by Layla Hagen
“Hey, sexy trainer, don't we have an appointment?” I asked.
“We do, but I thought we could do it elsewhere.”
“Why?”
“Well, working out in the open air is a thing. Some people say it's more beneficial than indoors because you're out in the sun at the same time and breathing in fresh air.”
I laughed. “We're in New York. I'm not so sure about the fresh air.”
She pinched me. “Hey, don't knock the city, and besides, we have Central Park. You cannot get better fresh air than that.”
“You can if you're in a small town in Montana,” I replied. “Trust me. I know the difference.”
“Always so direct,” she murmured. “Well, I wanted to surprise you with a romantic outing to help you relax before you submit everything. Montana isn't exactly close by. Will Central Park do, mister?”
I smiled at her, pulling her closer to me. “Yeah, it will. Come on, let's go.”
We Ubered to Central Park. She gave the driver precise instructions as to what entry we needed. When we got out of the car, she took my hand, leading me into the park. She was clasping her phone in her free hand, looking at it closely.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“I'm looking at the map of the park. The place I have in mind is somewhat secluded, but it's so secluded that I'm not sure I'm going to find my way to it.”
“Where is it exactly?”
“Not sure, hence the map. Want to help me?” She held the phone in front of my face.
“Babe, your sense of direction sucks. It's the other way.”
She looked over her shoulder, then back at me, grinning. “Oops. You're right. I think I’d manage to get lost in my own apartment.”
I held her close as we walked, one arm around her back, my hand resting on her waist, sliding lower every few steps.
She tilted her head, looking straight at me with an amused smile. “You’re using this opportunity to feel me up, aren’t you?”
“Always. This is a big advantage over the gym, where there are so many prying eyes. I can touch you all I want here.”
“There are people around here too,” she said.
“Yeah, but we don't know these people, so they don't count.”
She laughed. “Dylan logic. I love it.”
We followed the map, and it took twenty minutes to get to the spot she'd marked on it. But I had to admit it was worth it, because it was empty and so deep inside the park, you could be fooled into thinking you were in a forest far from the city if it weren’t for the traffic noises.
“Wow, I guess not many people know about it,” she said.
“Or they get lost on the way.”
“That too. Anyway, look, it's warm, and we can work out here.”
“Babe, there are no weights around here.”
“That doesn't matter. We can improvise. I'm a trainer, and many of my clients don't want to train with anything except their body weight. We can make this work.”
I stepped right in front of her, tilting her head up.
“Or we can not train at all,” I said. “I have a better idea about how we can use this time.”
“Oh really, and what's that?” She was grinning. Next second, I tackled her to the ground, tickling her armpits. She shrieked with laughter, falling on top of me. “You have dangerous ideas, mister.”
“All the time. You were right about being out here. It's relaxing.”
“I can see that. You're already less tense than before,” she said, touching my chest, readjusting her body so she was lying on top of me. Our legs were intertwined on the grass. “You've been burning the candle on both ends over the past few weeks. I thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”
How could she tell? I didn’t say anything, but Mel was paying close attention to me, anticipating my wants and needs in a way that made me fall harder for her.
Gripping the back of her head, I pulled her to me, kissing her hard. Her mouth was addictive and delicious. She moaned against my lips, riling up my instincts. Rolling her over, I explored her neck and her chest, kissing along the neckline of her gym shirt. It was so thin and elastic that I only had to tug at it a few inches and I’d be rewarded with her delicious bare skin.
“Dylan...,” she whispered, pushing her hips into me. “We’re in a park.”
I groaned against her chest. “Think I don’t know that? You drive me crazy.”
She took my face between her hands, bringing it up so we were eye level. “That’s it. No more nipple flashing for you.”
“What?”
“I thought you’d appreciate the view if I wore my training bra since my nipples show easily when I’m turned on.”
I groaned again. “And you thought I’d behave?”
“Yup. Totally misread the situation. Sorry. My bad. Not such a good influence after all.”
“Yes you fucking are. You’ve changed me, Mel. I was so numb to everything before meeting you. I wanted to stay numb.”
“Why?”
“Because it was easier.”
“And now?”
“I like experiencing everything. With you.”
She kissed my neck and chin, wiggling under me. “I like what I’m hearing. Are you happy about the submission tomorrow? Or still stressed?”
“I’ll be relaxed once it’s over. But right now, I’m pissed that there’s a networking event tonight, and I completely forgot about it. But one of my junior project managers is going.”
Her eyes became wary instantly. “I'm so sorry.”
“It's not your fault.”
“Kind of is, though. You're bending over backward to make sure everything's fine with Dad, and you’re neglecting your work.”
I could see her pull into her shell a bit, and I didn't like it at all. “Mel, it's not so bad. Someone else is taking care of it.”
I could tell she was still thinking about it as we lay back in the sun, and I decided not to tell her again. She wasn't used to others thinking of her the way I did and taking care of her. When the going got rough, fucking Elliot ditched her.
