Boy Toy
I bounce from shop to shop, spending the day at the Beverly Center and Rodeo Drive and then hitting up all my favorite boutiques around Melrose Place. That doesn’t eat up nearly enough time, however, and so I add a massage and a facial into the mix, then follow that with dinner and a ten o’clock movie. Afterward, I sit in my car and consider calling my film agent to see if she wants to meet for drinks at the Chateau Marmont, but considering it’s already past midnight, I nix that plan.
I consider going by myself, but the thought sobers me. I don’t want to be alone anymore.
The truth is, I want Dallas. I’ve wanted him all day. But I’ve been avoiding him because it feels like that’s what I should be doing.
I should be staying away.
I should be keeping some distance. Evaluating. Figuring things out.
The trouble is, I figured out me and Dallas years ago. And it’s not a question of should, but of how.
I know we should be together—I’ve always known that. What is still tormenting us is the question of how. And that’s a much trickier one.
But I’m pretty damn sure that the answer doesn’t lie in a bar or a mall or a movie theater. And it sure as hell doesn’t lie in running away.
And the truth is, as much as I hate the thought that he slept with Adele of all people, I do understand why he didn’t tell me. I wish that he had, but I understand.
No, if I dig really deep I have to admit that my biggest problem isn’t that he kept a secret, but that I’m jealous. All those other women are anonymous. Even Fiona and Christine are anonymous at the core. Fungible women that aren’t really part of his life.
Adele is, though. Like it or not, she’s right there in both our lives. Maybe not at the center, but she’s sure as hell sitting comfortably on the periphery. Which means I’m going to continue to see her. To be around her. And each and every time I’m going to think about how Dallas touched her. About how she knows the truth about us. About how she played those mind games with him, and put the thought of me right there in bed with the two of them.
And honestly, I really don’t want to be thinking any of that.
With a sigh, I grab hold of the steering wheel then close my eyes and rest my forehead on my hands. I want to erase Adele from my thoughts, but that’s not possible. There’s no turning back time. There’s no changing the past. If there was, god knows I would have done it a long time ago.
So I just have to go forward—and it’s Dallas that I want to go forward with.
Which means it’s time to go home.
It’s time to cry in the arms of the man that I love, then let him dry my tears as we move forward, leaving Adele and all the shit behind.
It’s almost one in the morning when I get home. I expect Dallas will still be up, but I’m surprised to find him asleep on the sofa bed, an empty bottle of scotch on the table next to him, along with a mostly empty glass. The television is still tuned to ESPN, the volume low, and the flickering light illuminates his sleeping face.
His clothes are on the floor, and I see his briefs and realize that I’m wet simply from the knowledge that he’s naked under the sheet. I stand for a moment, debating whether I should wake him up to talk, but then he rolls onto his back. I see the way the sheet tents over his erection, and my whole body tightens with desire. I want him, plain and simple. But more than that, I want him to know that I forgive him. That I’m sorry, too.
I also think about the last time that I took advantage of his erection while he was sleeping. My throat still hurts, and he’d been so incredibly freaked out that he’d bolted. If I try again, how will he react? Will he get lost in the nightmare? And if he does, will he wake in time, or will he hurt me? Because god knows he could have gone a lot further the last time.
But I also need him to understand that I still trust him, and what better way is there?
I strip off my clothes, tug down the sheet, and carefully straddle him. Slowly—so wonderfully slowly—I lower myself, relishing the way he fills me and hoping that this time we can take this all the way. I want to see the passion and power when he explodes inside me. And we’ve already gotten so close—so damn close.
My thoughts are as wild as my breath, and I ride him hard—harder than I have before when we’ve done this, and I realize it’s because part of me wants him to wake up. I want to see his face and know that he’s in the now. Right here. With me.
I want to make this work. Dammit, somehow we have to make this work. Sex and life and everything.
I have one hand on his chest and the other on my clit, and I’m stroking myself and his cock, rock hard now and deep inside me. He is filling me completely, and my eyes are so focused on his face that I don’t realize that his hands have moved. They’re no longer at his sides, but now cup my ass, his fingers squeezing me as he works with me, pushing me down onto him harder and harder so that this ride is growing wilder and wilder, and I don’t know if he’s dreaming or awake. I just know that I love the way he’s filling me. Taking me.
And then he opens his eyes and I gasp—He’s awake. Awake and aroused and with me. He’s right there with me, his eyes on mine. His breath coming in time with mine. We’re in perfect sync, his cock inside me, and that knowledge is even more of a turn on than the way his body feels locked with mine.
I see a wicked, triumphant grin spread across his face, but I’m unprepared when he moves suddenly to roll us over so that I’m on my back and he’s on top of me.
He’s still hard, and I shudder with pleasure as he thrusts inside me, again and again, our bodies slapping together in a wild fury that I so want to lead to an explosion. And we’re close—we’re both so deliciously close. I can see it on his face. I can feel it in the tension of his body. Just a little bit longer and—
But it’s no good, and with a raw curse, he pulls out of me, soft now, and rolls onto his side, pulling me along with him, his arm around my waist, my eyes looking into his.
“Dallas.” I don’t know what to say. I want to soothe. I want to celebrate. I’m afraid that he’s disappointed, but he quiets me with a kiss so deep and passionate that it erases all my worries and sends me floating off to a place where there’s only desire and pleasure as Dallas marks a trail of kisses down my neck, between my breasts, and then all the way down my abdomen to my pelvis.
