“Slimeballs ogle me,” I correct her, but she continues regardless.
“You’re amazing though, Lana. You’re caring, funny, loyal and intelligent. You’re so happy in your own little world without men. You don’t need a guy to make you happy. Yet Dayton catches your attention.”
“It’s destiny,” Macy states and I roll my eyes.
“You girls have watched too much sloppy vampire romance.” I smirk before whipping the remote from Corrine and hitting the play button. They exchange more knowing glances and I make a point of ignoring them. In my head though I am reeling, totally flattered by their words and suddenly twice as flattered that Dayton seems to have chosen me to flirt with and get to know better.
The next day I have college until lunch and after a quick pasta salad for lunch, Dad and I set off for the test centre to get the final verdict on Phil and whether I can manage to tease another year of motoring out of him. I sit waiting on the hard plastic chairs flipping through car magazines and letting my thoughts wander. As soon as I qualify and get into full time work in a legal firm the first thing I want to treat myself to is a new car. Not that I want to replace Phil, but sure enough the fat, bolding mechanic sticks his head into the waiting room and confirms my suspicions.
“Sorry, love. The floor is shot, the diagnostics are a complete mess, the handbrake needs replacing and the ball joint on the driver’s side is knackered.” I sigh and nod my understanding.
The drive home is quiet. Dad knows it’s going to hurt to let Phil go.
“Just a thought, dew drop, but why don’t you consider auctioning the car off. If you can’t stand the idea of putting it in a scrap yard, I mean?”
I flick a glance at my dad and furrow my brow.
“Who would buy it though, Dad? He’s had it, you heard the guy at the garage.”
“Well, people buy old cars like this to fix up. It is pretty much a classic car, you don’t see many of these up for sale nowadays.”
“What, you mean like as a fixer-upper?” The idea definitely appeals and it would ease my guilt. “That’s a great idea, Dad. I’ll list it on an eBay auction.”
“I’m sure it will sell, Lana.”
I get home and take a few pictures and register the auction, hoping he goes to the right owner who will love him as much as I do. After a light dinner I take my time picking out which sportswear to run in today; excited anticipation has been building all day about meeting Dayton tonight. I opt for a bra type top with a loose vest top over the top and tight short shorts. I go commando to avoid a VPL and fill my ribble with ice chips and water.
It’s a bright day so I slip on my sunglasses and start the short walk to the park. When I arrive I spot Dayton straight away. He looks stunning in a white vest top which shows off his sculpted upper body and great tan. He’s wearing loose black shorts with his ribble hung around his narrow waist and his legs would put a football player to shame. Oh god, his winning white smile also stops my heart and I give him a little wave.
“Afternoon, sugar. You look good enough to eat,” he greets me before hesitantly planting a swift kiss on my cheek.
“Right back at you. How’s your day been?”
“Busy, work was hell in this heat and I’ve just finished mastering a track I’ve submitted to a record label.”
He follows my lead as I start stretching and warming up. “Oh, have you got any of your work signed to labels?”
“Some of it. I used to pay to produce in a studio but I started building my own studio at home. The income from Lexis gets sunk straight back into music and Barros pays well.”
“I’ll have to come see you play sometime.”
“Why not this weekend? I’m sure Ross and Macy will be dropping by, Luke and the others will be there, too. It would be great to see you there.” He seems genuinely eager and I smile.
“Maybe. We’ll see,” I tease, knowing I’m as eager as he is.
“What have you been up to today?” He changes the subject and I look out over the field where people are walking their dogs, running and kids are playing ball games.
“I had classes this morning and this afternoon I had to take the car in for testing. It failed miserably. I’ve put him on eBay hoping someone will buy him to fix him up.”
“Him?”
“Phil. My Ford Fiesta.”
“Phil the Fiesta?” I see the corners of his lips twitching up, it’s infectious.
“Yeah, he’s my baby. I’m gutted to see him go. He’s a classic.”
“Okay. I hope the auction goes well.” He grins.
