Riding a Bad Boy
Emily stared into the bottom of her purse, scraping together enough change to make a long distance call and wondering how this day had gone so wrong. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she shut the door on her old life, locking it with a finality that she felt all the way down to her bones. In her mind, this trip would have gone smoothly, would have been the prefect transition from old to new. But life rarely goes according to plan. Or smoothly. All that she cared about now was getting to her sister’s place.
Her sister would understand. She had long ago broken free from their father. And despite his claims to the contrary, she managed to create a life for herself without him. Emily kept hidden the fact that she still talked to Marin. It was only a couple times a year, and only a brief call when she could sneak away, but Emily held onto that connection to her sister with a white-knuckle grip. She knew full well that doing so defied her father and Shane. It was the one thing she allowed herself to disobey and she couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry about it. She was thankful for that stubborn streak they could never train out of her, because Marin was her lifeline right now.
She had spent the better part of her drive today trying to go back and figure out when things started to go wrong between her and Shane, until she was going back trying to figure out when things had ever been right between them. And why things had to go so far before she realized that.
She could live with him telling her what to do. What to wear. How to act. She could even live with him talking to her father behind her back as if she were a child in need of constant direction. But when he hit her, it was like the dam broke.
All of those things she told herself she could live with tumbled down around her until she was standing amongst the ruins of the life she thought she was creating. The humiliation was debilitating, but she took that first hit like a punishment for all the lies she let herself believe. That one hit she could deal with because it was what she needed to finally see what loving him was costing her.
Standing at the kitchen sink just that morning, facing another day of washing his laundry, cooking his meals, and taking his insults seemed too much to bear. Leaving while she had the nerve, and while she still wore the reminder of why she was doing it plainly on her left cheek, seemed like a good idea.
It all made so much sense at the time. Leaving him. Leaving her father, her duties. She had no job; Shane didn’t allow her to work outside of the house. No friends that weren’t Shane’s friends first. There was no love between her and Shane anymore, if there ever had been to begin with, so no heartbreak to contend with. She allowed herself to be only a little sad that after all these years, she had so little to leave behind. She tried to think of it as a blessing that made leaving so easy.
But now, sitting at the scarred up counter of a greasy spoon only one state and not even 400 miles from home, she was beginning to lose confidence in her plan. She should have taken Shane’s car—a brand-new, turbocharged BMW—but instead she wanted to prove a point. She wanted to make her break on her own, so she had taken her old beater of a car. It had more rust than paint, but it was hers. Well, if she was looking to prove a point then that hunk of junk that barely limped its way to the truck stop was it. Point taken, universe.
Her fingers dug through her purse again, pausing at her wallet. One quick swipe of her credit card and it would be problem solved. Except it wasn’t really her credit card. Nothing was really hers anymore. Plus, Shane would be able to track her down if she used it.
She had no idea if Shane would actually come looking for her, but she didn’t want to chance it. She wasn’t even sure if he would notice she was gone.
No, she thought, he would notice.
As soon as he walked in the door and couldn’t smell his supper cooking, he would be hollering for her. She glanced at the clock hanging above the special’s board. It would be 8:00 in Colorado. Yep, he’d be looking.
Emily imagined him walking through the house, looking for her. What would he do when he realized she wasn’t there? Call her father? Call her? It would do him no good because she left her phone on the counter before she left. Would he decide she was too big of a hassle to track down and instead try to figure out how to cook his own supper? Emily smiled to herself as she pictured Shane mashing the buttons on the microwave. Getting food poisoning, perhaps.
“What’s so funny over there?”
Emily looked up and to her left, to a couple stools over where the counter wrapped around to the wall. She hadn’t realized someone was that close to her, or that they had been watching her. Just like Shane never let anyone but him be the center of her attention.
She looked at the man that had spoken to her, the one who had most definitely been watching her.
“Nothing, really,” she said, shaking her head and resuming her search for coins.
“Seemed like something.” His blue eyes were no longer on her; he was adding cream to his cup of coffee, stirring it.
