"I'm kind of the black sheep, I guess. I smeared the family name with all those arrests and stuff."
"But what about your mom? Didn't she have her share of problems?"
"She did," he replied, "but from what I understand, she's gotten over them. She apparently had a come-to-Jesus moment or something, and now she's living this wholesome life with a husband and a son."
"Does she talk to your aunt?"
"I assume so, but I didn't really press the issue. I didn't want to upset her by asking."
They drove in silence for a while, broken only by Dylan giving occasional directions. Eventually, Melissa asked, "Are you mad?"
"At you?"
"No," Melissa replied, "at your family."
He snorted. "Not really. In order for me to be mad, that means I have to care. I gave up on caring a long time ago...about them, anyway."
"That's really kind of sad."
"It is what it is." Lifting his finger, he gestured to a blue house at the top of a small hill. "It's that one."
Melissa pulled in the driveway. "Does she know you're coming?"
"Yeah, I texted her." He removed his seatbelt and hopped out of the car. The front door opened as he headed up the walkway to the house. A woman's arm popped out holding a white plastic bag. Dylan took the bag, turned around and walked away without saying a word.
The door closed behind him.
"Oh, my," Melissa said to no one, stunned by the callous exchange. Once he got back in the car, she commented, "That was fast."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Welcome to my family."
She gripped the steering wheel, desperate to make him feel better somehow. "Do you still have your license?"
"My driver's license?"
"Yeah. Did it get revoked or suspended or anything?"
"No," he replied, "I still have it."
She leaned back in her seat. "Do you want to drive home?"
"You'd let me drive?"
"Only if you want to."
His face lit up. "I haven't driven in ages. I mean, literally over a year."
"Would you like to?"
"Oh, man. I would love to."
"Well, then, come on." She opened her door and got out, with Dylan doing the same.
They switched seats and he grabbed the wheel, caressing it with both hands. "This is amazing. I forgot how good it feels to be behind the wheel."
"Do you remember how to drive?" she asked with a laugh.
"I guess we'll find out."
He put his hand on the back of her seat, looking over his shoulder to reverse down the driveway.
"I have a backup camera," she told him, tapping the screen. "You can just look here."
"Check it out," he said happily. "You have one of those fancy cars."
"Not really," she told him.
"It's better than the hunk of crap I used to drive." He used the screen to navigate backwards into the street. He placed his hand on the gear shifter and then let out a laugh. "This is an automatic. I almost tried to put it into first."
"You're used to a standard?"
"Yeah, that's what I drove back home. Okay, then, both hands on the wheel." They moved forward, the smile never leaving his face. He kept repeating how good it felt to drive until they pulled into his driveway. "Man," he said emphatically, "that was fantastic."
"Well, maybe you can drive me around," she told him as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'm not as enamored with driving as you are. I'd rather be a passenger, honestly."
"You'd let me drive?"
"Sure."
He didn't move from his seat, causing her to look over at him. He had a childlike grin on his face as he sat there, staring at the steering wheel.
She'd made him happy, and she liked it.
"Are you ever getting out?" she asked him.
He shook his head rapidly, snapping into the present. "Yeah," he said. "Sorry."
"No problem." They got out of the car and headed toward the house.
"Oh, I'm just automatically coming in," she said, suddenly aware of what she was doing. "I'm sorry...do you mind?"
"No," he said, holding the door open for her. "I expected you to come in."
She felt herself get excited, though she remained calm while she simply replied, "Thanks."
They entered his kitchen, where she'd been gripping the counter just the day before, and she grew even more heated. Clearing her throat, she turned and said, "You know, it occurs to me that, if I do let you drive my car, you technically owe me a favor in return."
He seemed to think about the comment, ultimately saying, "That sounds fair. What do you have in mind?"
She tapped her chin, looking innocently toward the ceiling. "Hmmm...let me see." She kept him in suspense by taking a while to answer. Eventually, she announced, "I think I would like to watch you take a shower."
"I'm pretty sure that can be arranged."
"Complete with a hair washing," she added, raising a finger.
"I can do that."
"And I kind of want it to happen now."
He looked at her with an intensity that made her knees weak. "Well, then, follow me." He turned and headed toward the bathroom.
She eagerly trailed behind him, taking a seat on the edge of the sink once they arrived. The bathroom was small, so she wasn't getting as much of a full view as she'd wanted, but she would take it anyway.
He turned on the water and then lifted his shirt over his head, revealing those tattoos that made her crazy. She wanted to ravage them with her mouth, but she waited patiently instead, bobbing her foot with anticipation for what she was about to see next.
Looking her in the eye, he reached for his button and zipper. She bit her lip as he pulled his pants down. He already had an erection.
She sucked in a breath, noting, "That didn't take you long."
"He's always ready," Dylan replied with a smirk.
"I'm learning that."
Once the shower was warm, he stepped in the stream. Melissa watched as the water rolled deliciously down his chest and stomach, soaking his skin, making his body shine. She paid special attention to the water that flowed down the center, eventually dripping from the end of his cock. She wanted to devour him, but again, she made herself wait.
