Chapter 5
FIONA
I can’t stop mulling over everything that happened yesterday. After Dylan and I had sex without much more than a brief introduction in the make-up room, I had to get the hell out of there. Because what the hell happened? He’s Ricky’s identical twin! I just fucked twins?
Okay, not simultaneously. I don’t ever want to touch Ricky again. But I had sex with the bad twin just a couple days ago, and it ended the way it always does. Him in me, grunting and straining while blasting me with his seed. Me, stiff as a board, with a nervous smile on my face.
That’s not that incredible in and of itself. What’s incredible is that I met Ricky’s twin, Dylan, just this morning, and had crazy hot sex with him too. What woman makes out with twins one right after another? It’s like the Jerry Springer show.
But at the same time, I’d been so attracted to Dylan, and the loving had been amazing. Totally fulfilling, and my pussy’s still sore from the hard pounding from that huge cock. But once he left, I went into panic mode. Because holy shit, what had I done? I’d just gotten down with a customer, and a big one at that. My company’s contract was probably going to be terminated.
So in a panic, I fled with my make-up case in hand. It wasn't until afterwards that I realized that by leaving, I’d made things even worse - it’s customary for the make-up artist to hang around during the shoot for touch-ups. Now I’d really blown it.
But it was too late now. I couldn’t go back. I got back home and for the second time in 24 hours, curled up on the sofa with a tub of ice-cream and a girly movie. Only this time I couldn’t focus on the story or characters. Instead, all I thought about was my own relationship problems, and the identical twins that I just got it on with, one right after another. Holy cow. Overwhelmed, I gave up trying to watch and flipped the TV off before heading to bed, exhausted and confused.
A sound jolts me from my sleep. I sit up, blinking blindly before fumbling for my phone. Oh shit, it’s Kim, my boss at LOLA, the creative agency that employs me.
“Well, done!” she says brightly into my ear. For a moment I’m confused.
“What for?” I ask stupidly.
“Dylan Masterson! The CEO of Karmax!” she explains happily. Holy shit - is she congratulating me for fucking Dylan? Oh god, oh god. This is so twisted. What do I do now?
“Um,” I murmur, not knowing what to say. But Kim cuts me off.
“Mr. Masterson called the office and made another appointment with you! You must have done a great job, because Karmax wants you back for another assignment today!” she squeals.
Relief floods my chest. Oh, thank god. I didn’t fuck up. Instantly, I feel like an idiot for not realizing straight away what she meant.
“Well done, Fiona,” Kim continues chattering. “I’m so happy with your work on this. If we get the Karmax account, can you imagine how our business will grow? Our brand?” She's basically shrieking now, but I’m unable to respond. “Okay, you’ve clearly haven’t had your coffee yet, but get some joe and then get your ass over to Karmax! I’ll send you the deets,” she chirps. And with a click, my manager hangs up.
I have no idea what to make of this. Does Dylan want to see me again? It can’t be. He’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, and I’m a lowly make-up artist. But what other explanation is there? Does he really need his make-up done again? That seems unlikely.
So I pack my bag slowly, confused and unsure. On the one hand, I’m excited to see the alpha billionaire. But on the other, I had sex with his twin just days ago. Do I tell him? Do I confess, or do I keep it a secret? Plus, what does Dylan think of me after our chance encounter? What kind of girl gives herself up to an older man she’s only just met?
Well, the voice in my head speaks, he was a willing participant too.
But it’s different for him – Mr. Masterson’s the incredibly hot, charismatic billionaire CEO of a huge corporation. He can do whatever he wants and get away with it, whereas I can’t get away with anything. Oh god, what do I do?
As I drive to the Karmax office, my thoughts swirl. With my stomach in knots, I decide the best course of action is to be professional. There’s probably a team there of photographers and lighting assistants, not to mention his assistant. So taking a deep breath, I brace myself. Be professional, the words chime in my mind. This is a job, nothing else.
But when I arrive at Dylan’s building, his assistant shows me directly into his office. There’s no one there. No photographers, no lighting team, and not even Dylan himself. His big chair sits empty behind a hulking granite desk with floor-to-ceiling views of the Hudson River spread out behind. I turn to his assistant with a puzzled expression.
“Mr. Masterson will be here shortly,” he assures me before scurrying away. Oh god. I feel silly now, carrying my make-up kit when there’s no sign of a meeting, but oh well. It always pays to be prepared.
Hurriedly I straighten my tight, high-waisted pencil skirt that hugs my wide hips and tapers at the waist. And I sassily unbutton the top of my shirt a little more just to get some air. It feels like all the oxygen in the room has disappeared, making it hard to breathe. I smooth my hair and pinch my cheeks, hoping to look a little more alive.
Suddenly, the door opens. Wearing an impeccable suit, Dylan steps in with a motion like quicksilver - so smooth and sure of himself. My breath stops in my throat. He closes the door and turns to smile at me with that slow, careful smile with one of the sides of his mouth higher than the other. That dimple. That sparkle in his blue eyes. That perfect jawline.
“Hey Fiona,” he says in his deep, pleasant voice. I can’t help but answer his warm voice with an involuntary smile. I feel shy.
“Mr. Masterson,” I say, trembling. “Good to see you again.”
“Call me Dylan, please,” he says, that deep voice making chills down my spine.
His hands go into his pockets as he looks at me steadily, taking me in with that penetrating blue gaze. All my nerves melt away instantly. There’s something in his smile that makes me feel safe and cared for, like whatever is about to happen is all in his control and he won’t let anything go wrong. He starts walking over to me slowly, sidestepping the leather couch and coffee table between us.
“Thank you for coming,” he rasps in that baritone voice. The CEO is impossibly handsome, destroying my resolve to play it cool. I can’t breathe and I can’t swallow because I want him too much. He grins as if it’s easy to read my mind.
“I apologize if you feel I’ve brought you here under false pretences,” he says, shooting a glance at the make-up kit on the floor. “The fact is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met yesterday. I had to see you again. I hope you can forgive me for the white lie,” he says sincerely.
He wants to see me? Color rushes to my cheeks.
“Of course,” I manage, not recognizing my own voice. “I mean, I-I don’t mind,” comes my ridiculous stammer. I don’t tell him it’s what I’d been hoping this was going to be. But since he’s being honest, I feel like I need to come clean as well. Because my secret’s too important. I can’t have sex with him again without him knowing that I used to date his twin brother! He takes another step forward and takes my hard, sending butterflies erupting in a flutter in my belly.
“Dylan, wait,” I whisper. “I have to tell you something.” He smiles down at me encouragingly, waiting for me to go on. “I - the reason I recognized you yesterday - I mean - the person I thought you were - was your brother, Ricky,” I manage, stumbling over my words.
Oh no, I’ve got his attention now. His smile wavers, and I see a flicker of confusion in the blue of his eyes as he stares down at me. It’s now or never. He needs to know and I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze.
“Ricky and I used to date. For about a month. We only just broke up. In fact, we broke up the day before yesterday. The day before I met you. That’s why I was so startled to see you come into the make-up room - Ricky had mentioned once, in passing, that he had an identical twin brother, but he never told me your name or anything about you.” My words come out choppy and choked, but at least they’re out. They hang in the air between us and I have a momentary panic attack. Oh god. Is he going to throw me out of his office? What if he never wants to see me again? What if he thinks I’m a whore?
But instead, Dylan takes my hand.
“Oh really?” he growls with a wry smile, one eyebrow raised. “So you used to date my twin? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
What? What does that mean? The CEO’s managed to take me by surprise. But I’m so relieved that the words are out … and the real story can begin.