She could have just left things like that, rebuffed the stranger trying to strike up a conversation with her. And it had been so long since she had talked to anyone without Shane stepping in that she had sort of forgotten how. Not to mention that this man was all kinds of good looking. Thick lashes shaded his blue eyes, regarding the cup he cradled in his hands. His dark hair was tied back at his nape and he was so wildly different from Shane.
Her mouth opened and words spilled out before her brain knew what it was doing.
“If it was, it wouldn’t be funny to anyone else. Funny in that warped kind of way, you know?”
The smile that slid onto his face should have been illegal.
“Who says I don’t like warped?”
Although his attitude, all confidence and attraction, sent a zip of appreciation through her, she wasn’t in the mood or the position to flirt. Not about this. She had wanted him to look at her again, to talk to her. Not talk about herself. She wished that she would have just let him drink his coffee and she could have sat and stewed by herself.
“Trust me, it’s not what you have in mind.”
“Try me,” he persisted.
“Okay,” she said, turning towards him. “Ever hear the one about the girl who left her abusive boyfriend only to have her crappy car die and nothing but his credit card to get her through until she found a bank?”
There, she thought, he won’t want to touch this situation. He’ll politely go back to drinking his coffee and leave me alone.
The muscle in his jaw tightened, as did the ones in his arms. She couldn’t help but let her eyes wander down to the smooth, ink-covered sinew. Her brows dipped, thinking back to when she once told Shane she wanted to get a tattoo. It was years ago, but his disgust still rang loudly. He told her she was never to mark her body in that disgusting way. That sure didn’t stop him from marking her with his hand.
“What are you going to do?”
Her eyes snapped back up to the man across from her, the concern in his voice contradicting his rough look. She shrugged.
“Call my sister, I guess. See if she can get me a bus ticket.”
He seemed to think about this for a minute, his eyes sweeping over her in a way she’d never experienced. She wasn’t familiar with his kind of attention, a casual curiosity. He wasn’t obliged to care, nor was there any advantage to be taken, yet he sipped at his coffee and wrinkled his forehead at her problem.
“There’s no bus station here.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t really thought it through, yet again. “I guess I’ll think of something else.”
“Can your sister come and get you?”
“Maybe.” His forehead dipped again at her answer, so she added, “Probably. I was just going to call her now.”
Emily slipped from her stool and made her way to the back of the diner. She picked up the phone, plugged in her change, and dialed. While it rang she took a peek over her shoulder to where the man’s stool was now empty.
And when a few minutes later, after she left a voicemail message for Marin and was walking across the parking lot to her car, she was glad to not have to explain her lack of a way out of here. She already knew she was in a predicament; she didn’t need him making it more obvious than it already was, no matter how good natured he was being.
The sun was setting over the truck stop, but the Texas heat had yet to ease up. Emily unlocked her car and tossed in her purse, but the heat radiating out from the inside had her shutting the door and leaning against it. It was all up to her to figure out how to get to her sister’s place. No one was going to make the decision for her. And it wasn’t like she had a ton of practice making decisions on her own. She could only imagine what Shane would say right now.
She didn’t wish she had Shane there to figure things out, just that she had done a better job of planning her escape. If she had been smart about things and waited a few days to get things in order, this probably wouldn’t have happened.
“Your sister coming?”
Her head snapped up at the sound. Emily looked up into the gaze of the stranger from the diner.
“Um, no,” she said, even though it was sure to earn another disapproving stare from him.
He had kind eyes that didn’t care to hide what he was thinking, but there was something dark about him. Something that she didn’t want to mess with, and her inability to figure her shit out seemed to be messing with him. He moved beside her and leaned against the old car, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Like a person accustomed to people letting him do whatever suited him.
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, starting to get irritated with his questions.
“You have no plan?”
“What is wrong with you? You don’t even know me, yet you have to follow me around judging my actions. No, I don’t have a plan.” She was waving her arms around, like a lunatic, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. “This entire situation wasn’t planned. But you telling me that this wasn’t my smartest idea isn’t helping.”