He reached over for the soap, rolling it around in his hands, working up a lather. He rubbed the suds over his chest and shoulders, covering his body in an erotic layer. The bubbles worked their way down his body, coating every inch of him.
She found herself unable to move.
Leaving himself soapy, he leaned back into the water, letting it soak his hair. He reached up and massaged his scalp, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the sensation. Once he was completely wet, he reached for the shampoo, pouring it into his hands and then working it into his hair.
She watched breathlessly as his fingers wriggled the shampoo into a lather that washed all down his body. After he got good and soapy, he opened his eyes and looked at her, raising his eyebrows for a brief, sexy second before tilting his head back into the water. The bubbles poured down him.
Once again, she found herself looking at his incredible cock.
After his body became free of the suds, he seductively shook his head and asked, "Why don't you come in and join me?"
She didn't say a word as she slid off the counter and removed her clothes. Stepping over the edge of the tub, she pulled the curtain closed, giving them a little part of the world that was just their own.
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and traded places with her, allowing the water to run down her back. She closed her eyes and leaned backwards so the water could soak her hair. As she did, she felt his slippery hands starting to explore her breasts. Glancing down, she saw him rubbing soap all over her. He never took his eyes off of her.
Once he had covered her with lather, he put the soap back on the shelf and pulled her in close. He kissed her with a wide, eager mouth as the water hit their faces. He soon had her pinned
up against the shower wall, kissing her hungrily, his hands sliding easily up and down the front of her body.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered between kisses. "I'm not a fan of shower sex."
Without a word, she pulled the lever, making the shower water disappear. They hopped quickly out of the tub, rushing toward the bed, lying on the covers. Dylan was soon on top of her, looking down, his face and hair still wet.
He looked hotter than she had ever seen him.
He worked his way down her body, his tongue soon finding its way to her most intimate places. He seemed to be in no hurry as he used both his fingers and mouth to toy with her. She savored every stroke, spreading her legs as wide as she could, letting him do whatever he pleased.
After her first climax, she seductively whispered, "Why don't you spin around and let me have you, too."
He raised his eyes to hers, and with a few final kisses, he tore himself away. He propped pillows against the headboard and lay on his back, looking absolutely amazing. He wordlessly spread his arms, inviting her to get comfortable on top of him.
She waited one extra moment, enjoying the view before spinning her body around. She straddled his face, lowering her breasts onto his stomach. Gently using her fingers, she lifted him into her mouth, taking in as much of him as she could. She felt the warmth of his tongue hitting her body, causing her to devour him more furiously. Aware that she wanted this to last, she controlled herself enough to slow it down, making her motion more of an erotic tease than a means to an end.
She spent forever pleasuring him, feeling waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. She could have done this for hours, but the frenzy became too much. She needed him. She felt like she was going to explode if he didn't go inside her.
Raising her head and lifting herself off of him, she prepared to straddle him, but he got off the bed and stood next to it instead. "Lay on your back," he told her.
She looked at him with wide eyes, eager to discover what he had in mind. Doing as she was told, she lay sideways across the bed, spreading for him, waiting for him to climb back on top of her. Instead, he grabbed her legs and yanked her toward him so her bottom landed just off the edge of the bed. After using one hand to guide himself inside of her, he put his hands on her ankles and spread her legs apart. With his arms extended wide, he started to work her.
Crazy with desire, she ran her hands through her own hair, ultimately sliding them down her body and onto her breasts. She caressed her nipples, causing a tingling sensation that reached all the way to her fingertips and toes. She worked her way further down, eventually rubbing herself between her legs with both hands as Dylan continued to let her have it.
She simply couldn't get enough of him.
She rubbed furiously as an orgasm took over her whole body. Once she was done, Dylan closed her legs together and put them on his shoulder, continuing to work her feverishly. She reached her arms out the side, desperately looking for something to grab. She gripped the sheets, pulling them into her fists, banging her head back onto the mattress as her body convulsed. She was climaxing again.
He was able to do that to her so easily.
Soon after, Dylan let out his erotic, throaty groan, signaling he was also done. He slid out of her, gently lowering her legs to the bed. He stood for a moment with his hair still dripping wet, throwing his head back, his face reflecting how much of a release he'd just had.
She wasn't sure she would ever stop wanting him.
He eventually crawled on the bed next to her, lying face down with his head resting on his crossed arms. She checked out the back of him, which she hadn't spent nearly enough time inspecting. His bottom was tight and round, slightly paler than the rest of his skin. His marijuana leaf tattoo was visible to her, too, and it reflected the painful journey this beautiful young man had been through. He was so perfectly imperfect; she just couldn't get enough of him.
He raised his head, flipping his hair out of his face. "So," he asked adorably, "did I earn my driving privileges?"
Chapter 20
Melissa let out a little giggle. "You can drive wherever you want." She placed her leg comfortably on top of his, drinking in the feel of his body. With the euphoria of the moment still fresh on her skin, she added, "You know, I have to admit...I'm surprised that you've never had a long-term girlfriend."