We start off at a gentle jog next to some benches where an old couple sits enjoying the warm evening. I absently wonder if Dayton will be able to hack this run. 5k isn’t a short run, not for a beginner anyway. I’ve run up to 15k for charity runs in the past so I know this isn’t going to over work me, but I will need a day to recover.
The first half kilometre passes in a comfortable silence and I find my stride, setting a pace that I know I’m comfortable with and I hope he is, too.
“So, how long have you got left at college, Alannah?” He doesn’t sound at all out of breath and I think he might manage better than I anticipated.
“Just a few weeks; my coursework goes in for grading in the middle of June so I’m really just doing the last few assignments and tying up loose ends.”
“What made you go into the legal side of admin? My mum works in admin, but she works on the medical side in our GP surgery.”
“Well, after I qualified in admin I went on to do my secretarial qualification. I don’t want to be a secretary just anywhere though. Law will keep me on my toes. I won’t have time to get bored.”
I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge and I seem to thrive under pressure. My time keeping is excellent, too. The role of a legal secretary just seemed the ideal choice. Medical just wasn’t my thing.
“It must be a very demanding job, keeping a solicitor organised. Do you have to attend court?”
We round the corner of the makeshift football pitch the kids have set up using their jackets and sports bags as goal posts and the ball comes flying over. With barely a break in his stride Dayton stops the stray ball on the inside of his foot then knocks it back to the group of lads.
“Cheers, dude,” a young blond-haired boy of about twelve years old shouts, giving Dayton the thumbs up before crossing the ball back into play.
“Yeah, sometimes I’ll have to attend court. I need to be wherever my employers need administrative help.”
“I can just imagine you now, sharp suit, hair pinned up looking all sexy secretary.” He grins and I flick him a cheeky smile.
“Oh, can you now?”
“Hell yeah. I’d love to see you at work.”
I’m incredibly flattered by his words, and yet they lack that smarmy leer.
“Right back at you, Dayton. Although, I can’t decide which would be sexier: heavy duty work outdoors or behind the decks in a club.”
He laughs and shakes his head a little. “Well, I can honestly say working on the roof is much more peaceful. I don’t have half as many problems Monday to Friday.”
“Problems?”
“Yeah.., well, no. I shouldn’t call them problems. Sometimes, at Lexis, it all gets a bit too much. Not being able to get to the bar because everyone wants their two minutes with you or the constant introductions. I get fed up of posing for the selfies with people I don’t know.” He seems a little hesitant to elaborate further.
“But I thought that was what you DJs loved, the attention and fame?”
He seems to consider this before replying. “It is, but it isn’t. It’s hard to explain. I’d like faceless notoriety. Before I was even old enough to legally enter a nightclub I loved music. Not all music but club music. EDM, which stands for electronic dance music. Don’t you find certain songs can provoke memories? Or that one song can change the whole mood and atmosphere?”
I nod, being able to recall many songs that sp
ark memories. Some memories are good, some bad, but memories just the same. I often listen to music that suits my mood at the time, too. “Yeah, sure.”
“For years I’ve wanted to provide and produce the songs that do that for other people. I wanted to be the one bringing the atmosphere, adding to the playlist of memories for people. That was what made me learn to mix and produce, not money or fame.”
I suppose that makes sense. I have admired many songwriters because I imagine writing a song isn’t much different to writing a book. The amount of emotion put into their work can really touch people. It would take creativity I lack.
“I imagine the admiration must be flattering though?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve played at a lot of clubs, met some huge DJs who have been top of the game for many years now, keeping the clubs rocking for decades. I’ve met some big egos, too, usually from the people who don’t deserve to have one. Funnily enough the highest paid DJs in the UK are probably the most grounded. I’ve played some shit holes, too, where my name was the biggest on the flyer and yet the organiser and DJs were total swell heads.”
“Does the attention put you off the work?”