“Hey, cool it. Being alone in a piece of shit, broken down car at a road-side truck stop at night isn’t the safest place to be.” He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. “Listen, I didn’t mean to make you mad. It’s just that we’re pulling out soon and I was watching you from the window.” He pointed over his shoulder to a bus painted black and silver, the words “Thorn Crest” painted on it. “I couldn’t drive off with you just standing here, you know, stranded.”
“You were watching me?” she asked, surprised that he really genuinely cared about what happened to her.
“I told you a truck stop at night wasn’t a safe place.” The grin that pulled at the corner of his lips was sinful. It caught her off guard, made her smile back in spite of herself.
“Sorry I freaked out at you. I’m a little out of my depth here. Having that pointed out hit a sore spot.”
“Understood. Which way are you headed?” he asked.
Emily pointed out across the southbound interstate, roughly in the direction of Marin’s.
“Us too,” he said. His hand scrubbed across his stubble, his eyes fixed in the direction she had pointed. “Want a lift?” he said after a moment.
“A ride? With you?”
“What are your other options?”
Emily held up her fingers and counted them off for him.
“One, locking myself in my car until I can get a hold of my sister. Two, not getting murdered.”
“I get it. It was just an idea.” He shrugged before pushing himself off of her car. “I’m not a murderer, and you wouldn’t be alone. If that helps. I’ve been on the road for hours. Months, actually. Having some company for a few hours might do both of us some good.”
She looked at him, at the concern around the edges of his eyes. It would have been easy to assume because of his hulking presence, the dark ink line creeping up his neck, his big black boots, that he was one of the people he was warning her about. But she couldn’t make herself believe that. It was hard to disguise the worry in his eyes, just like Shane could never disguise the monster in his.
He wasn’t pushing her to go with him. He wasn’t forcing her to make a choice. And maybe that’s why she wanted to go with him. Or maybe she wanted to make a decision that Shane would never have approved. Whatever the reason was, though, she did.
“Do you have room for my stuff?” she asked, pointing to the duffle bag that she had thrown her things into.
He lifted an eyebrow before smiling down at her. “Yeah, I think we can manage all that luggage.”
He grabbed her bag and Emily locked the car up before they headed across the parking lot. Under the glowing orange lights, she looked up at him, his hair brushing against his perfect jaw. He was an interesting man from what little she knew about him. So many contradictions in such short time.
“I’m Emily, in case you’re interested in knowing.”
“I’m Dylan.”
He didn’t seem to want to supply anything else, but curiosity got the best of her as usual.
“So where are you heading?”
“Houston, I think.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure, then New Orleans tomorrow.”
She glanced from him to the bus.
“What do you in Houston and New Orleans?”
“I’m a musician.”
“And your band is called Thorn Crest?”
“Ever heard of it?”
“Nope.” That wasn’t terribly surprising, though. If it wasn’t country, it wasn’t played in Shane’s house. “Are you any good?”
He smiled at her. “We have some fans, yeah.”
Realization dawned on her.
“So when you said we wouldn’t be alone, does that mean there’s going to be half a dozen rowdy guys on the bus too?”
A smile tugged at his lips again. “Nope. Just us and the driver. One of those luxuries that come with being the front man, I guess.”
“So everyone else?”
“Is on another bus, probably halfway to Houston by now.”
They came upon the open door and entered the darkened bus. It wasn’t glamorous like she figured a tour bus would be, but it didn’t smell like booze and vomit either, so she wasn’t complaining. The front section held a bunch of amps and cases. Beyond that were the living quarters, with a table and kitchen area in the middle of the bus, and in the back a space for a queen sized bed. It was clear that Dylan spent many hours in this space, a temporary home. The clutter of a person trying to pack a life into an 8 x 12-foot space.
Dylan set her bag down on the floor near the bed and threw himself into the booth on one side of the table. With not much other choice, she sat down across from him at the table and prepared for a long, awkward ride to San Antonio.
The bus rumbled to a start and the doors closed them in. Pulling out onto the highway, the bus pointed them deeper into Texas. As the bus got up to speed and the wheels below them started their steady rhythm, Emily began to fidget in the expanding silence until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So you’re the singer?”