"I'd consider eight months long term."
"Yeah, I agree, actually. I guess I should say that I'm surprised she didn't wait for you to come out of juvie. Didn't you say it was a short sentence?"
"Only about a month or two."
"Exactly. And I'm assuming you'd slept with her at some point in your relationship?"
"I slept with her at lots of points."
Melissa shook her head. "I definitely don't get it, then. I'd be willing to wait a couple of months for this."
"You're not looking for a husband, though, remember? Apparently, all those girls were trying to stick to their schedules, and my criminal activity didn't exactly fit into them."
Melissa let out a sigh. "I suppose." Putting her arm under her head, she added, "You know, it occurs to me that you still haven't answered my question."
"What question?"
"If any girl has ever broken your heart. You said you'd been disappointed by a bunch of girls, but you've never really let me know if you've been in love."
"You are desperate to know this for some reason, aren't you?"
"Maybe."
"Okay, let me think." He flipped over onto his side and put his arm across her stomach. It felt so natural, Melissa could picture them doing this every day for the rest of her life. The vision was so tangible it was frightening.
"I guess the girl I fell for the hardest was Rachel," Dylan went on.
A twinge of jealousy filled her. This Rachel girl apparently could have had what Melissa wanted so desperately, but she threw it away. Melissa would have held on to that with both hands.
"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," Melissa said as if she wasn't having those thoughts. "Tell me about Rachel."
"I met her when I was nineteen. We worked together at that shipping company I told you about."
"She loaded trucks?"
Dylan let out a laugh. "She was about five foot nothing and twenty-two pounds. No, she didn't load trucks. Her father owned the company, so she was the receptionist."
Melissa felt herself get nervous. "I thought you said you liked women with a little more meat on their bones."
"Generally, I do, but I'm not going to refuse to date a girl because she's too skinny. I'm not that shallow."
"Sorry...I didn't mean to imply you were."
"You didn't. I'm just clarifying. I actually liked Rachel because she was different than most girls," he continued. "She had lots of tattoos; she had one on each knuckle. Well, not the knuckle, but just below it. She also had a sleeve going up one of her arms."
Melissa looked even less like this girl than she had a second ago. She was beginning to regret asking about Rachel.
"I remember she really liked animals," Dylan went on. "She spent a lot of time volunteering at the shelters. She was always bringing in pictures of dogs that needed a home, trying to convince me to adopt one of them."
"I'm surprised you didn't take the bait to impress her."
"I couldn't stay out of jail more than six months at a time, and I knew it. If I got a dog, it probably would have ended up back in the shelter."
"It's a little bit sad that you couldn't get a dog because you knew you'd be back in jail."
"Well, I wasn't exactly counting on going back to jail, but I realized it was a distinct possibility. I smoked weed—and sold it—so I definitely ran the risk of going back. As strange as it sounds, I cared enough about the dogs to not adopt one. I would have been a bad owner. They would have been better off going to a family."
"So, what was special about this girl?"
"I think I liked her because she didn't care. I mean, she cared about dogs, but she was no
t at all concerned about what people thought of her. And it wasn't like she just acted like she didn't care...she genuinely didn't give a...you get the idea." He tucked his hair behind his ear and returned his arm to her stomach. "You know, I always get a kick out of the people who spend hours getting ready in the morning, making sure they can achieve the look that lets everyone know they don't care. If they spend that much time getting ready, then it's clear that they really do care."
"I had never thought of that."
"It kills me every time. But Rachel would show up at work in sweatpants. That's a sure sign that someone isn't concerned with what other people think. And she worked at a trucking company, so she heard her share of foul language, and she wasn't offended. In fact, she'd give it right back to them, sometimes ten times worse. She was funny like that."
"Did you date her?"
"For a while, I did." Letting out a laugh, he said, "I used to hang around her desk on my break...this was before we started dating. One day she was just like, 'so, are you going to ask me out, or are you just wasting my time?' I told her I was just waiting for the right time to ask, and she made it clear that I'd waited long enough and she was about to lose respect for me for being pathetic."
"That's kind of bold."
"I'm telling you, she was a bold girl. Unlike other girls that were confusing, there was nothing mysterious about her. She just told you whatever she was thinking. There was no question about what was going on in her head. I really liked that at the time, because I was tired of trying to figure out girls."
"I get that," Melissa said, although she'd never been one to disclose what she was thinking. Her thought processes were often a giant secret known only to her.
"I remember the first time we had sex," Dylan went on. "We were fooling around, and she was just like, 'Are you ever going to...screw me?' But she didn't say screw."
"Oh, my."
His shoulders bounced as he laughed. "I know. She was definitely a straight-shooter. But, I have to admit, I wasn't all that upset when she said that."
"I'm sure you weren't."
"She also used to page me to the front desk at work to tell me she was horny. She'd insist that I needed to take my break at the same time as her so we could go out to the car and do it in the parking lot."
What She Needed Page 12
