.”
I rolled my eyes. Ryan’s voice in my headphones was beginning to grate on my nerves. My head ached and I hadn’t been sleeping more than a few hours a night since Dillon had dropped his bomb two weeks earlier. I was in no mood to listen to someone tell me how to do my job.
Anyway, I wasn’t angry. I was just…perturbed. I’d sung this sappy-ass love song about a hundred times already and I wasn’t in the mood. But I wanted to nail it so I could get out of there and not ever have to sing it again. If it ended up on the radio, I swore to God I’d throw the damn thing right out the window rather than listen to the song again.
“Fine. Less angry, got it.”
I sang the song again, but I knew after the first verse that I hadn’t gotten it right.
“Nope,” Ryan broke in. “Let’s try anothe
r one, okay? Maybe come back to this song later?”
“Fine,” I said, relieved.
One of the techs brought in another set of lyrics. And Ryan cued up the next project. “I’m going to play the tune for you, Becca, just jump in whenever you want.”
I had the gift of being able to read the sheet music, then sing the song almost immediately. It was one of the reasons I was good at demo work. The people who hired me needed someone who could perform their stuff without wasting a lot of studio time in rehearsal.
I listened as the music filled my headphones. It was another goddamn ballad. Why couldn’t one of the songwriters come up with some kind of song that didn’t make people want to jump off the Bell South tower? Maybe I needed to get into hip-hop. Not many weepy songs there.
I glanced down at the sheet music and picked out where we were in the song. I hummed along, letting the notes become familiar in my throat. It was actually a nice little tune, not quite the dirge the last turkey was.
“Okay, let’s do it this time. Ready, Becca?”
“Ready,” I said adjusting the headphones. I read over the lyrics while the techs made some adjustments to the microphone and Ryan cued up the music again. Shit. It was a broken-heart song.
The music swelled in the headphones and when my cue came, I came in with the vocals. Low at first, the narrator talking about her love and how he was her everything, her best friend. I sang the words printed on the page, but it was Dillon’s face that came to mind. The music changed and the narrator’s lover left her. Her empty house was lonely, only his toothbrush left behind…Jesus.
I stopped singing. My throat felt like it was closing up. I grabbed my water bottle and took a big drink. “Sorry. Sorry, guys. Let’s do it again.”
I tried three more times, but never got past that damned toothbrush line. My chest and throat were tight and it was hard to sing at all. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there.
I took off the phones and rushed out of the studio, past Ryan, and out into the hallway.
Nashville Boxed Set #1-3 Page 26