“Yep.”
“You must love the freedom of it.”
“Freedom’s not something I lack. I do this because it’s all I know. All I’m good at.”
“You don’t seem too happy about it. You’re allowed to go wherever you want, whenever you choose.”
“And you aren’t?”
She didn’t answer. How could she explain to him that this was the first thing she’d ever done that was of her own choosing, without anyone’s hand guiding her. Forcing her. There were some things people would never understand.
“When I think of a rock star, you’re not really what I had in mind.”
He looked back up at her, eyebrow cocked. “I’m not too sure I want to know, but tell me what you had in mind.”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, you absolutely look like a rock star. What with the broody sexiness thing you got going on,” she said, her finger making a circle in the air around him. “But I always thought life would be a big party. No worries, living the dream and all that.”
“Well I guess you caught me at a weird time, then. A couple years ago that would have been the case.”
Getting him to talk was like pulling nails, but she was too curious to find out more about him. And the fact that no one was there reigning her in was a bonus too.
“But not now?”
“Not now.”
“I’m sorry. I talk too much. My dad and my boyfriend are always telling me that.”
“Ex-boyfriend. And why should you care if I think you talk too much? You don’t, by the way, but if I did, that’s my problem. Don’t censor yourself around me.” She was stunned into silence. No one ever stood up for her. Hell, with the exception of today, she never really even stood up for herself.
“You really don’t think I talk too much?”
“Don’t get me wrong, you talk a lot. But I don’t mind it.” Dylan settled back into the seat, his features relaxing and his long legs sticking out into the aisle.
“And you don’t think I ask too many questions?” She knew she was pushing her luck, but since he brought it up, she needed to know.
“I’m pretty used to getting asked tons of questions. The difference is that most people don’t take time to ask me the normal kinds of questions you are. They do a Google search on me and figure they have all the basics figured out so they can skip all that and jump straight into all the weird questions, like what do I wear to bed, or what’s my favorite sexual position.”
“What makes you think I don’t want to know that too?”
“Oh, I’m sure you do, but I appreciate the fact that you want to know the other stuff too. I’m not used to people asking this kind of stuff; I think I’ve lost my ability to have a real conversation with someone.”
“This isn’t an interview. You don’t have to answer me. I’m just curious.”
“No, I want to. Maybe we’re more alike that you realize. I might be living a dream here, but I’m not as free as you think. Some days it’s just as confining as a regular 9 to 5 job.” She very much doubted that, but she like watching him relax a little, liked letting him talk unprompted. “I get so sick of monitoring what I do and say. When we started out, we didn’t give a shit about what our managers tried to get us to do or what kind of reaction we got from people. We were in it for the ride, and it was great. But now we’ve been in it for so long and it’s more about the numbers and followers and not offending anyone. This is my livelihood and the only difference between being a singer and being homeless is what comes out of my mouth. One wrong move and we’re finished. I can’t even talk to you without trying to monitor what I’m saying so that it doesn’t come back to haunt me.”
“But you’re talking to me now.”
“Yeah.” He half smiled. “I’m finding it hard not to. Like in the diner. I couldn’t help but watch you, clearly oblivious to anything going on around you. I tried to mind my own business, but after a while, I realized that even when I was trying not to, I found myself watching you. So much so that I finally had to talk to you, just to see what it felt like to have all of your attention turned on me.”
Emily felt the full force of his attention now and she found it hard to keep steady under it. To not look away
“If you’re not happy, why don’t you make a change?”
“It’s not that simple. The band is in the middle of a recording contract that would be more hassle to break than its worth. But once that contract is up, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. The other guys will be pissed, but it’s time I looked out for myself. And anyways, we’ve peaked. Things are on the downhill and it’s only a matter of time before our label drops us. I know the guys don’t think so, but I can see the signs. It’s time to start moving on.” He turned his eyes from her and looked out the window. “Besides, you can’t have anything permanent when you’re never in one place for very long. Not too long ago that didn’t seem to matter, but it does now.”
