Corinne smiled and nodded as she allowed her hands to roam up his bare shoulders and the nape of his neck.
“You’re the boss,” she told him.
“You mean that?”
“Why not? I like everything you do to me, Dylan.”
He captured her lips quickly, seductively. “In that case, strip. Slowly.”
Corinne backed up, reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head, tossing it to the side. With her eyes locked on his, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her thong and slid it down. She kicked it aside and put her hands on her hips.
“Sorry,” she told him with a smile. “Hard to go slow when you’re wearing so few clothes.”
Dylan shoved his shorts and boxers down and tossed them aside to land off somewhere near her pile. “I see what you mean.”
She took in the sight of his hard male body and her own body instantly responded.
“I could look at you all day,” she whispered.
“I hope while you’re looking you feel the need to touch,” he told her. “Because I plan on touching you a lot.”
Corinne stepped toward him, the ache inside her spreading throughout and the anticipation of what was to come nearly buckling her knees.
“I’ve never wanted someone more,” she told him as she came to stand before him. “Don’t make me wait.”
In a flash, he snaked his arms around her waist, molded his hands to her rear and pulled her against him. Thunder shook the house, a streak of lightning lit up the sky through the narrow window.
Dylan’s mouth covered hers, his tongue darted in to tangle with her own and Corinne pressed herself fully against him. She wanted to feel that strong body against hers, she wanted all the contact she could get because she knew, no matter what, there would never be enough. Not when it came to Dylan.
His hands roamed up her back, then down again to her rear. He lifted her off the floor, never breaking contact with her mouth. Corinne wrapped her legs around his waist, the tip of him coming to rest where she ached most.
“Condom?” she asked against his mouth.
“We didn’t use one last time. Are you okay without?”
“More than okay.”
He backed her against the wall and slammed into her. Corinne squeezed his shoulders as he pumped in and out of her. His mouth slid down her throat and back up to claim her mouth. He kept one hand on her backside and brought the other one to her breast.
Between those talented hands all over her, his mouth devouring her and the pace he set with his hips, Corinne wasn’t going to last long.
She tore her mouth from his. “Oh, Dylan…”
Her back arched against the wall, forcing him deeper into her. With her breasts tilted up now, he wasted no time in claiming one with his tongue. Moistening her nipples then teasing her even more by blowing on the dampness.
Her body started to tighten and he knew it. Dylan reached between them, raking his thumb over her most sensitive spot, and sent her straight over the edge.
She gripped those firm shoulders as the orgasm slammed into her. Before she could come back to reality, Dylan’s body was pumping faster, sweat had broken out on his forehead.
He gripped her hips with both hands and slammed into her one last time before his body shook. His eyes were shut, his head tipped back, mouth open as if he wanted to scream but held himself back.
She wanted all of him, wanted to see him utterly and completely powerless. But when his body stopped trembling, Corinne knew she had her work cut out for her.
The next time, he was hers. In every form of the word.
Chapter Nine
Sunshine beamed in through the slats of the blinds on Dylan’s wide window, which overlooked the ocean. Morning brought not only much more pleasant weather, but a bit of uncertainty, considering she’d woken up in Dylan’s bed after they’d made love. Twice.
She clutched her clothes—well, his, technically—as she stared down at the sleeping man who’d fulfilled every single one of her fantasies last night…and some she didn’t even know she had.
He lay on his stomach, arms wide as if he still had her pinned to the navy sheets. His face scrunched against his pillow and the sheet dipped low to reveal the majority of one very fine backside.
So why wasn’t she hopping right back into that bed and begging for a repeat performance? Because she was one hundred percent pure chicken. She knew getting intimate with Dylan would only make her old feelings jumble with the new ones and have her wanting, wishing for things she couldn’t have.
But, God, if she could have a future with anyone, she was almost certain it would be this man. Even time hadn’t diminished the bond they’d shared. Yes, they were two different people now, but all that proved was how strong their ties were.
Her heart clenched, her throat clogged. Nothing good would come from them spending so much time together, from being intimate over and over.
She pulled his oversized tee over her head, slid into a new pair of baggy sweats he’d lent her and tiptoed from the room. She’d retrieve her clothes from the laundry room, leave his and head for home. She wondered who in the neighborhood would see her doing the walk of shame from Dylan’s house to hers, but the way this town thought of her, she really didn’t care. Could her reputation get any worse?
The media had made her out to practically be some drug lord and once the media says it, the majority of the public takes all that gossip as gospel.
Corinne changed quickly and headed out the back door. The fresh smell of the ocean was always a wonderful way to wake up, but all the debris all over Dylan’s yard and the small private beach down the way was going to take some work.
She hated to see the damage to her own yard. No matter what it was, though, she intended to see her parents first. Then she’d come home and do damage control and cleanup.
As she rounded her fence, she stopped short at the sight of the old oak tree, which was now missing one of its larger limbs. That limb was on top of the front porch and had collapsed the roof over the porch.
