Jill appeared crestfallen. She wasn’t the only one.
Zoe waited until a lull appeared in the constant animated chatter directed toward Dylan. Taking her shot, she anchored Hunter on her hip and wiggled her way to his daddy’s side. “Sorry y’all, but it’s time for Mr. Walker to get some breathing room.”
A series of boos greeted her announcement. Ignoring the heckling, she grasped Dylan’s hand and tugged him toward freedom. Unfortunately they didn’t get too far before they were stopped by several of the adult townies. Unlike the teens, they didn’t pester Dylan for autographs. Zoe wasn’t even sure if they were aware of his celebrity status. There’s the generational gap for ya. Instead they offered condolences on Dusty’s recent passing. Dylan somberly accepted each and every one, his bland features giving nothing away regarding his own feelings about his father’s death. Once again her heart pinched for him.
She squeezed his fingers, offering silent comfort. His gaze met hers and the heated spark that pinged between them was enough to make her breath catch.
In an instant she was transported to a night many moons ago, when she’d stood in a gas station food aisle, mesmerized and speechless from her overwhelming draw to this man. How was it possible to feel this connected to someone who was entirely wrong for you?
“Zoe.”
It took several heartbeats for her to register Taylor calling her name over the sound of her own pulse pounding a chaotic love song. She turned her head to see Tay ambling in their direction. After introducing him to Dylan, the two men shook hands and sized each other up. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was it with those carrying the Y chromosome that they constantly felt the need to do that? And lucky her, she got to look forward to Hunter one day carrying on the tradition. In the meantime, all she could do was raise him to the best of her ability and instill in him the importance of not leaving the toilet seat up when they got to that stage of potty training.
Taylor shifted his focus from Dylan and smiled at Zoe. “I’m throwing a surprise birthday party for Callie on Saturday. Hoping you and Hunter can make it. Dylan too, of course.” He tacked on the last part as an almost reluctant afterthought.
She frowned. “But Callie’s birthday isn’t for another month.”
“I know. This is more a means to distract her and Josh from Saturday being the anniversary of Tom’s death. Give ‘em something positive to focus on.”
The gesture was so sweet and caring, it brought a mist to her eyes. Sniffling, she tucked Hunter to her side and offered Tay a one-armed hug. “You’re a good brother.”
He chuckled. “I try. Gotta make up for sneaking that toad into her bed when I was twelve.”
Snorting, she released him. “We’ll be there.”
Taylor nodded and bid them a farewell before continuing down the sidewalk and ducking inside Heart Starter, Lexie’s coffee shop. Nibbling her bottom lip, Zoe turned her attention to Dylan. “Hope you don’t think I was accepting on your behalf. You don’t have to go.”
“No, I’d like to.” His expression turned teasing. “One of us has to make sure Taylor doesn’t get handsy with ya.”
She choked on a cough.
“Mama, no spreading yer germs.” Hunter slapped his tiny hand over her mouth. She pried his palm loose and gave him a peck on the cheek.
Smoothing her fingers over Hunter’s unruly hair, she glanced at Dylan. The damnable man was still grinning at her. “Taylor and I are only friends.”
“Darlin’, you might think that. I doubt he shares your sentiment.”
She squinted. “Are you suggesting that men and women can’t be friends?”
“Not at all. But I guarantee ya most single men don’t become buddies with a beautiful lady without the intention of finagling for somethin’ more.”
Hearing him call her beautiful filled her with a radiant glow of happiness. Rolling her lips to keep from displaying her goofy grin, she shifted Hunter in her arms, trying to ease the increasing numbness in her right arm. “So you’re saying you and I can’t be just friends?”
He surprised her by sliding his hands around Hunter’s squirming body and lifting him from her grasp. She was even more shocked by the fact that their son willingly snuggled against Dylan’s chest. Hunter rarely allowed anyone to hold him. Even Callie had to threaten him with a tickle fight to get him to stay put in her arms. Taking advantage of her momentary spell of wonderment, Dylan pressed his mouth to her ear. “Oh, we can be friends. But ya damn well better believe I’ll finagle for more.” He backed up his statement by biting her earlobe.