“But sometimes you find yourself without anything permanent because you’ve been in one place for too long,” she said, the weight of the day settling onto her shoulders.
Night had settled outside the windows while they had been talking and the glow from a light above the kitchenette was throwing shadows across their side of the bus. Back home, the fallout of what she had done would be in the open, the damage done. Ahead of her, Marin and the prospect of starting all over again was waiting.
Sitting here in the semi-darkness, in the purgatory of her decision, right and wrong seemed to get muddled up. She pressed the heels of her hand against her eyes, holding back the regrets of her wasted years. The exhaustion of it all was heavy.
She felt the seat beside her dip, Dylan’s weight settling next to her. She turned to look up at his shadowed face and his worried expression.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to cry,” she said with a smile. “I think it just hit me how royally I screwed up my life.”
“But you’re not in that life anymore. You’re starting a new one where you’re a little wiser, a little tougher.”
“Starting over is hard,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the truth.
She felt Dylan’s hands on her shoulders, fingers gently rubbing away the weight she carried there. She forced her body to relax, to give in to his hands. She let his fingers travel up the column of her neck to knead into her scalp. She could feel his breath against her cheek and she opened her eyes to see him watching her.
She recognized the interest she saw there and maybe if she’d been someone else, he would have moved in, kissed her. But he wasn’t doing that. He wasn’t pushing her to do anything, just waiting for her to choose.
She warmed under his touch and his hungry eyes. It was an easy decision to make. Emily leaned in, her lips brushing against his. With her hands on his arms, she pushed herself closer and flicked her tongue against his bottom lip, seeking entrance.
Dylan’s fingers laced into her hair, his mouth on hers. In that instant, a need started burning, echoed in his actions. She couldn’t get close enough, his arms moving down to her waist, molding her against him. The taste of him, hot and needy, had the thoughts in her head evaporating, leaving only what she was feeling for him. In this moment, he was the only one who understood what she needed.
Her hands tunneled through his hair and she brushed away the niggling thoughts that evoked. The ones that told her this was too new. She was never to take these kinds of liberties during sex with Shane. But she didn’t want to think of him right now. She wanted to surrender herself to the feeling of Dylan’s callous-fingered hands inching their way along the bare skin under her shirt. The feeling of him pulling her out of the booth without so much as an inch of space between their bodies. The feeling of the cool air kissing her skin as her shirt hit the floor.
Her hands balled into the front of his shirt and, just because she could, pulled it over his head. His hands were at the clasp of her bra, and in seconds it joined her shirt, his mouth on hers again.
Dylan’s lips moved down her neck and across her shoulder, his lips making a perfect trail along her skin. His hands palmed her breasts, her nipples beading against his warm touch. His lips and hands continued their worship of her body. And that’s how she felt: worshiped, sexy, worthy. He touched every part of her like he wanted to know it. When he ducked down onto his knees, hands at the button of her jeans and lips on her stomach, Emily’s heartrate tripped. She could only stand there, hands buried in his hair, while he licked and kissed. She was so far beyond her comfort zone, but the way he was making her feel was amazing. There was no way she was letting herself feel awkward enough to care that never before had anyone made her feel adored. She was too turned on to make him stop.
After her pants were long gone, Dylan put his hands on her hips, moving her back the few steps to the edge of the bed. She sat and moved back to the middle, watching him discard the rest of his clothes, watching him stalk after her. His eyes were unwavering on hers, possessed and lust filled. He climbed until he was settled completely over her, the thick ridge of his erection pressing against her thigh.
His perfect body rocked against hers, teasing her. She allowed her hands to trace up his arms, over the colored ink and thick muscles. She allowed herself a freedom with him that she was never allowed with anyone else. In her touch and in her words, she felt liberated. Maybe it was the moment or maybe it was the man, but whatever it was she was going to take full advantage.
Emily raised her leg, pressing her foot against his lower back and bringing him closer. He smiled down at her.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
The words came out thick, playful. They weren’t meant to embarrass, and it took Emily a second to interpret that. But when his hand slipped under her, raising her hips to meet his, she fully understood their intention.