She ran closer to get a better look. From all the leaves and small limbs shooting out, she couldn’t tell if the damage went into the house too. Either way, she had a mess on her hands.
Raking her fingers through her still-matted bedhead, Corinne sighed. Looks like she’d have to do the walk of shame back over to Dylan’s, because if anyone could fix this, it would be Dylan. Though she prayed to God her parents had good insurance because her funds were completely depleted and there was no way she could afford to have that fixed.
Not to mention she had hit a brick wall when it came to job hunting in this town.
But she’d only been at it one day. She refused to back down. Her parents depended on her, not to mention she refused to fail ever again, at anything. She owed it to her parents to keep her mother in therapy in a facility that could provide better care than at home. She also owed it to herself to quit pouting about what had happened and try to make something of this mess she called her life.
Because the truth of the matter was, she may be done with modeling. A hard fact to face, but it may just be the case. And probably a lot of people would consider her a pampered diva, but those people had no clue the hell she’d lived as a teen and how she’d molded herself into being something totally opposite of what she’d been.
Corinne turned toward the back door of Dylan’s that she’d just slipped out of. As she crept toward the steps, she jumped when she saw him standing at the top, looking down and wearing only his boxer-briefs. Mercy, that body never failed to amaze her, but right now she had bigger problems.
“Were you in the middle of running away or did you already do it and felt guilty?”
Okay, she deserved that and from the hurt in his eyes, her leaving had bothered him. Apparently he was more invested than she’d thought. This whole…whatever this was between them…was getting more and more complicated.
“I already left,” she admitted. “But I need your help.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. “You sneak out of my bed and then return, not to pick up where we left off, but because you need something?”
“That storm caused some major damage last night,” she went on, trying not to let the hurt and bitterness in his voice get to her. “That big oak in my front yard lost a limb and it collapsed the roof of my porch. I couldn’t tell if any part is in the house or not.”
“God, Cori, why didn’t you say that to begin with?” He turned and headed down the hall, then yelled back, “Give me one second to throw clothes on.”
She paced the living room and wondered exactly what they were facing with this mess. Fate sure had terrible timing. But when was a good time to have a tree land on your house?
Dylan barreled back down the curved steps and she followed him out the front door.
“I’m sorry I left,” she told him as they started down his porch steps. She laid a hand on his arm to stop him. “I didn’t know what to do, honestly, and I guess I made the wrong decision.”
His eyes traveled over her face. “Yeah, I guess you did.”
Without another word, he headed for her house and she didn’t try to defend herself or her cowardly actions. What was done was done. All she could do now was try to make it up to him. Make him feel like she wasn’t just using him.
But wasn’t he the one who’d said last night that he couldn’t give any more than sex? She’d given that and suddenly he was hurt?
And men thought women were confusing.
He turned the corner by the fence and cursed. Corinne knew better than to get in his way. For one thing, he was already pissed because of her leaving, and then he’d woken up to this mess, thanks to her dragging him into it.
While he assessed the outside, Corinne went around the side of the house where there was no damage and headed inside through her back door.
Thankfully there was no other damage to the back of the house, but when she made it to the living room, she could see the tree had indeed done a number on a portion of the entryway and front window.
Assessing the damage only made her heart hurt, and before she knew it, she was trying to retrieve the pictures off the wall behind the debris—but she couldn’t get to them and the glass had been shattered anyway.
An old school picture stared back at her. An innocent girl with a sweet smile. Corinne felt sorry for the teenager in that picture. If only she’d known what a nightmare waited for her up ahead.
“It’s okay, Cori.”
She turned, saw Dylan standing in the doorway with his brows drawn.
“Okay?” she asked. “How is a tree in my parents’ living room okay?”
They both knew he wasn’t just talking about the tree. She had no doubt he’d seen her trying to get the picture off the wall, and as perceptive as he was, she knew he was aware of her thoughts.
“You know I’ve always believed everything happens for a reason,” he told her, moving on into what was once the neatly organized living room. “This will be fixed. Just thank God you weren’t home and sitting on that sofa last night.”
Corinne nodded, knowing he was right. “I’m just so tired of every single thing happening to me, to my family. When will the good come, Dylan? Because I’ve been crapped on since I was sixteen and forced to leave. Yes, I have a great career, but what has that gotten me? And all those years weren’t so hot at times either.”
Like when her nightmare tracked her down when she’d been doing a shoot in New York. That was dodged easily enough by security on set and she’d hightailed it out of that city so fast her associates had thought the devil himself was chasing her.
And they weren’t too far off the mark.
“You’re a fighter,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll bounce back and you’ll be stronger.”
She rested her hands on her hips and glared at him. “So now I’m a fighter? You still believe I knew about the drugs in my home and you’re calling me a fighter?”
He glanced up at the ceiling and sighed before looking back to her. “I don’t believe you did drugs, Cori.”
