by Winters, KB
****
“Can I ask you something?” Brad asked me. He was on his third beer and I was still sipping on my first cocktail. We had been making small talk for nearly an hour while Dixie and Steph got nasty on the dance floor.
“Sure,” I answered. To his credit, Brad seemed to accept the situation and my off-limits status fairly quickly. He hadn’t tried to force some relationship out of thin air and I had decided he wasn’t a bad guy, but stuck to my original assessment that he wasn’t my type.
“Is it me, or is it you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Ya know, like that He’s Just Not That Into You. Is it you’re not into me? Or, I’m not into you?”
I laughed. He was obviously past his personal alcohol limit, but I decided to humor him. “It’s me, Brad. Don’t worry. I just got out of this weird thing, and I kinda need some down time to figure out what the hell I’m doing.”
“Ahh.” He took another pull off his beer, seemingly relieved at my answer. “Ya wanna talk about it? My ex always said I was a good listener. Listener.”
I hesitated for a moment, unsure that I wanted to unpack my personal drama to a virtual stranger. But, then again, he likely wouldn’t remember the conversation anyway.
“I met a guy here—at this bar, actually. He’s some rich dude from New York. Anyway, we hit it off. Or, at least I thought we did. We had some…fun,” I said, not wanting to reveal too much. He might be a stranger, but I still didn’t want him to think I was a slut. “But then when it was all over, he told me he wasn’t interested in anything like a relationship. I just don’t get what is with guys and the mixed signals.”
“What did you want to happen?” he asked.
“I don’t know. He was really attractive and we had this…this connection. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever had before. You know?”
Brad nodded, but I wasn’t sure he understood. But then again, I didn’t even understand it, so how could I possibly convey it to another person?
“Anyways, one minute he was buying me flowers and even diamond jewelry, and then the next morning, he’s kicking me out of his room and telling me it was a fling. What the hell is that?”
“Maybe he got scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked. Dylan seemed to be one hundred percent in control, all the time, over everything. I had to assume that meant his emotions as well.
“Well, a lot of guys won’t talk about their feelings, you know. So, maybe he was putting up a wall, to not have to talk about it.”
“But what was there to talk about? We were just having fun. I wasn’t expecting a proposal or anything. But the guy wouldn’t even give me his phone number.”
Repeating the whole sad tale just made me feel more pathetic. I was about to try and change the subject when Brad opened his mouth to continue.
“I don’t know what he was afraid of, could be anything. I once told a girl my roommate didn’t approve of house guests because I was afraid of what she would think of my apartment. I didn’t have much money at the time and was embarrassed of it, so I lied. Maybe it was something stupid like that.”
Hmm. An insightful drunk.
I highly doubted Dylan was lying to cover up a messy apartment. But, maybe this Brad character had a point. Maybe there was something Dylan was trying to cover up. There were no less effective walls that I could think of than telling a girl she was just a meaningless fling.
Not that there was anything I could do about it, even if he was right. Dylan was gone. I wasn’t about to go scouring New York for every hottie named Dylan in a power suit. And even if I could get to the bottom of it, would I want to? I certainly didn’t want to be with someone who lied and couldn’t communicate through problems in a relationship.
I refused to be one of those girls who let some guy drag her along, thinking she would eventually find a way to change him. If Dylan didn’t want to change, to push out of his boundaries, then that was just fine with me. I’d be more than fine to let him stay there.
Really, I’d probably just dodged a huge bullet.
Right?
I tried to relax and took another sip off my drink. “Thanks for listening. Your ex was right. Sorry about that, by the way.”
“Awww, it’s all right. She was kinda a bitch anyways,” Brad said, before ordering another drink.
I couldn’t help but wonder how “okay” he really was about the whole thing. Either way, it was clear that he was not going to be my rebound guy.
I checked my phone for the millionth time, and noticed that it was nearing ten o’clock. I still had all the packing to do if we were going to make our flight. I turned to find Dixie in the crowd but couldn’t see her.
“Oh, shit. What now?”
“What’s wrong?” Brad asked.
“I don’t see Steph and Dixie. Do you?”
I stood up and scanned the room. It was crowded, like it had been the first night we’d been there, and I tried to push aside the memories of—literally—bumping into Dylan for the first time. Knowing now how it would all play out, I still wouldn’t have wished away our chance encounter.
“There they are,” Brad said. I looked where he was pointing and saw Steph had Dixie pressed up against a wall. They were tangled up in a knot of limbs, lips, and thrusting hips. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was fucking her right there on the outskirts of the dance floor. My face flushed on her behalf and I had half a mind to go over and break it up, but Steph had seemed a decent guy, and they were still within my line of sight. Besides, Dixie would probably murder me in my sleep with one of her stilettos if I cock-blocked her…or whatever the female equivalent of that would be.
As I was returning to the bar, I spotted someone out of the corner of my eye. Was that Dylan? I popped up onto my tiptoes to get a better view, but the shadow was gone.
I shook my head and silently scolded myself for letting my imagination get away from me.
