“Jesus Christ. What the hell happened to your hand?” I reach for it to examine it more closely when he quickly pulls away from me.
“Don’t worry about it. The dress, Dylan. Why are you wearing that?”
Oh no fucking way is he going to react like this and not give me any answers. I grab my clutch off the table and make to turn away from him. “Fuck you. I wore this for you, you stupid asshole.” His hand grabs my elbow but I somehow manage to snatch it out of his grip. “Let go of me. How dare you come in here with your hand looking like you beat the shit out of somebody and give me a hard time about my outfit. You have no fucking right to act like that.” What the hell? This is not the reaction I was hoping to get out of him for wearing this. I push through the crowd of people and see the exit but feel his hands on my waist before I can get very far. Figures. Engage barbarian mode. I am turned sharply and pulled against his chest, his mouth pressing firmly to my temple.
“I have every fucking right to act like this,” he growls.
“No you don’t. What the fuck happened to your hand?” I push away from him and take a step back, sternly staring him down for an explanation.
He steps closer to me, eliminating the gap I just created. “Your ex is what happened to my hand. I told you that I’d make sure he never touched you again and I fucking did. Now explain to me why the fuck you’re wearing that? You knew I wouldn’t be here until later so don’t fucking say it was for me.”
I move quickly, there is no thought behind it just pure shock and slap him hard across his face. The sound of the crack echoes through the bar but no one seems to pay us any mind, except for Juls and Ian. Apparently, lovers quarrels are common in establishments like this.
“Are you actually trying to insinuate that I’m wearing this for somebody else? Fuck you. You drive me fucking crazy.” I bring my hand back again but Reese reaches out and stops it, bringing it down to my side and pulling me against him. His chest is heaving rapidly and when I press my lower body against his, I feel his need for me digging into my hip. Fuck, he’s turned on by this?
“You drive me fucking crazy. Now, say your goodbyes so I can take you home and fuck some sense into you.” I catch my breath at his words but know right then, even before he said it that I want it just as much as he does. He knows how and when to push my buttons and he does it better than anyone.
“Juls, I’m leaving. Love you,” I yell but keep my eyes on Reese.
“Holy hell. That was crazy hot. Bye, sweets,” she yells back and before I can object, I am being dragged out of the bar by a very hot and bothered CPA. But who am I kidding here? Like I’d ever object.
Fourteen
“I hope you realize just how pissed off I am at you right now,” I say as I sit in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, watching him weave easily in and out of traffic. We’ve been driving in silence for eight long-ass minutes and my annoyance level is through the roof.
He turns the radio down and clears his throat before glancing over at me. “Why, because I don’t want other men looking at you? Tough shit. That dress should be illegal.” His hand grips the center consul and I stare at his red cut up knuckles.
Crossing my legs and letting my dress ride up on purpose, I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. “What happened? You didn’t kill him, did you? I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to visit you in prison.” Although, a conjugal visit with Reese might be worth Justin’s demise. Mmmm, he could rock the hell out of some jail attire.
Stopping at a red light, he flexes his injured hand before he reaches over and slips his finger under my garter, snapping it against my skin and making me yelp. “No, I didn’t kill him but he probably wishes he was dead right now. He won’t bother you again.” I bat his hand away to keep him from pulling at it as the red light turns to green. “Did you have fun tonight?”
Forcing out a laugh, I turn to him and see a hint of teasing in his set profile, his lip twitching slightly. “Oh yeah, I was having a blast until this crazy man showed up and freaked out over my wardrobe selection. Which, by the way, was for your eyes only. You owe me multiple orgasms for that little tirade.”
He lets out a laugh as he pulls into the parking garage of his building. “Oh, I think I’m the one who is in need of multiple orgasms. It is my birthday after all.” Wait, what?
“It’s your birthday? Today?” He nods with a smile and parks the car, stepping out as I stay frozen in my seat. Why didn’t he tell me? My door is opened for me and his hand grabs mine, pulling me quickly out of the vehicle. “Is it really?” The man could be lying just to get his multiple orgasms.
