by JJ Knight
“Um.” I twist the chair from side to side, twirling the phone’s cord into a knot around my finger. “That sounds good.”
“How soon can you get here? Twenty minutes?”
“I’m at work.”
“I know you are. That’s where I called you, sexy. Why are you whispering? You keep teasing me with that sexy whisper, I’ll have to repay the favor when you get here.”
“I’m not off work until five.”
He groans, his breath sending static to my ear. I can practically feel the heat radiating off him.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he says. “Five o’clock is an eternity away.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
I hear a breathy sound. I can imagine him sucking in air through his clenched teeth. My whole body is tuned to his every sound, my back arched and my muscles tensed.
Softly, he says, “Come over as soon as you can. I’m at the firehall. You remember the way?”
I assure him that of course I remember the address. We say goodbye, and I turn around and hang up the phone. I can feel Nick’s eyes on me, and I’m trying to be cool, but I can’t get this big grin off my face.
Before Nick can get a word out, the elevator dings with a visitor arriving. The doors pull open, and there’s a huge arrangement of flowers covering the visitor’s face.
My heart thuds with panic for a moment, thinking it’s actually Dylan, here at my work.
The guy lowers the flowers from his face. It’s not Dylan. He says, “Where do you want these? You’re Jess, right? The receptionist does not like you.”
My voice comes out squeaky. “Right here is fine.” I shove some boxes over and make room on my table.
This bouquet has red roses, like the ones Dylan brought over Sunday night, plus a bunch of other exotic flowers.
After the delivery guy leaves, Nick finally speaks.
“Jess, you need to be careful.”
I smell the flowers, cupping a fat rosebud in my palm.
“Don’t be jealous,” I say, teasing him. “We can share. I’ll push them over so part of the vase is on your desk.”
“This is too much, too soon,” Nick says. “You just met this guy. You don’t know him. He changed his legal name. Did you know that? He used to be Brandon, and then he changed his name to Dylan. Normal people don’t change their name.”
“It’s not a secret. He told me about his name change. He was going through some stuff and wanted a fresh start.”
“What stuff was he going through?” Nick asks.
I roll my eyes. “Come on. Like you don’t know. Maggie talked about it when he was here for the meeting. If Morris Music knows, I’m sure you know, with all your eyes and ears everywhere.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That he had a wife named Susan. She was kind of a disaster by the sound of it, and then she died in a car crash. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s not suspicious.”
Nick nods. “That is correct.”
“Is there more?” I stare at Nick, wondering what he’s up to. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s jealous. But he did give me some strong hints that he’s gay.
Nick doesn’t answer my question.
“If you know something, you can tell me,” I say. “If you have information, I won’t tell Dylan how I found out. I didn’t tell him about your pervy little spycams, you freak. But I am going to yank those out of the wall as soon as I get to Dylan’s place tonight.”
“They’re wireless. You can unplug the transmitter just outside the front door. I already know everything I need to know.”
“Like what? That he’s just a talented singer who’s working hard on his big break?”
“Jess, it’s not that simple.” He fidgets with the items on his desk, lifting his coffee cup and dusting underneath it with his hand. “Until five minutes ago, you didn’t even know if he was a violent criminal.”
“But he isn’t a violent criminal. You checked with your friend.”
I pull out the tiny envelope and withdraw the card. There’s nothing on the card except for one word: Tonight.
Nick keeps talking, sounding agitated. “Actually, just because there’s no police report of anything from this weekend, that doesn’t confirm anything.”
“Don’t be jealous,” I say, giggling. “Get your own cute boyfriend and don’t worry about mine.”
I zone out, thinking about tonight.
Nick snaps his fingers. “Jess, are you listening to me? You’ve got that glazed-over look in your eyes. Promise me you’ll take it slow with this guy.”
I keep smelling the flowers, trying to ignore the voice of negativity.
Chapter 14
It’s nearly six when I get to Dylan’s place and knock on the blue door.
There’s no answer. I try the handle, and it’s not locked, but I don’t want to barge in.
Now, what did Nick say about his little spycams? There’s a transmitter on the outside, somewhere near the door. I take a few steps back, looking along the ground. What would something like that even look like?
“Hey, sexy,” comes a voice behind me. “Did you drop something?”
I turn around to find Dylan behind me, holding a grocery bag and two pizza boxes.
“Just waiting here for you to answer your door, but I guess you were out. You got pizza?”
“Don’t worry about these boxes, these are just for snacking,” he says, talking a mile a minute. “Open that door and step into my lair, why don’t you, sexy?”
We go inside, and I follow him to the kitchen, where he sets down the pizza boxes. He’s still talking at a rapid-fire pace, telling me about the flatbread pizza shop he discovered down the street.
“These pizzas do smell good,” I say when there’s a pause.
I’m grateful for the food smelling good, because eating will delay what happens next. We’re here, alone, and I’m sure we’ll be having sex tonight. Doing the deed.
OMG. I’ve had sex exactly once, and I don’t feel any more experienced.
I thought I’d feel different after the first time, but I’m still nervous as hell. If Dylan wasn’t so hot, maybe I could pretend we might or might not. But even now, pulling bottles of lemonade out of a grocery bag, the man is pure sex appeal. The way his arm muscles ripple just under his tattoos is hypnotic.