All I could do was hope that the phantom version of Dylan wouldn’t haunt me forever.
Chapter Five — Dylan
My plane was all set for takeoff. As soon as the pilot got clearance from the air traffic tower, we would start taxiing down the runway and that would be the end of it. The end of her. I’d turn and look out my window and watch the island turned into a little speck, and then diminish altogether, as if it were swallowed up by the sea. Less than eight hours after that—most of which I would spend in a medication-induced coma—I would be back in New York and my life would hit play again. More likely, fast forward.
I shifted in my seat. It didn’t feel right. I couldn’t get comfortable.
“Mr. Luck, is everything all right?” the incredibly hot stewardess asked as she passed by my chair. I’d purposely had my assistant hire only hot, leggy women to work on my flights. The woman speaking to me now certainly met my standards. But it meant nothing. I didn’t care. All I could think about was a curvy brunette named Ellie. God, I didn’t even know her last name.
What was wrong with me?
“I’m fine. Can I get a bottle of Pellegrino?”
She nodded, smiled sweetly, and disappeared to get my drink. Really, I’d invented the request to get her away from me before she was there to witness me have a full-on panic attack. My palms were coated with sweat, my heart was beating fast, and it felt too warm under my suit jacket.
Nothing felt right. It seemed like I was minutes away from making the worst decision of my life. I’d felt this way before. Or at least, something very close to it, but that was always in the middle of making business deals. Whenever I wasn’t certain of a merger or acquisition, I would have a moment of sheer panic. I always managed to keep it under control. I was known for my nerves of steel. That was all part of the game, wasn’t it? Keeping the mask on so tight that no one could see you sweat.
But this was different. Ellie was different.
The stakes seemed much higher than some business dealing in a board room.
The stewardess cam
e back and leaned over me to pour the bottle of sparkling liquid into a glass for me.
“I forgot something,” I said, surprising even myself.
“What is it?” She asked.
“Oh, not here. Back at the hotel. I’m afraid I need to delay the flight.”
She looked alarmed. “Sir, that’s not possible. We have to stay on schedule. There are large penalties if we don’t.”
“I don’t care! I need to get off this fucking plane! Do whatever you have to do to make that happen.”
She waited a beat and I almost thought she was going to argue the point, but she gave a short nod and shuffled down the aisle as fast as her pencil skirt and heels would allow.
I stood and straightened my jacket before downing the glass of sparkling water.
****
Two hours later, I was back at the hotel. I’d been delayed by signing some paperwork at the airport. The pilot and the crew seemed a little bent out of shape at the last-minute change of plans, but they were all careful not to directly state any grievances. Apparently, they remembered they worked for me. And they were very well paid. Highest in the business, so zipped lips was probably for the best.
As soon as I entered the breezy hotel, I went straight to Ellie and Dixie’s room and knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
“Fuck,” I murmured under my breath. Where are they?
I traced my steps back to the entrance and went straight to the front desk. I’d learned that you could often get the most information from the grossly underpaid receptionists if you wanted to know anything about what was going on inside a hotel. All you had to do was throw around a little cash.
Twenty minutes and two hundred dollars later, I had my answers. Apparently, Dixie was hard to miss and Ellie was usually nearby. The woman I spoke with at the desk had seen both of them entering the hotel bar an hour before with two gentlemen. The idea of Ellie on some other mans arm got my blood boiling, but I pushed it aside, not wanting anger and jealousy to ruin my last chance with her. I didn’t waste any time and dove right into my plan. I slipped a note and another couple of bills to the hostess to carry out the next phase of the plan. She would deliver the note, and room key, to Ellie. I’d managed to reserve the same suite I’d vacated hours before and went there to wait for Ellie.
I’d never been much of a romantic. I’d never needed to be, but I figured Ellie was unlike any girl I’d ever known, so I decided to be unlike my arrogant, cocky self and lit some candles and put on some soft, sensual music in the background.
Everything was perfect.
Except that nearly an hour went by and still no sign of Ellie.
I was just about to give up, blow out the candles, and kill the music before I heard a soft beep followed by the door knob turning. I sprang up from my place at the foot of the bed and stepped out into the hallway, just in time to see Ellie walk into the light.
“You came,” I said, feeling more relieved than I’d even imagined.
“What are you doing here? I thought you left.” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Waiting for you.”
“Cut the romantic bullshit, Dylan, and just answer my question. What are you doing?”
I hadn’t expected the hostility, but, as it had before, it seemed to only turn me on more. I let my eyes wander over her voluptuous frame before answering. She was wearing an emerald green cocktail dress that fit her curves like it was tailor made and showed off her newly bronzed skin to perfection. I wanted her immediately. My mind filled with desire and scenarios just looking at her.
“Dylan, eyes up here. I didn’t come here so you could stare at me,” she snapped.
“Ellie, I know you’re upset about this morning. I couldn’t get you out of my head all day. I got on my plane to go home and I couldn’t leave without seeing you again. I couldn’t let things end the way we left them.”
