Sure, she didn’t exactly go out of her way to attract men. She’d never been a flashy dresser. He wouldn’t call it bad; it was simply Zoe. She wasn’t out to impress anyone. Her usual wardrobe was filled with coffee-stained white polo shirts. She barely wore makeup—actually he wasn’t sure she wore any. And he didn’t need to look beneath her clothes to know she was a plain cotton panties type of gal. In truth, it was one of the reasons their friendship worked. He could relax with her. Hell, he could fart in front of her and not spend an hour apologizing. She’d laugh, throw a pillow at him, and that was the end of it. He’d scratch his ass when he wanted and so would she. It was comfort all the way when they were together. But what if I could have all that and the girl? No sooner had the thought occurred than Dylan was striking it down. That was impossible. Something like that would make Zoe the perfect woman, which would mean he’d overlooked her for years. Impossible. He wasn’t that stupid or blind . . . was he?
He carefully moved a hand from around her and rubbed his throbbing temple. She was doing a real number on him. He was tired and confused. That was the reason he was thinking irrationally. He simply needed to have a talk with her—preferably when she was sober—and give her his opinion on this whole getting-rid-of-her-virginity business. She’d always been a rational woman, and he was sure he could get her to see reason.
Dylan blamed this whole mess on that troublemaker Dana. How dare she fill Zoe’s head with nonsense? He was certain she was behind this rush to find a man. For fuck’s sake, she’d even set her up with her boyfriend. He knew that Dana was a friend as well as an employee, but she damn sure wasn’t a good influence. The whole drunken dirty dancing tonight was just further proof of that. Dylan studied the pole that Zoe had been grinding on a short time ago. Where had that thing come from? It certainly hadn’t been here last week. Dana probably carried it around in her car for impromptu striptease opportunities.
Dropping his head onto the back of the sofa, he stifled a yawn. So very tired. As soon as Zoe woke up, they’d straighten this mess out. But for now, he was going to rest his eyes until he had the desire and the energy to move her from his lap and go home.
Six
Why does my bed sound like a train? Zoe wondered fuzzily as she shifted, attempting to get comfortable. Her body was stiff and she was burning up. Plus, what was rumbling beneath her ear? Reaching her hands out, she felt around experimentally. Hmmm, this was interesting. She appeared to be lying on something. What?
She was a flurry of scurrying elbows and knees as she attempted to open her eyes against the bright glare in the room. “Shit, stop before you kill me,” hissed a voice that she immediately recognized. No, that can’t be right. Why would he be here? Wait . . . Is there a hand on my ass?
That did it. Zoe’s eyes popped open and she was staring directly into Dylan’s face. Where did he come from? His sleepy eyes and facial scruff indicated that he’d probably been there for a while. And more importantly, why was he underneath her? Maybe I’m still asleep and this is a dream. That must be it. Well, heck, if that was the case, she was going to enjoy it. She’d had a lot of sex dreams about her best friend through the years, but this one was so vivid. Of course, even her dreams weren’t perfect. She actually had a headache and a bit of a dry mouth. But who cared? Dylan was in her bed. No, actually they were on the sofa. Gazing down at his beautiful face, she could hardly decide what she wanted to do first. She only knew she better hurry before she woke up alone as usual. Pucker up, BFF, I’m coming in for a kiss. “Oh, Dylan,” she whispered before she lowered her lips to his.
His body jerked against hers, but whatever he said was quickly muffled as her tongue entered his mouth. This is so hot, she thought as she allowed her hands and tongue to roam free. Surely the real thing couldn’t be much better than this. And she didn’t have to worry about feeling shy or awkward because this wasn’t really happening. The hand on her ass was squeezing now, and strangely enough, she felt his nails digging into the tender flesh there. The twinge of pain amplified the heady desire rushing through her body and she was almost certain that a dry-humping dream orgasm was right round the corner.