His tongue teases me, and the instant he closes his mouth over my sensitive clit, I explode against him, all of the built-up passion and energy radiating out of me in one vibrant, massive, overwhelming orgasm that he draws out by teasing my clit with his tongue, playing me like a finely tuned instrument from which he is determined to coax a concerto.
Finally, when he has drained me fully, he slides up my body and cups my face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, then kisses my temple and teases my earlobe. “I’m so sorry.”
I brush a kiss over his lips. “Thank you,” I say sincerely. “I’m sorry, too.” I reach for his hand and twine our fingers together as he pulls me even closer and I rest my head in the curve of his shoulder. “We’re stronger together than apart, you know.”
“Because we’re meant to be together, Jane. We’ve known it our whole lives.”
I nod, acknowledging the truth of his words. “But it only works if we are together. Don’t you get that, Dallas? I can’t be with you, if you don’t let me in.”
I see his throat move as he swallows. “I know,” he says. “I should have told you about Adele. About Deliverance. About what the Woman did to me after they released you. All of it.” He shifts, so that he is looking at me more directly. “But, Jane, you have to know that whatever I’ve kept from you, I did it because I thought it was right. I had a reason. I would never deliberately hurt you. All I ever want to do is keep you safe.”
“I know.” I brush a kiss over his lips. “I really do know that.”
He reaches over to grab his phone and check the time. “It’s tomorrow,” he says, then grins. “Happy birthday. What do you want to do today?”
I snuggle closer. “I’m already doing it.”
My ear is pressed against his chest now, and I both feel and hear his chuckle. “You know, yesterday you were pretty mad at me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re my brother.” I prop myself up on an elbow. “I’ve spent my life being mad at you and getting over it.” I see his face and roll my eyes. “Don’t look like that. It’s our reality. We can’t exactly hide from it.”
I push up and then straddle his waist, forcing him all the way onto his back. “So this is what we’re going to do on my birthday. I’m going to work on scene revisions. You’re going to lounge on my deck looking like my gorgeous boy toy. Then we’re going to go to a concert. And when we come back, you’re going to fuck me hard.”
“Am I?”
“Oh, yes. Tie me up. Spank me. Fuck me however and wherever you want.” I slide my hand over his now-hard cock. “I have a few interesting toys in my bedside drawer, so feel free to help yourself. But that’s what I want. To be used by you. Very, very thoroughly.”
His eyes are alight with a very wicked shade of green. “Sounds more like a present for me.”
“Believe me, I want it.”
He slides his finger between my legs, and I’m so sensitive that even that gentle touch on my clit makes me shudder as electricity tingles over every inch of my skin.
“Yeah,” he says. “I guess you do.”
We snuggle close again and sleep until almost lunchtime. And then we spend the day exactly how I said we would. It’s LA, so the weather is gorgeous, and my deck has such a wonderful view of the hills and city beyond that it’s easy to pass the time out there, me working and Dallas reading, with only small breaks for food and conversation. It’s nice and comfortable. It feels like home.
Hell, it feels awesome.
As the afternoon draws late, I shut down my laptop and head to the railing, then look out over the green hills below and wisps of white clouds above. After a moment, Dallas joins me, his arms encircling me at the waist. I lean back against him and sigh deeply. “This is nice,” I say. “If I didn’t have two tickets for a concert tonight, I might have to stay here and do naughty things with you.”
He tightens his grip and kisses my ear, then whispers, “I promise we’ll be naughty tonight,” with such heat that I’m tempted to forgo showering and changing clothes in favor of pulling him down on a chaise lounge and having my way with him.
Soon enough for that, though.
“I need to get ready,” I say, then start to push back from the rail so I can head inside to my bedroom.
He tugs me to a stop. “If you don’t mind, I thought we could go with some friends tonight. They can swing by and pick us up.”
“Oh.” I’m a little surprised; I hadn’t expected that we’d be going with other people.
“But only if you’re cool with having company tonight,” he hurries to say. “I’m more than willing to have you all to myself.”
“Who?”
“Damien and his wife, Nikki,” he says.
“Damien Stark?” I ask, referring to the professional tennis player turned entrepreneur turned multi-billionaire.
“Westerfield’s is his club, and he’s the one who scored the tickets for me.”
I nod, the pieces falling into place. “You invested in that island resort one of his companies recently launched, right?” I try to remember what I read about the high-end retreat just off the coast. “The Resort at Cortez?”
“I did. And the architect and project manager would be joining us, too. Jackson Steele and his wife, Sylvia. But only if you’re okay with company. It’s your birthday, and that means your wish is my command.”
I slide my arms around him and press close. “I like the sound of that,” I admit. “But I’ll issue my commands after the concert. I’m happy to go with your friends. Honestly, I’d like to hear more about the resort. It sounds amazing.”
“We can go tomorrow, if you want. I’ve got a little bungalow there, actually. An investor perk. What do you say? Concert in public tonight, with both of us on our best behavior? Island getaway tomorrow, alone and being very, very naughty?”
I laugh, remembering the last time we were alone together on an island; frankly, naughty is an understatement. “Actually,” I say, “I think that sounds like an absolutely perfect plan.”