She shivered, every square inch of her skin flushing.
Hunter poked Dylan in the chest. “No biting or you’ll get a spanking.”
Oh Lord. Out of the mouth of babes. Clamping her lips together to keep from laughing, she met Dylan’s sparkling gaze.
“If your mama delivers it, I might like it.”
He probably would, the kinky man. Dropping her arm, she cleared her throat and gestured toward the parked SUV. “We should head out before everyone gets off work.”
One corner of Dylan’s mouth hitched upward. “What constitutes rush hour traffic in Red Creek? Two vehicles and a squirrel?”
Her lips twitched. “Don’t estimate the squirrel. He really creates a snarl.”
“Better take your word for it then.” He led the way to the vehicle and settled Hunter in the child seat in the back. When she attempted to take over buckling their son in, Dylan waved her off. “I need to learn how to do this stuff.”
Unaccustomed to standing by and twiddling her thumbs, she quietly waited for him to figure out the proper placement of the straps. His patience with the task proved fruitful and he got Hunter secured in faster time than it’d initially taken her to figure out. Dutifully impressed, she climbed into the passenger seat and fiddled with her own safety harness. A moment later Dylan slid behind the wheel and she offered him a high five.
His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. “I did okay?”
“Gold star worthy.”
“Damn. Go me.” He gunned the engine and they were on their way.
The trip to her farmhouse was a pleasant distraction from all the concerns and doubts buzzing in her head. With the windows down, the sticky breeze spiked with the scent of summertime lulled her into a dreamy haze. It was so easy to pretend this fantasy was real—that she and Dylan were normal parents, out for a normal afternoon drive after spending some normal family time together.
It was all so perfectly normal.
“What are ya thinkin’ about?”
Snapping from her daydream, she peered at Dylan. “Huh?”
“You had this look on your face just now. Like you were visitin’ the happiest place on earth.” He chuckled. “Were ya thinkin’ about Disneyland?”
She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and gusted a sigh of relief at Hunter’s sleep-lax face. Making a tsking sound, she gave Dylan the stink eye. “Mom’s rule—you’re not allowed to speak that name in front of a three-year-old unless you’re prepared to listen to a twenty-four hour continuous loop of said child begging to see Mickey.”
“Duly noted.” He tore his attention from the road long enough to send her a devilish look. “Is that rule before or after the no biting one?”
Heat spread through her like an eruption of lava. The wicked man was going to be the death of her. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.”
“Oh, I will.”
Lord, what monster had she unleashed? Gulping, she wisely kept her mouth shut for the rest of the journey. They parked in the driveway and Dylan once again shooed away her attempts at freeing Hunter from his car seat. He carried their limp, blissfully snoring son all the way to his bedroom and carefully tucked him in bed.
Shaking his head at Hunter’s knocked-out state, Dylan scooted the teddy bear with the missing eye underneath Hunter’s arm. “Man, wish I could go down for the count like that.”
“You and me both.”
Dylan straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do you usually do while he’s sleepin’?”
“Take the opportunity to recharge before he’s up and Mr. Energizer Bunny again.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You mean a nap?”
“Sometimes. If I can sneak one in. My special treat is getting to read a book in the bathtub without Little Man trying to drown his G.I. Joe doll in there with me.”
“Should I be jealous that G.I. Joe has been spending quality soaking time with you?”
She batted her eyelashes. “He does tend to get fresh with me.”
“Don’t blame him one bit.”
The butterflies in her stomach whipped into a frenzy at the concentrated way Dylan stared at her. Jitterier than if she’d guzzled two carafes of coffee, she chaffed her arms and inched toward the doorway. “Are you hungry? I could always wrangle together some snacks.”