That is, until she went sailing through the air and ended up several feet away from the object of her lust. What the hell? Usually she just woke up. Now she had men tossing her on the floor in her dreams? Geez, what was next, restraining orders? Suddenly, Dylan was down on his haunches peering at her in concern. “Shit, Zoe, are you all right? I didn’t know it was real. I thought it was a dream.”
Rubbing her elbow where it had struck the hardwood floor, she flinched. “Seems like more of a nightmare now.”
“You were kissing me,” he said accusingly. “And your hands were . . . on everything. I was startled and it was a knee-jerk reaction.”
“Oh, calm down,” she chided. “It’ll all be over in a minute. This happens to me all the time. Although nothing quite this realistic.”
Looking exasperated, he asked, “Are you still drunk? It’s been hours. How much did you two put away last night?”
He was making absolutely no sense. As she tried to decipher his strange words, she glanced around and then did a double take. “Er . . . why is there a pole in my living room?” Then, as if watching a movie in slow motion, it all came back to her. Dana bringing over two bottles of wine and her portable stripper pole. Apparently she’d ordered it and the instructional DVD off one of those late-night shows. They’d cranked up the music and Zoe had let her inner stripper loose. That answered the question of why her thighs were so damn sore. But where did Dylan fit into all of this? “Why are you here?” she finally asked, giving up on figuring it out on her own.
Interestingly enough, he looked uncomfortable now. Well, even more so than the already strange occurrences called for. “I dropped by on my way home last night. When I got here, I could hear the music blaring all the way down the hall. I tried the doorbell several times, but no one answered. So I used my key to make sure everything was okay. Um . . . that’s when I found you two in here dancing and three sheets to the wind. You were on that thing,” he said, pointing to the pole. She thought she must be seeing things, because he actually appeared to be blushing. Please, God, tell me I had clothes on during that dance.
“O-kay,” she said carefully. “So how did I go from that to sleeping on top of you on the sofa?” Oh my God, I totally kissed and groped Dylan! She felt her own face flush as she realized what she’d done just moments earlier. No wonder he was having a hard time making eye contract. She’d probably totally freaked him out.
He took a moment to sit down, putting his back against the sofa in question. “I picked you up because you were wobbling all over the place. Then you fell asleep and I sat down with you in my arms. The next thing I knew, we were both awake and your . . . tongue was in my mouth. It er . . . startled me for a moment, which brings us to now.”
Zoe dropped her head into her hands as she mumbled, “You tossed me off you like a rag doll because I was attacking you. If this isn’t rock bottom, I don’t know what is.”
She felt him patting her shoulder, like any good friend would, which only made it that much more humiliating. “Zoe, it’s really no big deal. You’re used to waking up alone, so of course you were confused. And I was startled because you’re not usually doing . . . all those things to me. It was a moment of temporary insanity on both our parts because I’d certainly never toss you off the sofa under normal circumstances.”
Zoe did her best to put on a brave front, not wanting him to see how crushed she was by his reaction to her touch. “Let’s just forget it.” She raised her head and gave him a forced smile. Glancing at the nearby clock, she saw it was after seven. Thank God it wasn’t her day to open early and luckily it wasn’t Dana’s either. “I’m sure you need to head home so you can get ready for work, and I could use a long shower too.” Maybe I’ll drown myself in there. It would probably be less painful than this.
As she began to get to her feet, she was startled
when his hand shot out and stopped her. “I—I wanted to talk to you. How about I go pick us up a coffee and some of those sugar donuts you like while you take a shower. I have a while before my first appointment this morning, so if you can spare the time, there’s something I really need to speak to you about.”
He had her curiosity up now, which made it almost impossible to say no. She figured he’d be running out of here at top speed to escape the train wreck that was her coming on to him. But apparently the man was a glutton for punishment this morning. Plus, he did offer to get her food. How bad could it be? She’d already maxed out the embarrassment factor this morning so it was surely all uphill from this point on. “Sure,” she nodded. “I’m out of sugar, though, so make sure you get extra put in my coffee and plenty of cream.”
Dylan laughed as he got to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. “I know what you like, Zoe.”