“That’s not what I said. I said you believe I knew about them.”
His eyes darted to the mess behind her and he shook his head. “Now isn’t the time to discuss what I do or don’t think. I need to call some friends to come and help get this cleaned up so we can assess the damage better.”
“And you thought I was a coward this morning when I snuck out?” she asked, knowing her blood pressure was rising by the second. “I think spending the night was a mistake. One I certainly won’t make again. I can’t believe I even slept with you twice, knowing what you think of me.”
He crossed the room, grabbed hold of both of her arms and forced her to look at him. “You have no idea what I think of you. If you had any clue, you’d quit poking at me to get inside my head. Do you want my help here or not?”
Honestly, no. She didn’t want his help, but this was her parents’ house and he was the only person she knew who could fix it.
“I’m going to grab some clothes from my room and take a shower,” she told him, stepping back so he’d release her arms. “Then I’m going to see my parents. Whatever you have to do, do it. I’ll also call the insurance and see what the deductible is.”
She moved around him, careful not to brush against any part of him. The man was positively infuriating and she was extremely pathetic to have slept with him, not once, but twice—all the while knowing that he believed at least a portion of the lies the media had spread over and over.
Had her self-esteem really sunk that low, or was she just so desperate to cling to that one bright spot from her old life that she was vying for any attention Dylan was willing to give?
She knew one thing for certain. Once she left this town, she could never look back. Because if she looked back and saw Dylan again, she’d have to just keep ripping off that Band-Aid over and over, and her wound would never heal.
Chapter Ten
Corinne pulled into the lot of the only doctor in town and sighed. This was literally the last office she could apply at. She’d tried the local college in the Office of Admissions, she’d spoken with the CEO of the hospital, whom she’d actually gone to school with, and she’d even gone to the adorable little boutique that offered one-of-a-kind merchandise in the hopes of finding a job.
Either no one had anything or they were all still skeptical. Good grief, if she were in LA, Miami or New York she would’ve already been welcomed in somewhere. For one thing, big cities loved to gloat over the fact they had the “it” gossip celebrity in their midst, and another, so much happened in bigger cities her ordeal would’ve already been brushed aside for some other celebrity’s woes.
Not that Corinne wished any of the hell she’d endured on anyone else, but she certainly wished her hometown would at least be a little more open minded. It wasn’t like she was getting ready to whip out her mirror and do a line of coke, for pity’s sake.
What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Apparently that rule was overshadowed by people’s nosy tendencies and the media’s love of stretching the truth into their warped version of a good story.
Corinne grabbed a copy of her resume, which she’d done by herself because if she’d asked Dylan for help he probably would’ve laughed in her face.
Was a part-time job too much to ask for? Just because she had made a good amount of money over the years didn’t mean that it lasted forever or that it had made its way through all her legal woes.
But her parents needed her, they needed to know she could provide the care her mother needed to get through this difficult time and she refused to let them down. They didn’t need to know what was going on with her finances, but they did need to know they were protected and secure in the facility they were in. Surely it wouldn’t be too much longer before her mother could come home. But even when she came home, she’d have to have some type of healthcare nurse for her therapy. The expenses wouldn�
��t end just because she came home.
Corinne hit the remote lock on her car and went into the small brick office building with her shoulders back, her chin up and smile on her face.
“Good morning, how can I—”
The receptionist froze in midsentence once she got a look at Corinne’s face.
Corinne refused to let that shock make her turn and leave. She had an obligation to her parents, no matter the hits her pride took.
“My name is Corinne St. Claire and I was wanting to drop off my resume.” She handed the twenty-something brunette her file. “I’m looking for office work—part time would be fine if you all have any openings.”
The girl, who Corinne believed had been a few years behind her in school, merely looked from the folder to Corinne. “Are you serious? Weren’t you a supermodel?”
Same conversation, different place.
“Yes, I was a model and now I’m back home to care for my parents. I’m looking for something part time.”
The girl put the resume down on the pristine desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “We aren’t hiring right now, but even if we were, we have other qualified applicants we would look at first.”
Even though she had expected no less, the rejection still hurt.
“I understand,” Corinne said, refusing to let her smile falter. “I’ll just leave that with you in case something opens up. Thank you for your time.”
“If you’d like to take this, you can.” The lady held the file back out to Corinne. “We don’t hire anyone with an arrest on their record either.”
Corinne swallowed, thankful the waiting room wasn’t busy yet this morning. She reached for the resume, knowing if she left it she’d just be fighting a losing battle. “I understand. Have a good day.”
As much as she wanted to cry, she was just too angry as she settled back into her car. She drove home cursing the circumstances, cursing herself, cursing fate for landing her here…she even cursed the car that pulled out in front of her at a red light. Sometimes letting it all out, even if there was no one to hear, made a huge difference.
Secrets from Her Past: Scandalous, Book 2 Page 8
