by J. A. Coffey
"She's against abortion. Adoption freaks her out. The only thing left is to be a single mom."
"She wouldn't be the first."
"I can't picture Donna in that role."
"Maybe she'll surprise everyone."
"And maybe she'll wreck her life and some poor kid's."
"Let's hope not."
Yeah. Let's hope not. She pondered Donna's quandary. For altogether different reasons, a baby had brought disquiet to both their lives. She'd figured out a way to restore order in her house. How could she help Donna? Shay could give her a shoulder to cry on. She could support her, encourage her. Not much else she could do. Donna's fate rested in her own hands. Only she could decide her destiny.
Shay felt thankful and fortunate she didn't have to make such a choice. Dylan rested all comfy and cozy against her. God, she was happy. She stroked the side of his face. "I'm lucky I have a guy like you."
He didn't respond right away. She felt his shoulder muscles bulk and tense. "Pregnant or not, I would never abandon you."
What a glorious night. Fabulous weather. Incredible wine. Relaxing Jacuzzi. Why spoil a good thing? Because Dylan left the door wide open. And it was time. She squeezed her eyes shut, measured her words carefully. "You say you would never abandon me, but in a way you did." She held her breath and felt the tears burn her eyeballs.
Dylan let the statement seep in. He turned his body sideways and pierced her with perplexed eyes. "When did I abandon you?"
"You have to ask?" The question irritated her.
"Yeah," he said, too blase for her liking.
"Okay. I'll play dumb, too. How about the last few months?"
He stood abruptly, startling her. "Abandoned? You told me to stay the hell away from you. That's what I did."
Dylan's beautiful naked body was right there, eye-level with her face. She took in his confrontational stance. Her husband had a point. She'd very clearly told him to stay the hell away. He shouldn't have taken it so literally. She stood up naked in front of him, crowding his space. "Call it whatever, but I still felt abandoned."
"I'm sorry." He gulped the rest of his wine. "But you abandoned me too. Whatever point you were trying to make, it registered loud and clear."
She watched his twisted face. Poor guy had never looked more vulnerable. "Know what?" She brushed a lock of his wet hair. "I got so caught up in everything...I forgot the point." Hoping to lighten things, she let out a chuckle.
"The point is that we had an agreement. You broke it."
"You're right. I did."
"Why? Why did you freak out like that?"
She sat on the ledge of the spa and dangled her legs in the water. "I think about it now. It was pretty stupid." Real stupid, she mumbled under her breath. "It happened right after my birthday. I felt like, oh crap--the big 3-0 is next." She kicked water across the spa, spraying his arm. "You have to understand, there's this unspoken rule that women are supposed to have everything by a certain age. Perfect marriage. Successful career. Great kid. I had two out of three." Her head dropped. "Pretty lame, huh?"
He took her hand and braided their fingers together. "You didn't express it like that originally."
"Would it have made any difference?"
"At least I would have understood. Instead I thought I married a loca." Dylan laughed.
For a while there, loca described exactly how she had felt. "I'm sorry I put you through that. It wasn't very pleasant for me either."
His arms dropped to his sides. "I know I don't articulate my feelings too well. And I know that drives you nuts." He looked at her. "It's who I am. It's what you married."
Her gaze went south. She really did love him. Big heart, big... "That's the thing. We're married. We're a team. You can't shut down like you do. Yell at me. Fight with me. Just say something." She hooked her hand on his waist. "It wouldn't hurt to open up."
Dylan looked away. He didn't have a ready response. "So. Tell me more about this unspoken rule. You know, so I can better prepare."
She knocked him in the ribs. "It's all bull. And I don't buy into it anymore," she said. "What's the point in rushing to have it all? Having it all means having it when everybody's ready. Otherwise you really don't have it all, because someone's unhappy."
He shook his head and rubbed his chin. "I think I actually understood that."
"Wish I would have sooner. Would've saved a lot of aggravation."
"Maybe, but look what you learned."
"I'm laughing now. Wasn't laughing last week."
"No. But that was last week. And I gotta tell ya. I'm really liking this week." His hand captured her breast.
She splayed her fingers over his abdomen. "Me too," she said, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I think we're gonna be okay. And one day we'll make great parents."
He tipped her jaw and gave her a meaningful look. "One day we will."
Her eyes locked onto his. She wondered when he would be ready. How much success did he need in order to feel secure enough to start a family? Did he have a goal? A number? She could wait. How long? Shay cupped her palm over the hand that cradled her breast. "When do you think that day might be?"
Chapter Six
Don't say. Just do.
Dylan couldn't concentrate on the question. Not when this moment reminded him of his sweetest memory of Shay. He laughed to himself. Talk about a hot night. They'd had unlimited, uninhibited access to Shay's parents' compound.
If he were ninety with Alzheimer's, he'd never forget that memory. His eyes raked over her. Long wet locks plastered her skin, faintly hiding the swell of her round breasts. Her eyes were half-lidded and lips were parted, like they were waiting, expecting, anticipating.
His erection grew with each detail. He'd thought he'd seen all her moves. Nope. She'd saved her best for the hot tub. God, it'd been the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. A woman who could fondle herself so candidly--that's the kind of girl he had to marry.
