It’s not the same smile he’s giving Ms. Gorgeous.
Right.
“I promise I wasn’t slacking.” Teasing lined Dylan’s voice when she drew within earshot.
Sydney made her mask-smile even wider. Was she overcorrecting? She probably looked like she was grimacing. “No worries. I’m not a total slave-driver.” She forced a chuckle.
“No? Shame, he might like that.” Ms. Gorgeous nodded at Dylan.
He rolled his eyes but looked amused. “Tori, this is my temporary boss, Sydney. Syd, this is my cousin. She’s heading up the cosplay parts of the con. Got me the volunteer gig.”
Cousin. Of course. Could I be anymore cliché? But Sydney couldn’t ignore the relief that flowed through her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same.” Tori trailed her gaze over Sydney. “He’s right. You’re cute, in that sexy-vixen kind of way. Do you cosplay?”
He told someone that about her? “Not really.” She didn’t care if other people ignored body-type for a costume, but she’d never been comfortable squeezing into spandex bodysuits or short skirts.
“You should. I’ll hook you up sometime. And I’m sorry to meet and run, but I’m supposed to be in a panel soon. Nice meeting you,” she said to Sydney. “I’ll call you later,” she called over her shoulder to Dylan as she walked away.
Less than a day into the actual con, and this was already one of the more random shows Sydney’d ever been to. She was good with that, as long as more of the random leaned toward complimentary friends and family and farther from cash box thieves and their overprotective mothers.
The rest of the day was uneventful, beyond the fact that Dylan was an incredible salesman. Sydney didn’t know the last time she’d had such a good first day. She was looking forward to heading up to her hotel room—she always got a room, even for local shows, because it was less stressful than commuting—and curling up with a book, and maybe some fantasies about Dylan.
He held up the flier Poison Ivy gave them earlier. “You up for a party?”
She’d forgotten about that. Her instinct was to say no. She definitely wasn’t a party person. That it was him asking made her hesitate. “Sure. I could do that for a little while.” Except not like this. She was dusty and sweaty. “If there’s time for me to clean up first.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. He had to be local if he worked for Hunter & Associates. Would he get bored, waiting for her? Decide it was easier to go home?
Why couldn't she shut her brain up?
“I doubt anyone is going to care if we’re not there right when things start.” Dylan’s reply saved her from her thoughts. “Meet me back in the lobby in an hour? Is that enough time?”
It was probably too much. Her head would think her into a million different scenarios between now and then. “Thirty minutes?”
“Even better. Until then.” He grasped her fingertips and kissed the back of her knuckles.
Heat flooded under her skin until she thought she might combust. “Until then.” Her reply came out as a squeak.
The next half hour crawled at a snail’s pace and moved at lightning speed simultaneously. Sydney took the quickest deep-scrub shower in history. Everything had to be scrubbed and pristine and flowery-smelling.
Her hair would have to stay pulled up, though. Washing and drying it took eons.
She stood in front of her luggage, shaking her head at every piece of clothing she’d brought. Why did she have to be such a practical packer? It was all jeans and T-shirts. Not even notable ones. All of it meant to be comfortable for a day of standing around and working.
At least she’d brought cute panties. Not that it would matter, but her imagination had already jumped ahead several hours. On the teensy, tiny chance he wanted to stick around for the night, she’d be happy she had the cotton bikini briefs with the subtle Wonder Woman logo on the left hip.
Or was that stupid? Did she wish she’d brought lace?
“Shut up, brain,” she said aloud, to kick herself out of her head.
When she was finally ready, there were eight minutes left of her thirty. She sat on the edge of the bed. How long did the elevator ride down take? If she left now, would she be too early? She didn’t want to keep him waiting, but she didn’t want to appear over-anxious.
Why not?
Good question. Was it such a big deal if he thought she was eager?
She was looking for reasons to procrastinate. She grabbed her wristlet and headed downstairs.
Dylan was already in the lobby, and he flashed her a drop-dead sexy smile when she caught his eye. “You ready to see what all the excitement is about?” he asked.
“Now’s as good a time as any.”
He produced the flier from Poison Ivy, noted the room number, and a moment later, they were knocking on the door to the second-floor suite.
“Hey. You made it.” Ivy opened the door enough to see them. The room behind her was dark. “Before I let you in, you have to promise you’re both over the age of eighteen and that you’re not easily offended.”
Odd disclaimer.
Dylan glanced at Sydney, and she shrugged. “I promise,” she said.
“Me too. Adult. Not easily offended.”
Ivy’s smile grew, and she let them in. The suite connected to another, and the entry between was open. Faint flickers came from the other rooms. “Contemporary and school girls behind me, occult and fantasy in the other living room, and tentacles in the second bedroom. Take your pick. It’s like Las Vegas—what happens here, stays here. Enjoy.” She winked.
Tentacles?
“What’s your poison?” Dylan whispered, his breath hot against Sydney’s cheek.
“Occult and fantasy?”
He rested a hand at the small of her back and steered her toward the adjoining room.
The TV on the far wall was playing anime. A flush covered the priestess’ cheeks, and a pixelated penis was thrust into her mouth.