His other hand reached between them and positioned his cock at her entrance. The tip entered her and pulled back over again until he was coated with her wet heat. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, her nails pressing into his shoulder, Dylan pushed into her fully.
She ground out a groan when his hips were flush against her thighs. Her hands pressed against his waist, holding him there until her body had a chance to get used to him. He didn’t demand, didn’t take. He gave, though. It was a welcome change. Emily stretched up and kissed his throat, then rolled her hips against him.
He pulled back and started to move. It was fluid and steady; his exhales and quiet grunts filled her ears, her senses. It made her feel possessed, urgent. She liked how sure he was of his movements. She liked how his eyes had strayed down to her chest to follow the movement of her breasts with every thrust of his hips.
Dylan bent, his lips covering hers while his hands covered her breasts. He squeezed gently while his mouth sucked at her neck, before he slid his hand along her ribs, her hip, her ass, pulling her leg up over him. She opened herself up to him, her hips rising to meet his as their pace became frantic.
“Tell me what you want. What do you like?”
She didn’t know what she liked, only that she liked this. “Faster?” she whispered.
He braced his arm beside her head and his hips moved with more purpose. His other hand gripped behind her knee tightly. Emily could feel that elusive sensation dancing around the edges of her senses. Her body was coiling tightly underneath him and it gathered power with each of his strokes. He let go of her leg and braced himself with both arms, hands balled into the sheets.
Her nails pressed into his sweat-slicked back, his teeth bared against her shoulder. Her orgasm rippled through her body, tensing her underneath him and tightening her sheath around his erection. The rumbles of a groan vibrated against her shoulder, Dylan’s hoarse cry of relief echoing her own.
His arms buckled and he lay atop of her, both spent and breathing heavily. Slowly, he caught his breath and lazily pulled from her, pressing a kiss to the marks he had bit into her shoulder before rolling to her side.
She wasn’t sure what to expect afterwards, but he pulled her in close to him, her body molding to his again.
“I guess I should apologize.” He said against the shell of her ear. “But I really did have your best intentions in mind when I asked if you wanted a ride.”
“Turns out having them ignored wasn’t such a bad thing.”
“Yeah? Well in that case I might have to ignore those intentions again before San Antonio,” Dylan said, his hands wandering their way down her body again.
The remaining hours before they arrived in San Antonio were spent in bed with Dylan, the words and sex coming easily to them now. And when the bus pulled to a stop outside of her sister’s place, she felt like a whole new woman.
She had left her old life behind and there wasn’t an ounce of sadness left in her. Whatever had sprung up when she dropped everything that morning had been washed away in Dylan’s bed. She could start her life with a clean slate and a clear head.
*****
18 Months Later
The sun was still high in the sky when Emily drove home from work and she smiled at her reflection in the rear view mirror. There wasn’t much better than a perfect, Texas sunny day. She loved living here, loved that it was so different from Colorado. Her life resembled nothing that it once was, and all the work it took to get there was worth it.
The first thing she had done after arriving at Marin’s, once the fact had sunk in that she had made it and she was safe, was to get rid of anything that was part of her old life. Anything that was Shane’s. She hadn’t brought much, so she made quick work of trashing almost everything in her possession. Emily didn’t regret it, and hadn’t looked back. And she figured Shane had done the same because a year and a half later, she still hadn’t heard from him.
The weeks had flown by after Emily settled into Marin’s house. Her sister was just as happy to have her there as she was to be there. Family filled a void in both of them. The weeks turned into months and the disappointment of the life she left behind began to fade. She felt in control of her life for the first time.
Even with everything going on, she spent more time than she ever admitted thinking about her night of freedom all those months ago. She figured it was only natural to fixate on the first person to show her kindness in so long, but the gentleness of Dylan’s touch and the way he allowed her the space to choose was as clear to her now as it was then.
She didn’t mind so much when the memories flooded back at night, when the house was quiet and her mind would travel over every touch and every press of his body against hers. It was during the day, doing the dishes or even in a room full of friends, when something he had told her would pop into her head and cause a stirring in her. A mundane detail that would resurface and bring a smile to her lips.
