Dylan
The sky was dark and very few people were on the street as I grabbed a cab in the cold. We were due a snowfall.
When I received Beth’s text explaining the guy she was travelling with was her brother, I’d tried to dismiss it as bullshit. In a lot of ways it would have been easier if she were the cheater I’d suspected. Seeing her with him had made me realize she had the power to wound me, and I didn’t like anything that had power over me.
It was too late.
I’d had a dull ache drifting through my muscles and joints since I’d first seen her in the airport lounge, and I wanted to be rid of it. I knew touching, kissing, sucking, and fucking Beth would chase it away.
But what she was saying wasn’t bullshit. It made perfect sense and fit with everything she’d told me about him and about her and her life. As she’d pointed out, I’d been an ass.
I strode through the lobby and headed toward the bar. I didn’t see her, so I grabbed a stool and ordered a soda water and some chocolate mousse.
I waited twenty minutes before the elevator doors pinged open and Beth stepped out.
The ache inside me intensified as I took in her mouth, hips and beautiful eyes. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning at her, but her lips were tight.
I slipped off my stool. “Hey.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
“Hey.” She stared at my shoulder.
She took a seat next to me, her stool facing into the bar as mine pointed toward her.
“Can I get a virgin mojito?” I asked the waiter.
I grabbed her hand and ran my thumb over her knuckles. “I’m really sorry. I feel like a jerk.”
She continued to look at my shoulder. “That’s because you were a jerk.”
“I should have trusted you. I’m not good with that—trusting people. Trusting women.”
Finally, she glanced at me. “I struggle sometimes, too. But you can’t ask me to trust you and then not do the same.”
She was a setting out the first rule of our relationship. It was an acknowledgment that this was no longer a one-night stand. We had shifted into a different space. We’d been inching toward something with the phone calls and the texts, but my reaction to seeing her with her brother and her need for my trust—that took us to the next stage.
She mattered to me.
“I know. It won’t happen again.” For so long I hadn’t concerned myself with trusting a woman, or having a woman trust me. I was rusty when it came to relationships, but I needed to remember quickly if I didn’t want to lose Beth.
I linked my fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. I sighed in relief when she returned the gesture.
“How come you didn’t tell me you were in London?”
It was a good question and I needed to be truthful with her, even if it was embarrassing. She’d asked me to trust her. She deserved that.
“I flew in overnight on Wednesday and was in meetings all day Thursday. Meetings I could have done by conference call in Chicago. I wanted to see you, and thought I’d surprise you at the airport.” It felt good to be honest with her.
She spun her stool to face me and cocked her head. “Are you saying you flew to London just to surprise me at the airport?”
I nodded. “I told you I was a douche. I’m really sorry for jumping to conclusions.”
She slid off her stool and stepped toward me. “You’re a peach,” she whispered as she leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
I chuckled. “I’ll take that.”
“We’re going to need two chocolate mousse parfaits for room 1204, please,” she called to the bartender.
“Make me a promise,” she said as we headed toward the elevators, holding hands like long-term lovers.
“Anything.” I meant it.
“Whatever this is and however long it lasts, let’s agree that there will be no secrets or lies. I want to have fun with you. I don’t want to spend time second-guessing you.” She crinkled her brow, willing me to agree.
“My sweet, that’s such an easy promise to make. No secrets or lies for however long this lasts.” I kissed her on the forehead.
“I believe you and promise the same. I hope you believe me, too.”
“I do. I really do.” I shouldn’t compare her to Alicia, or cast Beth with the same lack of compassion or morality. She was fresh and exciting, soft and authentic. She was nothing like Alicia.
The ache I’d had all day for her ebbed away and in its place a lightness settled.
I wanted to give more, wanted more in return. “But, I have a request.” Her lips parted as she looked at me, waiting for me to say what was on my mind. “Whatever it is we’re doing, I want to be only doing it with you exclusively.”
Her pouty lips widened into a smile. “I can do that.”
I bent forward and kissed the beauty spot on her cheekbone. “I’m glad.”
We entered her room, walking straight through the living area to the bedroom.
“Talk to me about the TV thing.” As soon as the words had left my mouth, I realized that I hadn’t told her that I owned it. Was that technically a secret? A lie? Did she need to know? I just couldn’t tell her before I told Raf; it felt disloyal.
She scooted onto the bed. “I signed.”
“You signed?” I crawled over her, forcing her to her back.
“I did. Six shows.”