Now here she was, looking a lot like Hot Tub Night. Okay. He could answer her question and talk about babies. Or... They could practice making babies. Babies. Why the damn stall? He wanted a family. What held him back?
Dylan wanted things to be different from the memories he had as a kid. Yeah, he wasn't any worse for it, but he'd lived through the hardship. How many times had they settled for fried eggs with their rice and beans instead of chicken or steak?
Granted, he couldn't compare their life now to his life growing up. He and Shay were much better off. However, their net worth was mostly attributed to her. Maybe that's what bugged him so much. He hadn't married Shay for her money. But that's what her father thought. And that's one of the reasons why he worked his ass off, to prove the man wrong.
His business did well. He poured his soul into making it work because really, that's all he had. He didn't want to answer to someone else. Hell no. He needed to build something for his children so they would never have to struggle, at least not for money. Life would hand them enough challenges.
Dylan stared at his wife. He gently cupped her chin. How could he make her understand? The baby delay had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him. What if his business failed? Where would that leave them? How would he face her father, who thought of him as nothing but a low-life blue collar carpenter-biker? It didn't matter that Dylan had a college degree. It didn't matter that he ran his own company. It didn't matter that he loved the man's daughter more than anything in the world. He'd never be good enough for Dominick Giordano. Maybe he shouldn't have cared. But he did.
Ah, well, who needed negative thoughts? He had better things to focus on, like a naked wife, salacious memories. With Shay so attentive this week...maybe she'd be willing to put on a repeat performance. Dylan was probably taking advantage, but hey. Why not seize the opportunity?
"Remember Hot Tub Night?" He smiled that wicked grin, the kind he flashed when his filthy mind got the best of him. "You look a lot like that right now."
Her eyes didn't waver
. They'd been watching him the whole time. "How do I look?" she asked, cocking a brow.
"Like you want to come." He grinned when her face flushed. She always turned red when he talked dirty. Not from embarrassment. More like excitement.
"I do not." She didn't sound very convincing.
"You don't?" He spurred her on.
"Don't what?"
So shameless and he loved it. "You don't want to come?"
"I didn't say that." Her seductive smile knocked the wind right out of his lungs.
His eyes followed her tongue as it slicked over her plump lip. He splayed both hands against the ledge of the spa, trapping her between them. "So you do want to come?"
"Never said I didn't."
The red in her cheeks grew hotter. He knew all too well what that meant. His baby was provoked. Aroused. "No?"
"I said I didn't look like I want to come."
"Oh, but you do."
She slapped his ribs. "You got some imagination."
"Yep," he said, rubbing the spot. "Want to know what I'm imagining?"
"What are you imagining?"
"You." Molten eyes ran down her length. "Touching yourself."
"Hmm."
"Mmm," he countered.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him to her. "Is that what Dylan wants?"
He hooked her long, silky limbs. "That's what I want."
She spread herself wider, giving him exactly what he needed: an up-close and personal view. "I'll give you what you want if you give me what I want."
Dylan stared at her glistening center. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Focusing on the scenery, he etched every fine detail into his over-worked brain. "What do you want?"
She ran that tongue across her lips again, this time deliberately slow, intentionally erotic. "I want an answer to my question," she said in breathy whisper.
"Touch it." He looked dead into her eyes. "Then I'll give you an answer."
With her legs clasped in his arms, she stared back with equal intensity. "If that didn't sound so hot, I'd swear it was blackmail."
His fingers trailed between her thighs. "Like this," he said, demonstrating what he meant.
Her body jerked forward. She instantly lubricated for him, but then, she always did. Her eyelids closed and her head fell back, exposing her graceful neck, the throbbing pulse beating wildly against her olive skin. "Why should I?" Her words were barely audible.
He buried a finger deep inside her delicious moist heat. "Because it drives me fucking crazy."
Her eyes opened. They shimmered like rare black diamonds. "Why?"
It took everything to quiet his roaring hunger, quell his burning need to plunge into her right here, right now. "Because you look so hot when you do it."
Shay pulled her legs from his grip, propped her butt against the tiled ledge of the spa, and leaned all the way back. "Is this what you want?" She ran a slender finger over herself.
God, he loved a compliant woman. "Yeah," he said, before his eager mouth latched onto a tight, provoking nipple.
She pushed his head away. "This is my show."
He was so ready to claim her again. Sex-starved for months, he had a lot of catching up to do. He wanted his fill, but the sight of her touching herself... That would definitely keep him going a little while longer. "Don't stop," he commanded in a tone as raw as he felt.
She continued her slow exploration, eliciting moans from the two of them.
"Tell me what you're feeling," he said, damn sure he already knew because he felt it too.
Her breaths grew ragged. "My blood is mad hot." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "This right here drives me insane."
Dylan's gaze didn't flinch. Face held tight, nostrils flared, and his erection felt downright painful. What had he done to deserve Shay? She was the ultimate woman, and not just in the sex department. She moaned suggestively, put on a performance that would take another lifetime to forget.
"I'm almost there," she groaned into the night.