“How’s your dad?” I asked.
“Glad to be home again.”
He’d decided a few days ago that he needed to return to his own space. We’d had the door repaired, and Brayden contacted the company that installed the security system for their new house. They did a great job on Martin’s place. He stayed with us longer than strictly necessary, and Mel took him home today. I was sorry to see Martin go because I honestly didn’t mind having him with us. It made Mel feel better.
“So, since we have the apartment all to ourselves, I thought we might take advantage of it,” Mel said.
“How? I have a few ideas.”
She pinched my arm, smiling from ear to ear. “We’ll get to those too, but I have more in mind. We have to be home in forty-five minutes.”
“So specific.”
“My plan is time sensitive. Trust me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
She pinched my arm again. “Hey!”
“Whatever you want, babe.” I skimmed one hand to her waist, gripping it. I cupped her cheek with my other hand possessively. When it came to Mel, I couldn’t be anything but possessive.
“I aim to please.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Mel
I loved pampering Dylan, especially since the previous two weeks had taken a toll on him. Whatever he said, I did feel guilty about him forgetting his cocktail event, but I planned to make it up to him in spades tonight. I was going to surprise him with a romantic late-night dinner. I’d prepared a lasagna this morning after I dropped off Dad. I put it in the crockpot, setting the timer to be ready by the time we were home.
Dylan’s eyes bulged when he noticed the lasagna. He turned around slowly, and I watched with deep happiness as the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. I’d put candles everywhere. They weren’t lit yet, but it still looked very romantic. I’d also set the table.
Dylan took out the lasagna, bringing it to the table.
I felt his eyes on me as I filled both plates. His legs touched mine under the table.
“Babe, this is amazing. You are amazing,” he said.
“I wanted to help you relax this evening so you’re in shape for tomorrow. I know it’s a big day.”
His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t add anything else.
My phone rang midway through our romantic dinner. It was Dad. I immediately answered, a feeling of foreboding already creeping down my spine. He didn’t like late evening calls.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, hoping I was paranoid after the last couple weeks.
“Mel, that good-for-nothing Elliot’s here again.”
“Oh my God. Are you hurt?”
“No, he’s outside the door. Keeps ringing the damn bell.”
I swallowed hard, running a hand through my hair. “I’ll be right there, Dad. Don’t open the door, okay? It’s a high-security door, so it’ll hold.” We hadn’t gotten that restraining order yet. Things were moving so slowly that I wanted to kick something.
“I’m not worried. That door’s more solid than a brick wall.”
“And call the police too, okay?”
“Already did.”
Dylan’s gaze was trained on me. As soon as I hung up, he said, “I heard everything. Come on. Let’s go.”
“I can go by myself. You should go to bed. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Mel, I’m coming with you. End of story.”
“Thank you. Let’s go.”
On the drive to Dad’s house, I couldn’t stop fretting. I kept twisting my hands in my lap, right until Dylan clasped one of them. His touch calmed me almost immediately. By the time we reached Dad’s house, I felt so much stronger than right after the phone call.
But all that strength seemed to go down the drain when I saw Elliot pacing in front of the house. There was no sign of the police. Dylan put an arm around my shoulders after we got out of the car, and we walked toward the front door together.
Elliot froze when he saw us. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“This is my dad’s house,” I said calmly.
“I know. And I’m here to pick up some stuff I couldn’t carry last time.”
I drew in a deep breath, trying to keep my calm. It took me a few seconds to realize Dylan had already lost his. He’d grabbed Elliot by the collar.
“You fucking moron. She gave you all her savings, and you dare show your face?” Dylan bellowed.
“Fuck off, man. You’re not in my position. My business is bleeding money again. I need every dollar I can get for all the shit I gave her. If I hadn’t wasted three years with her, I would’ve made something of myself.”
My eyes instantly started to burn, but I was determined not to let him get to me. I was stronger now than when I broke up with him.
“If it makes you feel better to put your failures on me, I don’t care. But don’t you dare bother my dad. I’m getting a restraining order.”
“Like hell you will. No judge will give you that. You fucking—”
Dylan punched him the next second. Elliot stumbled backward, holding his cheek. “What the hell? Who do you think you are?”
Dylan stepped closer, and Elliot practically cowered into the wall. “The man who sees in her everything you were stupid enough not to appreciate. I’m only going to say this once. Restraining order or not, if you ever show your face around here, that black eye you’ll have tomorrow will be the least of your problems.”
“You think you’re hot shit because you’re wearing an expensive suit?” Elliot asked, but I could tell he was just trying to keep up the bravado.
“Don’t test me more than you already have.” Dylan leaned into him, and Elliot nearly fainted into a puddle. He was such a coward, and I was so damn pissed.
He looked over my shoulder. A police car parked behind Dylan’s BMW. Finally. It was the same police officer who took Dad’s testimony the first time around. I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking why it took him so long to show up when he came up to us.