He reaches in his back pocket, pulls out his wallet and hands it to me. I flip it open and stare at his license, which of course contains a picture of him looking annoyingly good. Who the hell takes a good driver’s license photo? Focusing on his birthday, I confirm what he has just revealed to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, handing him back his wallet as we walk into his building. His hand rests on my lower back as he walks me towards the elevators, nodding politely at the people we pass.
“I just did,” he replies, pulling me into the elevators and pressing the tenth floor button. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against his as we ride up to his floor. His scent fills my lungs and I swoon.
“But you should have told me sooner. I would have made you a cake. It’s what I do you know.”
His hands grip my waist as he presses quick kisses into my hair. “Well you can make me a cake now.” The doors open and he quickly pulls me with him down the hallway and into his condo. Jeez is he in a rush?
Flipping on the lights, I follow behind him as he sets his keys down on the counter and walks into the kitchen. I slip out of my heels, set my purse down, and begin rummaging through his cabinets, praying for ingredients.
“Do you have any flour?” I ask as he closes the fridge and hops up onto the counter. Unscrewing the cap, he takes a sip of his water and looks to be in deep thought, his eyes staring at the cabinets. “You’re in my spot,” I say as I watch him with amusement.
“Umm, no. I don’t think I have any flour. And yes, I am in your spot. But it’s my birthday so I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He smirks at me and I give it right back to him, turning and glancing up on a high shelf.
“Can you reach me the Bisquick please?” I ask as I open the fridge and pull out the eggs. He hands it to me with a kiss and hops back up.
“Are you making me birthday pancakes?”
I pull out a bowl and grab a fork. “Nope, I’m making you my four ingredient banana cake that I used to whip up in college. Juls and I roomed together and I would create desserts out of whatever crap we had lying around. Bisquick was always on hand because she’s a breakfast junkie.” I grab the sugar bowl and set the oven temperature. “You’ve given me little choice here. I’d be set if I wanted to make you a cake made out of ramen noodles and chunky soup.” He watches me intently as I mash up the banana and begin mixing the ingredients together in the bowl, occasionally glancing up and seeing him studying me. He always seems so fascinated by whatever it is that I’m doing and I wonder if he looks at every girl like this. Ugh. The thought makes me whip the eggs viciously.
“So you’re thirty-two today,” I state, sucking the batter that has splashed up onto my knuckle off with a soft moan.
“I am.” My eyes go to his and he winks. “I’m six years older than you now. Does that bother you?”
His question baffles me so I decide to really give it some thought. Our age difference doesn’t bother me at all. If he was ten years older than me I wouldn’t care. Scrunching up my face and thinking hard, I see his grin widen as he waits for me, a soft breathy laugh escaping him. I shake my head. “Nah, but that’s mainly because you act half your age.” His eyebrow arches. “Besides, I have a thing for older men.” Tipping the bowl, I pour the cake batter into his one and only baking dish and shuffle it to even out the distribution.
H
e hops down and comes up behind me, his hands spreading across my stomach. “Do you? I had no idea,” he says as he pulls my hair over one shoulder and kisses down my neck. I close my eyes and grip the baking dish tightly. Lord this man knows how to wind me up in no time.
“Well, I have a thing for you.” He growls into my ear, his hands sliding up the front of my dress and molding to my breasts. My head falls back against his shoulder and I groan. “I need to put this in the oven.” He grumbles in protest but finally steps back, allowing me to place the dish into the oven and set the timer.
“Okay, birthday boy, you’ve got twelve minutes to play with me until it’s ready.” I turn to see his wicked grin and he wastes little time, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the living room. Stopping in front of the couch, he pulls me into his arms and runs his hands up my spine as his face drops to bring our lips together. He opens my mouth with his and snakes his tongue around mine, coaxing me to move with him and I obey. My hands fumble with his tie, loosening it and dropping it to the floor as his mouth assaults mine, teasing and tasting every inch of me. I feel his arm muscles flex around me and then the sound of a loud rip comes from behind me as the fabric of my dress is torn from my body.