He couldn't stop his mouth from latching onto her nipple again. He took her breasts with both hands, tongued the puckered peaks with ravenous strokes.
"Did I say you could do that?" Shay moaned louder.
"I don't need permission." He licked rings around each nipple.
"Think you can do whatever you want?"
"Yep." His mouth worked its way down her body.
"Only if I let you."
"You always do."
"Only because I want to."
"Because you can't stop me."
"I can't?"
"You love it too much," he said, as her body quivered, strained for release.
"I do?" she forced out the words.
Sex with Shay was an ethereal event. Every encounter went into his library of mind-blowing experiences. Some men couldn't imagine making love to only one woman. He couldn't imagine making love to any other woman. "Isn't it better when I do it?" He cupped her hand, followed her strokes.
Her teeth bit into her bottom lip so hard it looked like she'd draw blood. "You're good."
"Just good?" Dylan put his wet mouth over the racing pulse at her neck. He sucked in a patch of skin.
"If I say you're great you'll just get a swollen head."
He looked down and laughed. "Already have one."
"Two swollen heads."
His hands framed her face. "Be honest. Who does it better?"
"Me," she groaned. Right then her body convulsed in a delicious frenzy.
He took his wife's panting lips and rode her waves of pleasure. Wrapping her in a potent embrace, he anchored his frame against the quakes until they subsided.
Shay clasped her hands behind his neck, dug her face into his shoulder. She looked into his smoky blue eyes and smiled. "That'll be a hundred bucks," she quipped.
Dylan drove his mass erection between her twitchy thighs. He would've paid a lot more for that performance. "Don't sell yourself short. You could easily get a grand."
"Yeah?" She stroked his face and rocked herself against him.
"But I'm willing to pay more if you want."
She twined her fingers with his and said, "How about you keep your money and just answer my question. It's free."
Grinning, Dylan shook his head. And we're back on that topic. "You don't forget a thing, do you?"
She nodded. "Well?"
There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, the light-hearted vibe that had been going on between them. He sat on the ledge, dangling his legs in the whirlpool. Collecting his thoughts, he sifted water between his toes. Sexual banter definitely came easier than expressing his feelings. "It's not that I don't want kids," he began. "It's just..."
"That you're not ready. Yeah. I know." Shay sat beside him. "But we can't wait forever."
"No, but we can at least wait until my business is more stable."
"Why is that so important? It's not like we don't have money. Stability. Security."
"It's your money."
"No, Dylan, it's our money."
"No, Shay, it's your father's money."
A clearly flustered Shay kicked at the water, causing a big splash. "You know what, I'm sick of hearing that."
"Sorry, but it's the truth."
"What about us? I work. You work. Everything we have, we've earned."
"Your father thinks--"
"The hell with what my father thinks," she snapped, and rolled her eyes. "You should worry more about what I think."
"And what do you think?"
"I think you put too much emphasis on money."
"Maybe that's because I never had any."
"Yeah, and I did. So what?"
"You can't understand, Shay. You grew up with everything."
"That's where you're wrong."
"Am I?"
"Yeah, you are. Just because I had money doesn't mean I had everything."
"You had more than most."
She shot him a look he knew all too well.
"So that automatically means my life was great, that I didn't have problems."
"I'm sure you had problems."
"Actually, it was my parents who had the problems. I got stuck in the middle of their crappy marriage. All that money, and they were miserable. They didn't even sleep in the same bed." Shay shifted on the hard surface, putting some space between them. "Honestly. I'd rather be broke."
Dylan preferred their bodies to be touching, but he stayed put. "No you wouldn't."
She just shook her head at him. "That's the problem, Dylan. You think too highly of money."
"I want a good life, nice things. What's so bad about that?"
"Nothing. But you take it to the extreme."
"Oh, I take it to the extreme?"
"Yeah. You plan our entire life around your company. What if, God forbid, it fails? Does that mean we'll never have a family?"
He stayed quiet. They'd come from opposite sides of the fence. This was one area where they'd never see eye-to-eye. "I want our kids to have the things they deserve."
"They deserve love. Nurturing. Support. Which they'll have."
"I know that, Shay." Now Dylan grew edgy. What would it take to make her comprehend? "You're just missing the point."
Shay stood abruptly. She snatched a towel off the back of a patio chair and threw it around her dripping frame. "No Dylan, you're missing the point!"
Just like that, she stormed away, leaving him alone and naked. Baffled, he scrubbed a hand down his face. What the fuck had just happened?
Chapter Seven
Distract him. Attack him.
Oops. That wasn't in Shay's Rules of Seduction. Damn Italian blood. She needed to check herself. Short fuse? Yep, she had one. Blame Dominick Giordano for that too. She'd definitely inherited her father's temperament.
Money. Ugh! Most couples fought because they didn't have enough. She and Dylan battled because she had too much. It intimated Dylan, made him feel like she didn't need him, which couldn't have been further from the truth. How many times had she told him that money didn't equate to what he added to her life? He had all the tools to make her happy, and if anything was missing, try communication, not funds. Ah, communication, another hot button in their life, another contributor to so many headaches.