Correction, they were playing hentai—anime porn.
In the room, a couple sat on the couch, and another in the chair next to them. A girl was reclined in the corner on a beanbag. They were all in various states of undress, groping themselves and each other while the video played.
Heat spilled through Sydney’s veins.
“Pick a room or leave.” An irritated woman’s voice came from behind.
Dylan pressed his frame into Sydney’s back, nudging her out of the doorway. His hard length pressed into her ass.
He was turned on by this? Then again, the throb and growing dampness between her thighs confirmed she was too. Not because of the cartoon. Rather, the people in the room, exploring each other, not caring who watched, had her pulse hammering in her ears and her nipples straining against her bra.
Dylan brushed the edge of her ear with his lips. “Do you want to stay?” His question was so soft, she barely heard it.
Yes. Fuck yes. Arousal and curiosity kept her feet to the floor. Propriety and everything else she’d ever experienced told her this wasn’t where she wanted to be. Would he stay without her if she said no? Make himself comfortable with the solo girl with the blue hair, whose gaze kept flicking to them as she pushed her shirt up to tease her breasts through her bra?
“Do you?” Sydney asked.
He slid his hands to her hips, then forward along her pelvis. “I’m thinking about it. But not alone.”
“Maybe for a little while.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded.
He leaned against the wall, tugging her with him, her back pressed to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Kind of hot, isn’t it?” His voice was still low, not meant to reach beyond her.
Cartoons fucking? Not her thing. Though she was a teensy bit captivated by the priestess, who seemed to be enjoying sucking on one pixelated man while another penetrated her from behind.
“The potential audience, that is.” Did his voice just drop an octave?
>
She didn’t have an extensive sex life of experience to draw on, but she had her fantasies. One she’d only ever told Josh about, and loved to fall into alone, was being on display—knowing someone was getting off watching her do the same.
“Yes.” Her reply came out a dry squeak, and she licked her lips.
Blue was watching them rather than the TV, her eyes wide and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She worked one breast free from her bra and teased a thumb along her nipple.
Sydney’s imagination was running rampant with fantasies of Dylan, stripping her down in front of the private group. Teasing her until she begged to come. Of him, freeing the erection that teased her back and letting her wrap her lips around it.
There was no way she could do any of that. It was called fantasy for a reason.
The need thrumming under her skin and the subtle sway of his hips nudging her insisted she take the opportunity if she had it
Dylan traced his mouth up the side of her neck, not making contact but leaving a trail of temptation in his wake. He nipped her ear with his teeth, and her desire spiked. “God, I want to find out how wet you are,” he murmured.
Fear stole her voice, and need hammered at her skull. The atmosphere in the room erased a layer of her inhibition. If she said no and walked away, how badly would she regret it?
Maybe she wouldn’t. She could always play out the what if in her head, on her own time.
But she wanted to find out for real. She undid the button on her jeans and pulled down the zipper, intently aware of Blue’s eyes on their every move.
Sydney covered Dylan’s hand, eliciting a groan, and guided it under her panties.
“Fuck, Syd.” He pressed his lips into her shoulder and moved his hand lower.
Blue watched them, lips slightly parted, and mimicked Dylan’s motions, dropping her own hand into her pants.
Sydney gasped when Dylan dipped between her legs. The couple in the chair turned in their direction, and her heart leaped into her throat.
They wore soft smiles.
Holy fuck, she was really doing this. Not that anything was visible, but—
Dylan brushed her clit. “You’re soaked. You like being a show?”
“Yes.” So much better than in her head.
He teased her swollen button, caressing it until she thrust against his hand, then easing off. The heat of their audience’s stares burned through her.
A new wave of boldness surged inside. She hooked her thumbs on the waistband of her clothes, and pushed her jeans and panties down, just enough to put her pussy on display.
“Fucking hell.” Dylan bit her shoulder. He stroked her clit faster, and she closed her eyes, falling into the sensation.
He hit the right angle, and climax sparked inside. She bit the inside of her cheek, to keep quiet, but a moan slipped out anyway.
Dylan pushed her past orgasm, rubbing as she pushed into his touch. He eased off as the thrust of her hips slowed.
Her eyes fluttered open.
They still had a captive audience.
“I want to feel your lips around my cock,” Dylan said.
The heady buzz of coming lingered in her head. She’d let him strip her naked and fuck her bent over the back of the couch right now, if he asked. She spun to face him, showing her bare ass to the room.
A loud hammering on the outside door screamed through the room, and her hammering heart threatened to burst through her ribs.
“This is the hotel manager,” a man called. “Can you open up, please?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Dylan had never seen a group of people yank their clothes on so fast. Not that he spent much time around large groups of naked people.
“We’ve had some complaints about activities in these rooms.” The hotel manager’s voice drifted in.
“I... We’re not doing anything wrong.” Ivy’s earlier confidence was gone.
Dylan felt bad for her. Being sexy and flirting with other con-goers was one thing. Facing down an authority figure was an entirely different beast.
It was going to be tough for Dylan to think through his hard-on, but it was going limp anyway. Talk about a mood-killer. He needed to step in.