“Did you just, I can’t believe you just did that.” I spin around quickly and step back and out of his arms, seeing the handful of material clutched between both fists before he drops it at his feet. Are you fucking serious? “Dick. Do you have any idea how much that dress cost me?” I step into him and deliver a sharp poke to his chest with my finger. Yeah. That’ll show him.
He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at me. “If you say more than five dollars, you got ripped off. That thing was the size of a handkerchief.” His arms wrap me up and he tosses me onto the couch like I’m some sort of rag doll. I yelp in protest as the cold leather hits my skin, but am only momentarily chilled before his body is pressing against mine, warming me instantly.
“You are ridiculous. What the hell am I supposed to wear now when I leave?” I grumble between kisses. His mouth met mine the moment he relaxed down on me. I moan as his tongue dips into my mouth, delivering long strokes against mine and filling me with his minty flavor. “Fuck, I’m so mad at you,” I grunt as he laughs against me, moving his lips down my neck and licking a trail to the top of my breasts. Stay mad, Dylan. Don’t give in. Don’t lose it. That was a $250 dress.
“I love it when you’re mad at me. You’re so fucking sexy I can barely contain myself here.” He molds his hands over my breasts and pulls my bra down, slipping a nipple into his mouth as I grab his head. “Mmmm, these are always on my mind. So fucking beautiful.” He licks and sucks me, drawing loud moans from my mouth. Brushing his nose against the mark next to my left nipple that is slightly faded, he sucks on the small patch of skin. My hands grip his hair and hold him against me. I hate that his marks are fading on me and am more than happy to let him bring them back out. Moving to my other breast, he freshens the mark there and then plants a soft kiss to it before he glances up at me. His smirk makes me grunt.
“You’re an asshole.” I groan as he moves lower, licking and nibbling at my stomach. Wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, I push him up and grip his dress shirt with both hands tightly before I rip it apart, tiny buttons flying out in every direction. My hands push it off his big shoulders and down his arms, pulling his T-shirt quickly over his head.
“Impatient much? We have all night, love,” he says as he works his belt, sitting back between my legs.
“You started it.” All night? My hands stretch out and rub his ripped chest, brushing down his stomach along the tight muscles. God, I love touching this man. My index finger plays in the patch of hair that runs below his belly button. “What do you want for your birthday?”
He reaches into his pants, pulls himself out and leans forward, rubbing himself along the length of my wet panties. I groan and dig my nails into his back. Wasn’t I mad about something? “You in my bed.” He says against my mouth. Our lips are close, our heavy breathing mixing together and I tremble against him, his words bringing out my fears. “Nothing has to change. This is still just sex. I just need to have you in there.” Seconds, minutes go by and he stills against me, waiting for my response. I don’t know what to do. I want to do this for him, for me, more than anything. Being in his bed, surrounded by his smell and imagining what it would be like to stay there with him was a thought that was constantly running through my mind. But could I do this? He said nothing had to change but could I keep it from changing for me? I think long and hard and make my decision. Yes, I could. Because this is worth it. He is worth it. I close my eyes tightly and nod, hearing a small sound escape him and I’m quickly lifted to my feet. We round the couch together when the oven alarms, causing me to dash in and pull the cake out.
“Jesus, you should only be allowed to wear that in my kitchen,” he says as I insert a knife quickly into the top and pull it out clean. Glancing down out my attire, I smile at him as I meet him in the dining room where he stands waiting for me. My hand is placed in his as he leads me down the hallway and opens the last door on the left. Stepping aside for me, I walk ahead of him and take in my surroundings.
His bedroom is big and spacious containing a large four poster bed with two nightstands on each side, a tall dresser and a chair in the corner next to a small bookshelf. I scurry over to it and glance at his reading material, all educational and way the hell out of my depth. “Wow, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” Pulling out a massive textbook with the words Corporate Accounting on the front, I sit in the chair and flip through it, feeling his eyes on me as he moves into the room. The sound of his clothing removal catches my attention and I glance up at him from under my lashes. He is now standing completely naked and staring at me, holding out his hand and arching his brow.