His skin draws my attention. Every bit of exposed skin. My eyes explore his neck, and the small bump of his Adam’s Apple. He’s recently shaved, and his cheeks and jaw look kissable.
Even his hands are gorgeous. The knuckles of his right hand are red, maybe bruised. I space out for a minute staring at his hands.
He’s stopped talking. I jerk my eyes back up to his and find him grinning at me.
“We’ve got reservations somewhere special, but not until later. I didn’t want to starve you in the meantime.”
“Reservations? Honestly, pizza is fine.”
He stops setting out plates and glasses and keeps looking into my eyes.
His eyes and eyebrows are twitching, like he’s thinking a million things at once. He’s definitely in a high-energy mood, and positive. The opposite of how dark he was when he left my house two nights ago.
“You’re here,” he says slowly.
I laugh. “Yes. I’m here.”
“Why am I not kissing you?”
I look down at my feet, suddenly shy.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Not really.” It’s been a while since lunch, but being in the same room as Dylan puts my body in a state of alertness. It’s a type of hunger, but not for food.
He closes the pizza box and walks up to me. He leans down, but instead of kissing me, he takes both my hands in his and looks at my fingers.
“Were these little hands working hard today?” he asks.
“Very hard. Thank you for the flowers. You made my day a lot better.”
He lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses my fingertips. His dark brown eyes lock onto
mine, making me feel dizzy.
“No calluses on your fingers,” he says. The corner of his mouth turns up in a crooked smile. He opens his mouth and gently bites my fingertips.
My body shudders at the touch of his hot mouth on my fingers. He drops my hands and steps in, wrapping his arms around my back. I feel like I’m falling, and he’s catching me.
His mouth is on my neck, his breath hot and heavy by my ear. I moan as my legs go weak.
He moves his mouth up over my jaw and to my lips. I open my mouth, starving for him. He flicks my tongue with his, teasing me to stand up on my tiptoes, chasing after his mouth.
With a low growl that resonates through his wide chest, he reaches down past my lower back. His hands hook under my butt and he lifts me straight up. He sets me on the counter, still kissing me, but just for a moment. He gets a better grip and walks me to the spiral staircase, my legs around his waist.
Up we go, to the bed.
He tosses me on the bed with enough force that my arms fly back. I catch my breath and start to laugh.
He locks on my eyes again, and I stop laughing. The sun is setting outside, and amber light is streaming in the windows across from the bedroom loft. His dark brown eyes are flecked with gold in this light, and his skin looks like honey.
His voice a low rumble, he asks, “How are you feeling?”
I sit up and take off my shoes, muttering about how I don’t usually wear my shoes on people’s beds.
Dylan grabs my bare ankles and moves my legs apart. I’m wearing a gray skirt and blouse. It’s not what I would have worn to come see him, but I did come straight from work. The slim skirt rides up as he pulls my legs further apart.
He asks me again, “How… are you?” He looks pointedly at my underwear, now visible. I’m embarrassed that I’m still wearing virginal white cotton panties, but they’re all I have right now.
I realize what he’s asking about. Am I still sore inside? I’m not sore, but I’m scared this time might hurt.
“Jess, you have to talk to me. I want to make you feel good.” He lets go of my ankles, pulls his shirt off in one movement, and starts unbuckling his belt.
This is happening fast.
I push myself to sit up and start unbuttoning my blouse.
He drops his jeans and climbs onto the bed in his underwear. “Let me do that,” he says.
I put my hands down to my sides and let him undress me. Seeing his hands on my clothing takes my breath away. I sneak a look down his incredible torso, past his muscled abdomen. He’s wearing cotton boxer shorts today, and I can see that he’s already hard. I glance away, scared for a moment about him being inside me.
He kisses my cheek. “Jess, I want you so bad right now. Tell me if I go too fast. I’ll try to hold back, but you smell so good. And your skin…”
He’s got my blouse and bra off, tossed on the floor beside the bed. He rolls me onto my side so he can unzip my skirt. He slides it slowly down my legs. I twist my head back and watch his face as his eyes move over my abdomen and back down. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of my underwear and slowly pulls them down.
He breathes in deeply as he rolls me onto my back. He shifts his body down toward my feet and leans over, kissing me between my thighs. My instinct is to push him away, to not let him taste that intimate area.
His tongue pushes down into that hot flesh, and the sensation makes my arms and neck go weak. He dives deeper, settling his body between my legs and pushing them apart. I resist with muscle tension in my thighs, but not for long. My neck and ears burn with a feverish heat.
He keeps going, licking me and murmuring that I taste good. My back arches. I try to relax, but I’m too excited. I glance down at his face between my legs, but squeeze my eyes shut after a second.
These feelings are so new and confusing, but incredible. He flicks one spot with his tongue, and it’s like he flipped a switch. I’m gasping and writhing on the bed, clutching the covers with my hands.
He eases off the pressure and pulls away. His lips move away from my center, and he kisses his way down to my knees. He moves up again, slowly, kissing the tops of my thighs. He keeps to the side, gliding over my hip bone and then circling my navel, flicking it once playfully with his tongue.