I dropped my lips to her collarbone. She smelled like cinnamon. I placed small kisses across her throat.
“Does that mean you’ll be back in Chicago for six weeks?” I pulled back to look at her.
She screwed up her lips. “No. They’ve agreed that they’ll film them all so I just have to come over once.”
“You don’t like Chicago?” I moved her to her side, stroking my thumb between her tits and over her stomach.
She thought about it. “Yeah. It’s where I grew up and where I remember my mom and still see my dad.” She trailed her hands up my back. “Memories of her are one of the things that makes Chicago great, and one of the things that makes Chicago tough.” I nodded, not wanting to interrupt her. I wanted to hear more, know more about her. “And there was other heartbreak here, too. In London, I feel like a new, adult Beth. She’s really the only person I want to be now.”
“She’s a very special woman.” London wasn’t so far away, was it?
She cupped my face in her hand; I closed my eyes at her touch.
Facing the possibility of cutting her out of my life had made me realize what I could lose—and not just Beth, but something bigger. She represented a different possibility for me. A different kind of life, one where I shared it with someone.
The moment was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Stay there. I’ll get it.”
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed when I returned carrying two martini glasses of chocolate mousse and two spoons.
I kicked my shoes off and joined her on the bed, sitting opposite her, copying her pose. Last time we’d done this we’d been virtual strangers. Now, sitting with her fully clothed and eating mousse was far more intimate than before. How was that possible?
I watched as she slipped the spoon into her mouth and closed her eyes. “You’re so sexy.” The words slipped from my mouth before I had a chance to stop them.
She opened her eyes. “Back at you. I meant to say so earlier, but this casual look you have going on suits you.”
I glanced down at my jeans and shirt as she waved her hand toward me. I guess she’d never seen me out of a suit.
“I mean the suit thing is hot with a capital H, but you can rock a pair of jeans with that ass.”
I chuckled. “Well, coming from the woman with the best ass in the universe, I’ll take it as a compliment.”
She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. “You should. I’m picky about the asses I date.” She blushed. “Not that we’re dating, I just mean—”
My heart thudded as I lifted her chin with my finger. “I’d like it if we were dating. Exclusively, if you want to try that.”
She smiled. “I’d like to.”
I nodded. “Good.”
Against my better judgment, I wanted more with this girl. More than I’d had with anyone since Alicia.
“I’m still hungry.” Beth had finished her mousse and was looking at me with sad eyes.
“I can order some more.”
“Not that kind of hungry.” She cocked her shoulder and looked at me from under her lashes.
This was new: she was making the first move. I liked that her confidence had increased; it meant she trusted me.
I set my glass on the bedside table. “What kind of hungry are you?” I lifted up on my knees and crawled toward her, coaxing her to her back.
I dropped a kiss on the corner of her lip. “That kind of hungry?”
“Hmmm, maybe.” She ran her hands up my chest and widened her legs as I held myself over her.
I dipped my head to her neck and swirled my tongue over her skin, then bit. “That kind of hungry?”
“Not quite, but almost.” Her voice was breathy and labored and filled with the need for more.
I pulled her top out of her skirt and peeled it off, revealing her incredible tits. Amazing. But I couldn’t stop to admire them. I needed her naked. I slid off her skirt and panties, followed by her bra. And there she was, laid out in front of me, naked and ready.
I smoothed my hands down her body, reminding myself of every curve. “Are you hungry for this?”
She grabbed my shirt and pulled me atop her, palming my cock through my jeans. “This.”
I groaned. She wanted my dick. If I’d had any doubt she was perfect for me before, she’d just erased it.
“That, my sweet, I can help you with.”
I pulled off my shirt, my eyes fixed on hers. She smiled and reached for her pussy. Fuck, she could make me hard so quickly. “No,” I barked.
“No?” She began to circle her fingers. As much as I wanted her to stop, to let me give her pleasure, the sight of her, one leg bent, her hand between her thighs, was one of the most glorious things I’d ever seen.
I kicked off my jeans and boxers and crawled back to her, knocking her hand away and replacing it with my own. “This is what you want?” I asked, pressing her nub as she arched her back.
“More,” she groaned. “I want you inside me.”
I grabbed a condom out of my wallet. She watched as I slid it over my dick, then flipped to her stomach.
“Hey.” I grabbed her hip and tried to pull her back. “Turn over. I want to see you.”
I’d always fucked her from behind, but tonight I needed it to be more.