You sure do, Zoe couldn’t help thinking. Especially if that kiss was any indication. She might have all but mauled him, but he’d certainly had some tongue of his own in her mouth before he threw her across the room. Dammit, her nipples were hardening just thinking about it. She quickly crossed her arms over the saluting girls and began backing up toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to . . . yeah, take that shower now. You have your key, so let yourself back in. Don’t worry, I won’t come out naked or anything. I’m afraid you might call the cops or something this time.” Crap, crap, crap. Why did I say that?
Dylan stared at her for a moment, before giving her an uncertain smile. “I’ll be back soon. Take your time.” And thankfully he was gone. He’d slept in all his clothes along with his shoes last night. While she was wearing her skimpiest shorts and a tank top that was two sizes too small. It did make her tits look big, though, which was why she’d kept it all these years. And why does that matter when no one other than Dana has ever seen you in it?
Zoe had no intention of still being in the shower when Dylan got back so she made quick work of bathing. She pulled on a pair of her new blue jean shorts, along with a slinky, open-shouldered top in purple. She threw her damp hair into a ponytail and added the hoop earrings she’d grown fond of wearing. She heard Dylan calling her name, so she skipped the makeup for now in favor of a light coat of moisturizer. When she walked into the kitchen, her stomach rumbled loudly at the smell of coffee and donuts. He’d already settled onto a stool at the bar and was sipping his own morning brew. She took a drink from her foam cup and moaned in bliss when the creamy, sweet liquid hit her tongue. “Mmm, this tastes amazing. Please never tell anyone that I’m addicted to Dunkin’ Donuts. I’d never live it down.”
He handed her one of the sugar-covered pastries and smiled indulgently when she took a huge bite. “You’ve got some on your chin,” he pointed out as he reached out to wipe it away. When he put his finger in his mouth and sucked the sweetness off, Zoe felt her clit jump to attention. He’d done that a million times before, so why was it such a turn-on today? Ah hell, the man could probably pick his nose and belch the National Anthem and she’d still be sitting here drooling over him like a lovesick fool.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked around her mouthful of deliciousness. She needed to do something to derail her hormonally overloaded brain before she orgasmed on the spot. He’s sweating again! Oh, dear God, he’s going to tell me he’s sick. That would explain so much. The remains of her breakfast fell from her nerveless fingers as her stomach churned. “Dylan, what’s going on? You’re seriously beginning to freak me out.”
“I know your big secret, Zoe, and why you’ve made all these changes. This sudden urge to date every night makes perfect, but twisted, sense to me now.”
She could feel the color drain from her face. I swear I’ll kill Dana. I don’t care if she was drunk or not, how could she tell him how I feel? Zoe was doing her best to come up with some explanation for damage control, but so far had nothing. Maybe I should go ahead and get it out there. No sense denying it now.
She had opened her mouth to tell him everything, when he blurted out, “You told me last night that you’re still a virgin.” So not where I thought he was going with this. Silence. Nothing but complete and utter silence for so long as Zoe stared, dumbfounded.
“I—okay,” she finally replied. “Not sure what you want me to say here.” Floor, open up and swallow me whole. Phone, ring. Pipes, burst. Please, anything to create a diversion so I can escape the most awkward moment of my life. But as usual, the universe ignored her pleas for help and left her exactly where she was—facing her best friend, who now knew she qualified for nun status. Well, except for her potty mouth. At least he doesn’t know you’re in love with him. That’s something.
Dylan rubbed his forehead as he always did when he was rattled. “Shit,” he finally sighed. “I’m just going to lay it out there. I don’t want you sleeping with some dirt bag just to get your cherry popped. Er . . . I mean, to get experience. You’ve waited for twenty-nine years and your first time should be with someone who cares about you.”
Relying on humor to lessen the tension, Zoe smirked before rolling her eyes. “It’s not as if I planned to do it in the back of a Buick, Dylan. I’d at least expect the man to spring for a room at Howard Johnson’s.”