There’s a pause, and I look down to find him watching my face for a reaction. I give him a weak smile. My whole body is warm and relaxed, like melted caramel.
This is fast, but not too fast.
He moves up and lowers his mouth to my nipple, still looking me in the eyes. He kisses my breast and plays with my nipple using his lips and tongue. I feel something between my legs. His hand. He shifts over so he’s lying on his side along my side. At a leisurely pace, he licks my nipples while using his fingers to stroke between my folds. I’m wet and hot, my muscles trembling with tension building.
I’m on the verge of coming when he stops. I open my eyes and find him staring at my face, his face tense with concentration.
“Good so far?” he asks.
I sigh. “Yes.” I roll onto my side so we’re facing each other.
Breathing slowly, I reach up and slip my fingers down into his boxer shorts.
He’s hot and heavy in my hand. I squeeze, not sure about the pressure. Dylan’s breath catches in his throat, and his whole body tenses. He gets even harder as I explore his length with my fingers. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but he seems to enjoy it, so I keep going. After a few minutes, I get brave enough to use both hands to pull off his boxer shorts. Now we’re both completely naked, with nothing between us.
I look down at what I’m holding. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think, but it’s beautiful, like the rest of him. The skin around the head is flushed pink, and the shaft is lined with a network of veins, but mostly smooth.
“Careful,” he says. “Those soft touches with your hands… you’re doing something to me. I can’t wait much longer.”
I touch him some more, exploring the ridges.
After a moment, he pulls my hand away and circles my arm over his side, then rolls back and pulls me on top of him.
The length of him is between us, along the hollow of my hip. He tugs me up along his body and pulls my mouth to his. We kiss, with my hair cascading down around our faces. Our bodies move naturally, rocking against each other.
After a few minutes of kissing, I realize the tip is right between my legs, and I’m so wet, it could just slip in. The desire to push my body down onto his is impossible to resist. I moan and push against him. Dylan catches me by the hips and lifts me back up. I moan, and my body tries again.
He chuckles as he lifts me all the way up onto my knees. “Hang on,” he says. He reaches over to the drawer, grabs and packet, and rolls it on.
Now I’m nervous again, but kissing helps. With his mouth under mine, I lose myself again. I push myself down, gasping at the sensation. He rocks his hips, pushing himself in further. His breathing sounds ragged, like he’s making an effort to go slow. I move up and then down again, moaning. I sound surprised. Pleasantly surprised.
This time, he’s filling me, but I can handle it. There’s no sharp pain, just a pressure. The pressure becomes a dull ache if I stop moving. So I keep moving.
His whole body is rigid underneath me, like steel. My arms keep moving around, like I can’t figure out where they’re supposed to go. Some body movements feel better, but all of them are good.
Through gritted teeth, Dylan says, “How do you like being on top?”
I press my palms against this hard chest muscles and look him in the eyes. I have no words, so I answer with an eyebrow raise.
“No pain?” he asks.
I shake my head, no.
His upper lip curls up in a grin. “Good,” he growls.
Gripping me tightly with one hand across my butt, he flips us over so I’m on my back. He stays inside me.
Looking me in the eyes, he loops his arm under one of my legs and brings my knee up. I blink up at him wond
ering why, and then I feel him plunge deeper inside me. This is deeper than before, and I gasp in surprise. My mind tells me this will hurt, but it doesn’t.
He’s breathing heavily now, thrusting against me. He’s moving with enough force that my breasts shake with every pump. I close my eyelids as my eyes roll up. I let my legs relax, wide apart, encouraging him to go deeper. My whole body rocks with the movement. He’s hard and fills me, plunging deeper, expanding to fill me more.
The mounting tension breaks, and I start moaning as I come.
He keeps pounding, the pace speeding up. “Say my name,” he growls.
Gasping, I moan out his name. “Oh, Dylan.” I cry his name again and again as my orgasm shakes through me.
His breath chokes in his throat, and he slams into me.
One.
Two.
He takes a quick breath.
Three.
He groans and collapses on top of me.
We’re still for a second, and then he covers my mouth with his. We’re breathing as one, kissing, our faces slick with sweat.
He gasps and jerks his hips again, and in the stillness I can feel him pulsing inside me. The sensation pushes me over the edge. My eyes roll up and I’m coming again.
After a few seconds, I’m still moving underneath him, and he’s still.
I open my eyes and see him staring down at me. His face is relaxed, his cheeks flushed.
My body’s still moving, rocking gently under his.
“Jess, I just had you and I want you again.” He chuckles. “But you’ve got to give me a minute to recover, and get this taken care of.” He reaches down between us with one hand and carefully withdraws.
I’m feeling shy again and roll onto my side, covering my breasts with one arm.
He shifts to the edge of the bed and groans as he steps off.
“Are you hiding?” he asks. “I can still see you.”
I giggle and roll onto my stomach. My emotions are bubbling and all over the place. I don’t know what to say, but I’m pretty sure if I open my mouth, it’s going to be something dorky. I don’t want to ruin this incredible moment.