Her cheeks flushed and she moved to face me, reaching for my face. I crawled up between her thighs and slid my rock-hard cock over her entrance, up and across her clit. As usual, she was wet and ready, as if she had a constant need for me.
She writhed beneath me as I teased her. “More,” she breathed. “Please.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, basking in her cries.
She grasped my shoulders as I positioned myself at her entrance and slid inside, inch by inch.
With each movement, she seemed to relax and melt against me.
If she were the only thing left in my world, I’d be a happy man.
Beth
I’d never felt so intimate with anyone. Dylan and I hardly knew each other, but it was as if he understood me, saw me, and wanted me, despite everything.
Our fight earlier had made me realize that although what we had was meant to be easy, losing him would have been anything but.
I cupped his face as he moved over me. We’d never had sex face-to-face, and watching him trying to hold back was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to me. He growled and dipped his lips to my shoulder.
“This is it,” I whispered. “This is what I’m hungry for. You.”
He thrust into me, winding me. “Jesus, Beth. If you say things like that, I can’t . . .”
“You can’t what?”
He groaned and pushed again. “I can’t hold back. You feel too good—you’re too beautiful.”
I pushed my hips up to meet his, enjoying the sensation of him so very deep in me, of the physical connection matching the emotional one that had been created today. “Don’t, Dylan. Don’t hold back.”
He began his rhythm in earnest, his strain written across his face. “Like this?” he choked out. I opened my mouth but only sounds came out. It was as if he were chasing away the unpleasantness of what had passed between us, leaving only the moment.
Sweat formed across his brow and his breath shortened. His thrusts were tighter and deeper.
I threw my hands above me, making sure I didn’t hit the headboard, though I wasn’t sure I would notice, even if I did.
“This is how you want it? Hard and deep?”
I shuddered beneath him as the beginnings of a storm gathered deep inside me. He knew exactly what I needed and how to give it to me.
I lost myself in the drag, each thrust heightening the sensitivity in every part of my body. The storm grew louder. I wasn’t going to be able to stop my climax as it raced toward me.
I grasped at his shoulders and dug my fingernails into his skin.
“Oh God . . . so tight. Jesus.” I didn’t hear the rest of what he said as my climax crashed into me, leaving me breathless and desperate.
He buried his head in my neck, crying my name before collapsing on top of me.
I clutched him tight, wanting to freeze-frame this perfect moment.
We lay in silence as I trailed my fingers over his back.
Sated.
Exhausted.
Comfortable.
“It’s never been like that before,” I finally said. He pulled out, discarded the condom and lay on his back, pulling me toward him. “I mean we’ve never . . .”
“That wasn’t fucking. That was something more.”
My stomach flip-flopped at his words. He felt it too.
He kissed the top of my head. “How long are you here?”
“Just until Saturday. Tomorrow I have lunch with my producer and his assistant—I think they thought it would take longer to negotiate my contract.”
“Did you get a lawyer to look at it?”
“No, I didn’t bother.”
“Beth, you should have said. I could have had a lawyer look at it.”
“Haven’s brother is a lawyer; he would have looked at it, but the way I see it I have nothing to lose. I’m getting what I need just by them asking. My main concern was ensuring I didn’t have to fly over here every week.”
“Nothing to incentivize you to do that, huh?”
I slapped him on the arm. “You know what I mean. I don’t want to have to fly over. If I choose to, that’s a different matter.” He kissed me on my head. “I’ll be over here to do the filming, then again when the first segment airs. I think they said they want to do a live interview.”
“So you’ll be back next when you film your segments?”
“Yeah, in about two weeks.” I liked that he was interested—more than liked it.
“How long will it take?”
“A day, I think. They don’t have much time and they’re only five minute slots.”
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “You’re here on the twentieth?”
“Filming on the eighteenth.” I pressed my lips against his six-pack.
“Well, could you stay a few days? I have a gala for the charity I’m a patron of. We could go together. What do you think?”
“A charity gala as our first date?” It was kinda public and very real. I knew I wanted to date Dylan, but going to a gala together just brought into focus that it was the first time since Louis that I would be someone’s date.
But Dylan wasn’t Louis. He’d given me no reason not to trust him.
“I might shout for dinner before then, but I’d love to have you as a distraction at the gala. It would make the evening much more interesting.” He slid the phone back onto the table.
“Like in public when we’ve got clothes on and stuff? I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s my kind of thing.” I laughed as I poked him in the abs.