“You can’t be doing... certain activities... in here,” the manager said.
Dylan looked at Sydney. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “Should we go?” she mouthed.
“Soon.” He couldn’t listen to this. He joined Ivy. “Is there an issue?” Dylan asked.
The hotel manager paled and took a step back. “We’ve had complaints.”
“Plural? That sounds serious.” Dylan kept his tone even and cool. “What kind of complaints?”
“Well... that is, someone said there were... things going on. Look at the way she’s dressed.” The manager nodded at Ivy.
She wrapped her arms around herself and ducked her head.
Dylan hated that someone had tattled. “Her clothing isn’t in question. This is a private room. The young lady is current on her account, isn’t she?”
“I...”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.” Some of the confidence returned to Ivy’s voice.
“And there’s no damage being done to the room. We’re not making excessive noise,” Dylan said.
The manager worked his jaw up and down. “But there are things happening.”
“Things.” Dylan let disdain leak into the word. “Consenting adults, watching movies and enjoying each other’s company? Those types of things? Tell you what. How about you give the police a call? Ask them to remove us from the premises. Make sure to tell them to bring multiple cars, so they can transport everyone. I’m sure no one will wonder about the paying guests, being escorted from the grounds because you don’t like the same kind of movies we do. And I’m certain Corporate won’t mind the multiple phone calls tomorrow, from our attorneys, as we seek damages for mental pain and anguish.”
The manager clenched his jaw. His face matched his red vest. “If I get so much as a hint of a complaint about noise or damages, I’m coming down hard on you.”
Dylan swallowed a response to the innuendo.
“I understand,” Ivy said. “Is there anything else?”
“No.”
Ivy gave the manager a sweet smile and closed the door on him. She whirled to face Dylan and threw her arms around him. “Thank you.” She pressed her lips against his neck.
He politely but quickly extracted himself from the embrace. “I’m here with someone.”
“Oh.” Ivy’s face fell.
Dylan turned to Sydney, who watched with an unreadable expression. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Thanks for the evening,” he said to Ivy. “It was... exhilarating. But we’re going to go finish someplace more quiet.”
Sydney leaned into him as they walked from the room. They passed an empty alcove in the hallway, where the ice machine was tucked away, and he pulled her in. Pressing her to the wall, he trailed his lips along the edge of her ear. “That was wicked fun.”
She sighed. Her curves molded to his body, teasing and tantalizing. “Turns out I don’t mind sharing my knight in shining armor, under the right circumstances.”
“I don’t have anyone extra in my hotel room, but if you want to pick up where we left off...” He let the implied offer hang between them. Fuck, he hoped for a yes. Even this basic contact had him hard again. Images of her full lips wrapped around his cock danced in his thoughts. Fantasy mingled with the reality of what she’d let him do—literally gotten off on—in front of the small audience.
“The gold-pass people are allowed on the vendor floor at eight. I have to be up early.”
That sounded like a no. “Should I walk you back to your room and leave you for the night?”
“No.” She winced as the sharp word slipped out. “I’d love to join you. I’m just letting you know I have to be up early.”
“That’s fine.” He grabbed her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. “I wasn
’t going to let you sleep, anyway.” He tilted her chin up with his finger and crushed his mouth to hers. He glided his tongue along the seam of her lips, until she parted them and let him in. Heat roared through him, pulsing under his skin and wanting to be closer.
It took immense effort to break away. “We should go,” Dylan said. “I don’t think Mr. Hotel Manager will be so willing to walk away if he finds us out here.”
“Probably not.”
He slipped a hand in her back pocket on the walk to the elevator. When a car stopped, there were three people inside. He led Sydney to the back corner and slid a hand under her shirt, to rest on her stomach. She leaned more of her weight against him.
The group wasn’t paying attention to them, but if anyone turned around, they’d get a hint of a show. Dylan slid his hand higher, to tease Sydney’s nipple through her bra.
She ground her ass against him, and his dick whimpered for release.
The lift stopped, and the other people got out. As the doors slid shut again, Dylan tugged down Sydney’s bra, to cup her bare breast.
“Aren’t there cameras in these things?” Despite her question, she leaned into his touch.
“Probably. Do you want me to stop?”
Her, “No,” was breathless.
When they reached his floor, he helped her straighten her clothes and led her to his room. He didn’t know what it was about her that made the reckless behavior so tempting.
It was probably because she was so tempting. Fun. Desirable...
The instant the door closed behind them, he cupped her face and kissed her hard. They should move further into the room. He was enjoying her soft gasps and the way her hip ground against his erection too much to break away. Even for a heartbeat.
“You said something about picking up where we left off?” Sydney’s tone was soft, but desire lit up her eyes.
Did he? All the blood had rushed from his head. “That sounds familiar.”
She watched him through her eyelashes, holding his gaze as she knelt in front of him. Her wide-eyed, eager innocence pulsed through his veins and hammered in his ears. She dragged down his zipper and licked her lips.
Fuck. Was that a conscious reaction? Her fingers were hot against his cock when she worked him free, and he groaned.
Roll Against Betrayal Page 3