Dylan’s lips twitched before he became somber once again. “I mean it, Zoe. I realize that this is personal and probably not any of my business, but you know I love you. Even if I don’t tell you that often enough.”
She melted at his words, wishing he meant them in some way other than friendship or, God forbid, the sisterly type of affection. “I love you too, Dylan,” she replied. “And I really appreciate you looking out for me. No matter what, I can always depend on you.”
He nodded, looking pleased with her response. He appeared to take a deep breath, which had her bracing. It did absolutely no good, though, because she was rocked to her core with his next statement. “Good, because I think I should be your first. We both love and respect each other, so it’s the perfect solution, don’t you think?”
Zoe felt as if the floor had been pulled out from under her. Was he actually saying he wanted them to have sex? Her gut reaction was to jump up and down while pumping her fist and yelling, “Yes, yes, yes!” But somehow that seemed a little too enthusiastic for the controlled way that he was presenting the idea. Maybe she should tell him she’d ponder it and e-mail him later. Okay, that might be too nonchalant. But how in the heck were you supposed to react when your secret love/best friend offered to deflower you? Was there a Losing Your Virginity for Dummies that she could buy? Needing to clarify that she’d understood him correctly, she asked, “So you’re saying you want to . . . do the deed with me?” Way to go. You sound like a teenage boy.
He grinned, looking so heart-stoppingly handsome that Zoe had to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. He really was a gorgeous man and so flipping sexy. She wanted to crawl across the table and lick his dimples. “Well, I’d prefer to think of it as making love with you. But yeah, that’s the general idea.” He said “making love.” Surely, that means something. “We love each other, so I believe that would translate into the special night that you deserve for your first time.”
Suddenly this wasn’t sounding as good. If she understood him correctly, this was a one-shot deal. There was no indication that he had any type of feelings for her other than friendship, nor did he plan to change their relationship from what it currently was. He wanted to be her first simply to keep her from sleeping with a stranger. He had no idea that she was only pretending to date to snag his interest. Well, she appeared to have that, but not exactly in the way she’d intended. Now what? She finally settled on, “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t you take some time to think it over,” he suggested. “But I’d really prefer that you didn’t sleep with anyone else until we talk again.”
Shaking her head, she said wryly, “I’ve waited this long, Dylan, it’s not likely I’m going to drop my panti
es for just anyone. I do have a few standards, you know. I think I’m capable of keeping myself under control for a few days.”
He tossed a donut crumb off the table at her. “Smart-ass.”
She couldn’t stop herself from asking something she was very curious about. “So how would this work exactly? You’d come over and we’d have sex, then we’d go on as if nothing had happened?”
He appeared thoughtful as if really considering her words. Apparently, he hadn’t thought the details out before making the proposal. Finally, he said, “I believe it would be a good idea to lead up to it a bit, so you’ll be more comfortable. We already spend a lot of time together, but this would be a little different. We could go out for dinner. Come back and have a glass of wine and relax, then go from there. If at any time you want to back out, then of course, we stop.”
Zoe squeezed her knees together, as images of them filled her head. He was offering her a piece of what she’d wanted for so long. Only it didn’t come with all the trimmings that she’d imagined in her fantasies of them. Should she take what he was offering and hope that they were so hot together in bed that he’d want more? Or would continuing on with Dana’s plan be a better option? It had certainly gotten Dylan’s attention in a short amount of time. But what if he washed his hands of the whole thing when she turned him down? Plus, she hadn’t consciously saved herself for Dylan, but was there really not anyone else she’d rather experience sex with for the first time? He must be attracted to her at the very least to be suggesting such a thing. He had to get his flag up the pole, after all. Okay, so maybe some men were machines and could perform regardless, but she didn’t think that was true of Dylan. Unless . . . What if this is a mercy fuck? How do I ask him that, or do I even want to know? “Dylan—this isn’t . . . You don’t pity me or anything like that, do you? That isn’t what this is about, is it?”
Keeping It Hot (The Breakfast in Bed #1) Page 6