He chuckled. “I promise we can do lots of things naked before and after.”
“If you promise.”
He rolled me to my back and claimed my mouth, pushing his tongue between my lips, making me want him again. Pulling back, he brushed my hair away from my face. “You could stay at mine when you come back. There’s no need for you to get a hotel.”
Only a few hours ago he’d been so mad he could barely look at me, and now here we were, dating, going to charity galas. He’d invited me to stay at his house.
“Can I think about it?”
He moved off me. “Sure.”
“I want to. It’s just, I’m so used to having my own space. I can be crotchety and mean sometimes, and I’m not sure I’m ready for you to see that side of me quite yet.”
He chuckled. “I bet you couldn’t be mean if you tried.”
I stroked a hand down his chest.
“But I can be patient. You think about it.”
“I like you. And I want to do this. I just may need a little time to adjust. I’ve been single a long time.”
He smiled. “I know that feeling. And the alcohol stuff—is that something I need to be . . . I mean, do I need to do anything, or not do . . .”
I rested my chin on his chest and gazed at him. “I’m the alcoholic. You can’t make me drink or stop me from drinking. That’s all me. But what’s between us is new, so I need to just make sure I’m working my program.”
“Do you have a sponsor and stuff?”
I smiled at him. “Sure. I went for a meeting today after I left the studio. My sponsor’s in London, and I check in with her. I’m not newly sober; I just need to make sure I don’t get complacent.”
He smoothed the hair from my face. “Do you mind talking about it?”
“With some people, maybe, but not you.” Because I’d already told him the most intimate thing about me, the first time we met, it had laid a foundation that made it easy to talk to him, easy to be honest. “It’s not like I go around with a placard saying I’m an alcoholic—my life is not my alcoholism. Not now.” I wanted him to know that I wasn’t weak and fragile. Overcoming alcoholism had given me strength.
“WCIL asking me to do this show means the last four years haven’t just been about getting sober. Does that make sense?”
“I get that,” he said, stroking the hair from my face. “Were you always an alcoholic? What caused it?”
I liked that he was asking questions, that he wasn’t afraid of the intimacy it would create.
“I’m not sure it was the cause—I think the disease has always been in me—but I started to drink when my mother died, then I had an asshole boyfriend and I just tumbled into a cycle of feeling terrible and drinking to feel better, and then drinking so much I felt terrible, so I drank more to make that go away.” My stomach twisted at the memory of those dark times. They felt like a lifetime ago.
“What made you get help?”
“Jake.” I blinked to try to stem the flow of tears. “He brought me to London, told me he loved me and wanted to have his sister back.” I smiled, trying to stop from descending into an ugly cry. I was just so grateful that my brother cared so much.
Dylan stroked his thumb across my cheekbone.
“He took me to a meeting the next day and waited outside. I think he thought I was going to skip town if he left me.” I smiled. “But I didn’t. I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to be happy. And that’s what keeps me sober. I want to be happy.”
He trailed his knuckles between my breasts and over my stomach. “I think you’re very brave.”
“I think I’m very lucky. Lucky to have Jake and lucky that my life never got to the point of no return. Nothing happened that I couldn’t fix. I see some people come in to meetings and they’ve lost everything—their families, their jobs, their homes. I was saved before I ever got that far.”
“And the asshole that you dated, what happened to him?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he’s still an asshole. Actually, Jake’s wife dated him. They went out twice. It’s a long story. But Jake ended up punching him in front of her.” I laughed. “He’d been waiting for an opportunity to do that for a while.”
“Double win.” He smiled.
“Right.”
“And he broke your heart?” he asked.
I thought about it. “Looking back, it’s hard to tell. I would have said yes, definitely, if you’d asked me straight after it happened. But I’m not sure he did break my heart. After him, I stopped trusting people, stopped trusting myself to know what was best for me. He took my power away. I think I’m still getting that back.”
He stroked my fingers splayed across his chest.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better.” His brow furrowed.
I trailed my fingers over his lips. “You’re used to solving problems.”
“I guess.”
“I don’t want you to fix me. Just be with me. Be real with me.”
He nodded. “Should I put my boxing gloves on when I meet your brother?”
My stomach flipped in the most delicious way. I wasn’t sure how Jake would react to meeting Dylan, but it sounded like Dylan wanted to find out. He was thinking about our future. Part of me shone with excitement, but there was still a part that wasn’t quite ready to let Dylan into my life in London.