Not giving him room to shoot down that plan, she ducked into the hall and hauled ass into the kitchen. Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, she yanked open the pantry’s accordion doors and blindly canvassed the available options. She grabbed the closest box, not even conscious of what it was, and pivoted—crashing into the solid wall of muscle behind her.
Gasping, she clutched at Dylan, dropping the package in the process. He kicked it away with his boot before pressing her up against the pantry’s frame and bracketing her face with his big hands. The next instant that mouth she couldn’t stop thinking about slammed over hers. She wished she could say she fought the intensity of the kiss, but that’d be a shameless lie. Her arms encircled his waist, holding on for dear life as the firestorm consumed her. His tongue swept over hers, and then thrust deeper, coaxing a needy whimper from her throat. He cupped the back of her head, his other hand abandoning her cheek to seek out her breast. Devilish fingers squeezed and molded her flesh through the frustrating restriction of her tank top before slipping beneath the fabric.
His first brushing caress over her bare skin nearly made her knees buckle. And that was before his hand closed around her breast. Once that occurred she knew she was a goner. No force on earth would save her now. She needed his mouth on her. Everywhere. Now.
As if he’d read her mind, Dylan whisked her top over her head. Her excitement and the coolness of the AC instantly puckered her nipples beyond the point of bearable. He took advantage of their pebbled state and sucked one between his teeth, laving the distended tip with his tongue. Every wet, sensuous pass of that wicked appendage sent a corresponding ripple of need straight to her pussy. Well aware of the effect he was having on her, he cruised his hand to her mound and massaged her through her shorts, earning her whimper.
He tore his mouth from hers, his gaze dark and stormy. “Gotta taste you, Zoe. Before I fucking combust.”
“Then what the hell are ya waiting for?” she gasped in return. “Git to it.”
His laugh sending shivers skating across her skin, he pinned her to his chest and back-walked her to the built-in breakfast nook in the corner of the room. He hoisted her onto the table, his expression ravenous. She swerved her focus to the kitchen entry. “Push one of the chairs against the door.” A typical nap for Hunter usually meant he’d be sawing logs for a minimum of ninety minutes. They should be safe, but she wouldn’t risk their son waking up and wandering in to bust them in the act.
Dylan went to do her bidding and she quickly shimmied out of her shorts and panties. He turned back in her direction and wheezed out a breath. Self-conscious and acutely aware of the extra padding she’d accumulated since the last time he saw her naked, she hugged her chest. “W-what is it?”
“Goddamn, you are beautiful. I know I said it before, but it bears repeatin’ at least a thousand more times.”
Happiness rushed through her, banishing her lingering insecurities. It wasn’t so much the words that did it—though Lord knows they were lovely to hear. No, it was the way Dylan looked at her. Like she truly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She didn’t like to think of herself as a vain person. If anything, she tended to neglect her appearance, deeming makeup and such a pain in the rear end most days. But she wanted to be pretty in Dylan’s eyes. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that.
She held out her arms to him and he responded to the summons by crossing the room with a purposeful gleam igniting his gaze. Even the way he moved reminded her of a big jungle cat stalking its prey. Only she was the meal he planned on savoring.
Skin hot and prickly, she waited for him to pounce. Infinitely more graceful than that, he insinuated himself between her legs and combed his fingers through her hair before twisting the strands with one hand, forcing her neck to arch. The possessive dominance in the maneuver turned her insides to mush. Quivering, she bowed her back, desperately trying to press her lips to his. He teased her relentlessly, offering her the tiniest brush of his mouth. A slight graze of the tip of his tongue on hers. She begged him with her eyes, and he pulled her hair with a firmer grip, the sting shooting right to her core. His head dipped and he slid a kiss along her neck, his teeth scraping ever so lightly.
The sensory overload proved too much to take. Nails digging into his biceps, she shuddered and gasped, the inescapable orgasm spiraling through her in rippling waves.
Dylan lifted his head, disbelief in his hazel eyes. “Baby, did you just—”
“Y-yes.” She buried her face in his shirt to hide her embarrassment. “It’s been a while. You overwhelmed me is all.”