“We didn’t leave them any particular way. Considering it was less than twenty-four hours ago, your memory seems a little foggy. You threw me out of your suite—this suite, actually—and told me that you didn’t want anything else to do with me. How could you think that just showing up and lighting some candles would make me forget all that?”
I dared to take a step closer to her. My arms were aching, wanting to grab her and hold on, but I knew she wouldn’t let me.
“I’m not very good at this, I guess.” It was a true statement. I’d never found myself in this position before.
Ellie didn’t seem to care. She continued to throw daggers from behind her clouded eyes.
“Normally, I know what I want when I’m with a woman. I know what, where, how, and for how long. Nothing is left up to chance. Everything is calculated and controlled. That’s how I run my life. That’s why I’m so good at business and finances. I don’t take risks. If I’d met you back in New York, I would have laid it all out for you before we ever made it to bed. I would have told you I wanted to have some fun, let off some steam, no strings attached, whatever.”
“You came all the way back here to tell me how you would have fucked me over if we were in a different time zone?”
“No, listen to me,” I said, finding it hard to not snap. I needed her to understand, to see that she was different. “I’m saying that you caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to feel the way I’m feeling. I know I hurt you by acting the way I did this morning, and for that, I am sorry. I’m not a bad guy, Ellie. You can trust me.”
“Dylan,” she sighed. “I appreciate you trying to clear the slate, but what’s the point? I’m leaving tomorrow morning. Early. You’re already supposed to be gone. What did you think would happen if you came here and asked me to forgive you?”
I stepped in closer, closing the gap between us. Our faces were inches apart as I looked down into her curious, blue eyes that were starting to regain some of their sparkle. “I was hoping you would stay the night. With me. Here.”
“I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I can’t.” She shuffled back a step. “Dixie and I have a really early flight. We weren’t even planning on sleeping tonight so that we could sleep on the flight home instead.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on sleeping much, either,” I said, grinning down at her.
She bit her lip and I had to rein in every fiber of my body to not devour her right there on the spot.
“I don’t know. I—I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“How about this, I’ll fly you and Dixie home to DC tomorrow on my private jet. You’ll still get home, but you won’t have to leave so early. Trust me—it will be way better accommodations than whatever these sweepstakes people are offering you.”
She stared at me, slightly puzzled, as if she still couldn’t trust me.
“Ellie, please. I need this. I need you.” I moved in close, taking her into my arms. She hesitated, resisting slightly at first, but then she gave in and melted against me.
“But what happens after that?” she asked, her face pressed into my chest.
“We’ll make something work. New York isn’t that far from your school.”
“So you’re throwing out the whole ‘I’m not a relationship person’ thing?” She looked up at me, as if she needed to see my eyes when I responded.
“I don’t want to lose you, Ellie. I’ve never felt this way. So whatever it takes to keep you with me is what I’m going to do. I have to know.”
Before she could protest and stall any longer, I leaned down and captured her lips with mine. The heat between us kicked up another notch as she returned the kiss, her fervency making me desperate and hungry. I scooped her up off the ground, and carried her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. I stood back and stared at her for a moment. She looked like an angel, glowing in the candlelight.
“Ellie, have I ever told you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”
She laughed, but I wasn’t joking. I was determined to spend the entire night showing her how much I meant every word
.
I started by sliding up the dress she was wearing, revealing and kissing every inch of her tanned legs. Her skin tasted faintly of sunscreen and sand. As my lips made a trail up her thigh, I could smell her excitement and knew she was already getting wet for me. I wanted to push my way past her panties and plunge into her, but I made myself wait. I wanted more than just a quick fuck.
“Dylan,” she whispered and the sound set my skin on fire.
Her dress was up around her hips and I pulled back to look at the white, lace panties she was wearing. “Holy shit, Ellie. These are hot,” I said, tracing my finger over the edges of the lace. I’d never cared much for white lingerie before. It always seemed to scream bride or wedding, but this—on her—was perfection.
She laughed again but it died quickly, shifting to a sharp gasp, as I let one finger slide under the silky lace and stroke her wet pussy lips. She was drenched and trembling already and I knew it wouldn’t take much to bring her to the edge. My fingers slowly teased her, sliding between her folds and playing with her clit, but never giving her a rhythm or pattern to grab onto.
“Dylan, please,” she whispered, arching up to me and trying to grind her hips against my touch.
I pulled my hand away and kissed her deeply instead. My tongue parted her lips and explored her pouty mouth.
My shower fantasy rushed back to me and my cock twitched in anticipation. I needed her on her knees.
“Ellie, get up.” I commanded.
She obeyed quickly, without question.
“Take off the dress, and bra. Leave the panties.”
She stripped away the dress and I had to hold back a gasp at the sight of her in the matching bra. The lace was sheer and I could see the outline of her nipples pressing against the fabric as she reached behind her back to unhook the garment. Her nipples were hard and I wanted them in my mouth. I went to her and finished unlatching her bra, letting it drop to the floor. The color surrounding the tender buds was darker pink and looked almost bruised. She winced slightly as I ran my thumbs along the skin.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“A little. Is that okay? To say that, I mean?”