“It can be a drawback, but I can’t imagine anything being enough to drag me away from the music scene. I just love that rush you get when you have hundreds of people dancing and the whole club bouncing. It’s addictive. There is no better feeling than dropping in one of your own tracks and the crowd going crazy for it. It’s a bigger buzz than any drug.”
I can only imagine. I get a mental image of him in a DJ box, headphones on, looking every inch the god of the club. Personally, I cannot imagine anything more intimidating than playing for a huge crowd. Just the thought terrifies me.
“What’s the biggest nightclub you’ve played in then?”
We round the back of the park and start making our way towards the benches again, the last 2.5 kilometres behind us. I’m probably cruel making him talk whilst we run because I know it drains you. He seems to have broken a good sweat now but I don’t mention it.
“A club I played at in London, The Cavern. It was a great night, a few of the regulars from Lexis joined me down there and we stayed in a cheap bed and breakfast. Good times.”
He smiles at the memories but doesn’t elaborate. I suspect that’s because he is tiring somewhat now. We fall into another comfortable silence for the next kilometre. On our final lap of the park I flick him a glance and see he has a sexy sheen of light perspiration across his stubbled top lip but he seems to be coping fine. I get the urge to up the speed and really break free.
“What do you say we race this last lap?” I flick my eyebrows behind my sunglasses and I seem to have broken into his thoughts.
“A race? But you’re a girl,” he states the obvious.
“Your point being..?”
“I’m bound to win, it’s hardly a fair race.”
“Oh, really? Shall we set a wager?”
He seems to mull this over before nodding. “Place your bet. If I win you owe me.”
“Owe you what?” I giggle.
“I’ll tell you when I win.” He grins before setting off in front of me, quickly pulling away across the path.
“That’s great sportsmanship,” I call after him with laughter in my voice before I pick up the speed, quickly catching up with him and sprinting alongside him.
“Last one to the benches in indebted to the winner,” I say before kicking up the speed but he matches me stride for stride, easily keeping up and taking a lead.
Not a huge lead though and we soon round the corner of the football field. I know I’m holding back a huge burst of energy for the final straight but I’m aware I can’t let him get too much of a lead on me.
Damn, he’s fast. He doesn’t seem to be slowing either, if anything he continues to slowly increase the speed. There is an advantage to being a few feet behind him though. He has a magnificent ass and watching him from this angle is more than rewarding for not winning the race. The stubborn wench inside me won’t let him win this race though and when we get to the last hundred meters I release a reserve of energy to double my speed.
Dayton doesn’t see me coming from behind and I bolt past, sprinting for all I’m worth. As I fly past him I hear him curse under his breath and I suck my lip, trying not to laugh.
“Hell no, I’m taking this race, little lady,” he says and I run for all I’m worth just meters from the finish line of the now empty benches.
I bolt for the finish and feel a shot of adrenaline knowing he is nearing on me and chasing me. I’m trying hard not to laugh and I don’t look behind me but I feel him hot on my heels, his sexy laugh right behind me.
Just a few meters from the benches I feel him grasp my tiny waist and pull me back to him. I burst into a loud laugh, gripping his arms as he spins me in a circle, my feet leaving the ground and the park spinning before my eyes.
“That’s cheating!” I pant and he plants me on my feet but I’m dizzy and giddy and I wrap my arms around his neck, needing his stability but he’s not steady on his feet either. We both stumble to the ground but not before he pulls me back and hits the ground first, cushioning my fall. I land on top of him with a thud that seems to knock the wind out of him a little and we are both hot, sweaty, and panting.
The laughter subsides when I realise I’m literally laid on top of him and the smile seems to fade from his face as he pulls his sunglasses off and tosses them to the side, his arm wrapping around my back and holding me firmly against him.