He glanced at the scene, shaking his head. “Ms. Dawson, did this man attempt a forced entry again?”
“I didn’t touch that damn door,” Elliot said.
“But he’s been in front of Dad’s house for over an hour, consistently ringing the doorbell. Does that count toward anything for the restraining order?”
The police officer nodded. “I’m going to write that up, and based on my experience, it will help your lawyer build up a case.”
“What the fuck?” Elliot exclaimed.
“And you have to leave these premises at once, or you’re coming with me,” the officer said calmly.
“On what charge?”
“Disturbing the peace.”
Elliot swore, spitting on the ground before turning around and walking away briskly.
The officer went over to his car, filling out a report. I immediately took Dylan’s hand in mine, inspecting his knuckles. They were red.
“Is it hurting?” I whispered.
“If I say yes, will you take care of it? Thoroughly?” he teased. His smile was playful, but his gaze was still intense.
I kissed his jaw, shrugging.
“Very thoroughly. That’s a promise.”
He put his other hand around my waist, keeping me close. This man’s protective streak was going to be my kryptonite.
The officer left after handing me his report, and then Dylan and I went inside the house. Dad was in the living room with headphones, listening to one of his YouTube videos. He took the headphones off when he noticed us.
“Everything’s fine, Dad. Elliot left, and the officer gave me a report I can use for the restraining order.”
He looked down at Dylan’s hand. “Did Elliot accidentally walk into your fist?”
Dylan laughed. “He did.”
“I have ice in the freezer,” Dad said.
“I’ll do that at home,” Dylan replied.
Dad looked at the digital clock on his microwave with a frown. “It’s late. You two go home. I’m fine. I’m going to lie down too.”
“Are you sure?” Dylan asked him.
Dad waved his hands in a shooing motion. “Yes, yes.”
“Want me to do anything before I leave?” I asked. I wanted to dote on Dad a bit, but he vehemently shook his head. He was used to having his own space, so I knew better than to insist. Taking care of Dad was always a balancing act. He didn’t like being coddled.
Dylan led me out of the house with an arm around my waist. I loved that he couldn’t stop touching me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked on the drive back.
“Honestly, I’m too overwhelmed by everything. I’m sorry about this,” I said, taking his right hand in mine and kissing his knuckles.
“I’ve wanted to do it since he showed up at your apartment that first time. Fucking moron.” To my astonishment, he chuckled.
“What?” I inquired.
“Ian’s going to have a field day with this. He kept saying we should take matters into our hands. Note the use of ‘we.’ And I kept saying it’s best to stay out of it. He’ll be really proud of my right hook.”
The way they all cared about each other—and about Dad and me—was surreal. I kept kissing and stroking the skin around the reddened knuckles as we approached Manhattan.
Once we were back inside his apartment, I took ice from the freezer.
“I’m sorry that our pre-celebration dinner was interrupted,” I said, running an ice cube gently over his knuckles as we both leaned against the kitchen counter.
He kissed the side of my head. “Doesn’t matter. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? You looked hurt.”
I winced. “Wouldn’t you be? I mean, the things he said... he made it sound like I was the worst choice he’d ever made. I felt so small.” My chest heaved up and down as I inhaled deeply.
<
br /> He tilted my head backward, trapping my gaze with his. “Don’t. You’re fucking amazing, and being with you is a privilege, okay? Don’t doubt that.”
“I’m still reeling from everything. Especially this.” I skimmed my thumb on the back of his hand, below his knuckles. Bringing his hand to my mouth, I rained light kisses on the same spot. “I’ll take care of it.”
“You can take care of other parts too,” he said playfully.
I laughed. “You’re such a guy. Not even some bruised knuckles can take your mind out of the gutter, huh?”
“No way in hell.”
His easy smile turned slightly wolfish. I grinned right back, deciding on my seduction tactic. Should I tease him with foreplay or not?
He decided for me, capturing my mouth as he slid one hand under my shirt, dragging the ice cube up my belly. My skin instantly turned sensitive. I half laughed, half moaned as his hand found a way into my bra cup, moving the cube around my nipple. Pleasure shot through me, straight to my clit. I fisted his shirt, pressing my thighs together.
Holy shit!
“Hey, I thought I was supposed to run this show.” I tried to pretend I was protesting, but I was enjoying his ministrations too much.
“Changed my mind.”
“Of course you did.”
“Anything against that?” he murmured, moving the ice cube to my other breast.
“Nothing at all.”
“Good. Because you’re all mine, Mel, and I’m going to prove it to you tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Dylan
The next day felt like a marathon. I worked from home, wanting to focus 100 percent on the submission. At the office, there was always someone coming in with questions or an update. Mel left for the gym early in the morning, and I locked myself in my home office. I communicated through Zoom with the two team members who’d worked on the code and submission process with me, but ultimately I was the one uploading everything. Ian made fun of me for being a control freak, but I didn’t want to leave any room for errors. My right hand was still hurting from yesterday, so I kept flexing it often.