“I’m reading,” I mutter through a grin and am quickly yanked from my chair, book crashing to the floor in the process as he lifts me up and tosses me on the bed. The smell of him hits me like a truck and I whimper. Crap, this is going to wreck me. Wrapping his hand around the back of me, I am moved up the bed so that my head is resting on his pillow, his body settling between my legs. I watch intently as he slides my panties down and tosses them, leaving my garter on and tracing the clips with his fingers.
“So fucking sexy,” he says against my thigh, kissing the skin along my garter. “You’re so soft, love, and you always shake when I’m right here.” His lips brush against the skin of my inner thigh and I gasp, trembling on cue. “I love that I do that to you.”
I quickly remove my bra and reach out for him. “Come here. I need you.” I grip his shoulders and pull him up as he shifts above me, pushing straight into me in one quick motion.
“I’ve dreamed of this. You, in my bed. Fuck, Dylan.” His words ring through my ears as he strokes me with long slow movements. Pulling almost all the way out before he glides back in. My legs tighten around him and I pull his mouth to mine, needing his kiss, needing his breath on me and in me.
“Me too. Oh God.”
He groans loudly and I pull his lip into my mouth, dragging my teeth along his skin. My hands are brought over my head and held above me with one of his. His eyes burn into mine with such raw emotion that it rips through me, crippling me. I turn my head to break the contact.
“Look at me,” he grunts, his hips thrusting hard and fast, slamming against mine and pushing me up into the headboard. His grip around my wrist tightens and I arch off the bed, pushing my chest against his. “Dylan, I need to see you.” I turn back to him, giving him what he wants and letting myself feel it. Heat spreads across my skin, radiating from deep within me as his free hand holds the side of my face. “Don’t pull away from me,” he pleads, but even if he hadn’t said the words, his eyes are telling me the same thing. They show every emotion, every unspoken thought. I am completely lost in his green stare, completely lost in him. Everything about him holds on to me, keeping me right with him in this mom
ent and there isn’t a single part of me that wants to pull away, that will ever want to pull away. I can do this. I’m strong enough for this.
My body is quickly on the brink, undeniably responsive to his and I want him there with me. I pull my lip into my mouth and clench around him, seeing his eyes widen and halting his thrusts.
“Holy fuck.” His eyes clamp shut and I do it again, contracting my muscles and feeling him react with a jerk. “Jesus Christ. Love, if you keep doing that.” And I do. I do it again, this time holding it and his eyes open and lock onto mine.
I clench around him once more and he grunts loudly before he starts to move. I moan and bring my hips up to meet his charges, giving him deeper entry and pulling a low groan straight out of him.
“Come with me, love.” His mouth comes down and devours mine, pulling my tongue into his and sucking hard and deep. I come fast, my body shaking and pulsing, my screams swallowed by his mouth as he gives me his release. Warmth runs through me, clinging to me, to us. Our bodies fit perfectly together and I pray that he’ll never get tired of me, of this. Because I never will.
Our breathing steadies as he stays on top of me, pressing my body into his mattress. He’s heavy but not uncomfortable and I find the weight to be the perfect amount of pressure against my body. My fingers trail lightly along his back as his hot breath bursts across my neck. My touch deepens and I rub his hard muscles, working up to his neck and firmly digging in. I giggle at his tiny moans of pleasure. He loves it when I touch him and right now, that’s what I want to do. I wiggle underneath him and his gorgeous face turns up to gaze at me.
“Let me up. I want to give you a birthday massage.”
He quickly and with great enthusiasm pushes himself back onto his knees and allows me to move around him. Grabbing a few tissues off his nightstand, I’m wiped clean of his release and the trash is quickly discarded. As he settles back down on his stomach, I straddle his waist and admire the view. He has the sexiest back I’ve ever seen. Broad and built, but not overly muscular. I hate big bulky guys and Reese has the perfect muscle to leanness ratio. After giving one quick smack to his perfectly sculpted ass, I begin rubbing up and down his back, gauging his reaction to find the amount of pressure that he wants. A few soft moans indicate that I’m pressing him just how he likes and I move to his shoulders and start working him.
Sweet Addiction Page 17