My heart seems to stutter when I see his watery blue eyes. They’re the colour of the skies I remember cloud watching in when I was a child, they’re a milky blue. He slowly removes my sunglasses, his eyes seeking mine. My heart is racing and his hand on the bottom of my back is sending electrical currents up and down my spine. He drops my sunglasses next to his and his finger traces down my cheek, from the corner of my eye, down to the corner of my mouth then stops. I turn my mouth towards his thumb, my eyes never leaving his as I gently place a light kiss to the pad of his thumb. He seems to hold his breath, his eyes look hooded and pleading and I’m mentally screaming at him to kiss me. He looks down at my mouth before quickly rolling me onto my back and covering me.
I smile up at him through my lashes, loving the feel of his taunt and solid shoulders beneath my palms. He feels amazing, firm, pressed hard against the length of me. I run my fingertips over his shoulder, slowly working up to the nape of his neck and into the back of his damp hair. We’re both panting but now it’s nothing to do with exertion, this is all anticipation.
His eyes seem to ask permission and I blink him his answer, slowly parting my lips and begging for him to come to me. I gently pull his face towards mine, closing my eyes and my heart stills, waiting for the impending touch of his lips.
They’re soft, warm and incredibly gentle. His mouth softly moves against mine, the tip of his tongue softly caresses mine, asking for permission to enter and I open my mouth wider, giving him better access to explore. He tastes amazing and he sends my senses into overload. The feel of him, warm and solid, the scent of him, freshness mixed with the smell of a man fresh from a workout.
I work my fingers into his hair, holding him close, never wanting to let him go but eventually he breaks off the kiss and my eyes slowly open and he swims into focus. His eyes are hooded and I see desire dancing. I know I must look just as lustful because I don’t think I’ve ever felt this turned on in my life and all he’s done is kiss me.
“I’ve wanted to do that right from that very first time I saw you in Luke’s kitchen,” he whispers with a small smile spreading over his beautiful mouth.
“I thought you were going to when we were sat on those swings.”
He chuckles and the sound reverberates in his chest into me, making me grin.
“Trust me, I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.”
“Oh, you trust me, I wanted you to be very inappropriate.” I laugh and he lowers his
forehead into the crook of my neck, laughing. When he lifts his head, our eyes lock and all humour seems to subside again. None of us seems to know what to say or do, but I know what I want. “Kiss me again, Dayton.”
He doesn’t hesitate and this time the kiss isn’t so soft and gentle, there’s an urgency and fervour that wasn’t there before. It takes my breath away as we get lost in each other. Involuntarily I lift my hips, pressing my wanting sex into him; it earns me a deep growl and the kiss deepens further. I gently nibble on his lip, my fingers raking through his hair as he presses his body firmly against mine, pinning me to the floor as his hands hold my head firmly in place while he devours my mouth.
“Get in there, youth.”
We hear a young lad call from a few feet away and we both smile against each other’s mouth. I giggle, feeling embarrassment wash over me. I know I look wanton and I turn my chin to my shoulder. Dayton looks up and grins at the lads from the football field who are making their way off the park, whistling and cheering to him.
“Kids!” He smirks. “I think I need a cold shower.”
He gently eases himself up off of me before offering his hand, which I gratefully take. He pulls me against him and places a chaste kiss against my mouth before taking my hand and guiding me to the benches.
We sit down, both of us sipping from our bottles in silence but it’s not at all uncomfortable. When we have both quenched our thirsts he turns to face me, taking my hand and pulling it into his lap.
“So, I think you owe me.” He smirks and I roll my eyes.
“You hardly beat me, you cheated. You owe me.”
“How about we call a draw until next time? Then I’ll beat you fair and square.”
“Okay, when is the next race?” I grin, feeling slightly put out that I’m not indebted to him, I was sure he had a great forfeit in mind for me.
“Friday, same time, same place?”
I nod my agreement. “Fine by me.”
He pulls me to my feet with him and we head for the park exit. I’m not ready to say goodbye yet so I’m pleased when he asks if I want a lift home. He leads me towards a Mitsubishi Evolution 7 in diamond white. It’s a classic Evo and it is as sexy as its owner.
The Final Note (DJ Series Book 1) Page 3