He released her hair and caressed her cheeks. “You are the hottest fucking thing alive. Don’t ever be ashamed of grasping that pleasure.”
“I’m not. I just wish I’d held out a while longer.”
“Why? Hungry to feel my big ole cock inside you, ya insatiable hussy?” He grunted in response to rightfully getting his nipple tweaked over his impertinence. “Would that be a yes or a no?”
Rather than answer, she unbuckled his belt and toggled his zipper down. Holding his transfixed stare, she slipped her hand past the waistband of his jockeys and caressed his rigid length. He pulsed, thickening in her grasp. A quiver ran through his belly, his washboard abs tensing. Breathing shaky, he closed his eyes and groaned. “I’ve missed the way you touch me.”
No more than she’d missed getting to explore every hard inch of him. And God, was he hard. The contrast of his velvet-soft smoothness was a marvelous thing. How could a man be made of silk and steel? It really was a wonder. She peeled his briefs down, freeing his gorgeous cock so she could properly appreciate the generous gift she was holding. And that’s precisely what it was—a glorious package perfectly designed for her pleasure. Stroking his fat shaft, she wiggled sideways, fully intending to plant a kiss right on that glossy crown.
He gripped her upper arms, halting her progress. “Nu huh, darlin’. No way you’re getting a taste before I’ve gotten mine.”
His features set in determination, he pushed her flat on the table and snagged the nearby ladder-back chair with his boot. Sitting his butt on the rush-woven seat, he draped her legs over his shoulders and slid his hands to her hips. The first swirl of his tongue on her clit had her white-knuckling the edge of the table. The man had moved beyond maestro. There wasn’t even a title fitting for the level of his prowess now. He shifted the placement of his right hand and used his thumb to hold back the hood protecting the bundle of nerves he was devastating. Over and over he swabbed her with his tongue, until she was panting and writhing. She reflexively squeezed her legs together, the tantalizing scruff of his beard stubble abrading her inner thighs pushing her closer to the peak. “D-Dylan, I’m g-gonna come again.”
His heated gaze met hers while he continued eating her pussy, and the intimacy of the moment lit the final fuse to her climax. A choked cry clogging in her throat, she broke apart on his tongue, his ceaseless lapping triggering endless aftershocks. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he wrenched his mouth free and fumbled with his jeans, rucking them down enough
that no vital parts would get snagged in the zipper. He dug his wallet from his pocket and fetched a foiled packet from one of the compartments.
She stared at the condom, her mind returning to the last one that’d failed to prevent Hunter’s conception.
Dylan must have read something in her eyes that gave away her thoughts because he stalled in the act of ripping the packet open with his teeth. “I can double up if you’re worried about it breaking.”
She shook her head. “My gynecologist put me on birth control after Hunter finished breast feeding.”
“You’re still on it?”
She released a wobbly breath. “Yeah. I’ve had no need for it, but I like the sense of security it gives me anyways.”
Dylan lowered the packet. “I can still wear the condom if it’ll make you more comfortable.”
She had to ask the question. It would be irresponsible not to. “Are you good about wearing them?”
“I’ve never not worn one. But I’d like to forgo it—with you—if you’re okay with that.”
She scooted from the table and straddled his lap. Stroking the planes of his cheeks, she nodded. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. As his tongue played over the tip of hers she reached between them and lifted herself up slightly. Guiding the engorged head of his cock, she rubbed the tumescent gland along the slickened folds of her labia. Their mutual groans blended as one. Slipping her free hand to his nape, she eased herself over his shaft and slowly sank down on his thick girth. That initial penetration sent a shudder through both of them.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Dylan swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You feel fuckin’ amazing.” His gaze full of wonder, he flexed his hips, retreating slightly before sinking in another inch. “So wet, warm, and tight. Like your pussy is giving me an incredible blow job.”
Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker Page 8