There was rarely any time to dwell, though. Those long, summer days after she moved were filled with endless errands and interviews, planning and creating a life separate from anyone else. With each day that passed, each decision she made, she felt empowered, stronger. She even managed to get a decent job with her little experience.
It wasn’t until she had been living there for a few months that she found out she was pregnant. She instinctively felt that the baby was Dylan’s, and hoped she was right. Carrying a reminder of Shane would be a clutching kind of torture, a way for him to exert his stranglehold on her from afar. Feeling the baby was Dylan’s made the shock of the news easier to swallow. She looked back on her night spent with Dylan as a fast tracked lesson in independence, their baby will be a reminder of her freewill.
In the space of a few months, she went from a barren existence to a full life. Family, friends, and as the warm, Texas spring rains filled the skies, her little, baby boy. They all filled her house and she welcomed them with open arms.
Coming home from work to the house she and her sister shared, a house bustling with activity and filled with family, was the greatest feeling she’d ever known. Emily pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, grabbing her purse and heading into the house.
“Marin?” she called out, passing through the living room into the kitchen.
“We’re out here,” she called from the back deck.
Emily deposited her purse on the table and headed back. The long, summer days were coming to an end, soon to be replaced by the milder evenings of fall. Emily and Marin loved sitting out here at the end of the day, playing with Jack and enjoying the sun filtering through the trees.
Emily stepped out on the warm deck with bare feet. She took a spot next to Jack on the blanket that he sat on, playing with his toys. She bent and kissed his head, earning a toothless smile from him.
From her patio chair, Marin pointed to the table beside her.
“Someone stopped in to see you today,” she said, indicating the note on the table.
Emily picked it up and unfolded the paper. Then glanced back up to her sister, sure it had to be a mistake.
“Dylan was here?”
“He was. He asked to see you, and when I told him you were at work, he left that for you.” I studied the hurried scrawl, just his name and phone number. “He said he would be in town for a while and that if you didn’t call him, he was going to stop back here before he left.”
“Did he see Jack?” Panic laced her voice. As much as she would love for him to meet his son, she didn’t want him finding out that way.
Marin nodded. “I was holding him when I answered the door. I didn’t say anything and he didn’t seem to pick up on anything. You’re going to tell him, though, right?”
“Yes.” Emily turned her face to the note in her hands. She would. Of course she would. She never kept the knowledge of their son from him for any malicious reason. She loved having a solid, real connection to their night together, to him. But that didn’t mean he did. And until she had this solid proof in her hands, she wasn’t entirely sure if she would have stood out in his memory.
But since he did remember her after a year and a half and wanted to see her, she would tell him. It would be up to him whether he wanted Jack to be a part of his life, but at least he would have a choice in it.
*****
That night, after Jack had been tucked into bed and she had given Marin the baby monitor, Emily grabbed her phone and dialed Dylan’s number. He answered right away, and within a few minutes she was out the door on her way to see him.
He was staying at a hotel downtown and the drive there gave her time to think about all the reasons why he would want to see her. She had been so preoccupied thinking about the reason she wanted to see him that she hadn’t considered why he had shown up after all this time.
Her mind scanned all the likely reasons he would want to see her, none of which was conducive to the news she had to tell him. She hoped for Jack’s sake he wouldn’t turn her away. But when the most likely reason for wanting to see her was because he wanted to try for a quick hookup, that outcome wasn’t too likely.
Pulling up to the hotel, she was still conflicted, but she couldn’t postpone what was to come. And underneath it all, she was excited to see him again. With each step, the anxiety climbed, nervous and excited in equal measures, until she was standing outside his door.
Emily had barely pulled her hand away from knocking when the door was pulled open. She hadn’t prepared herself for what it would be like facing him again after all this time, her breath coming out shaky until she could get a grip on herself. She could see now, being faced with Dylan again after so long, all the features that he and their son shared. A pang of guilt raced through her.
“Hey,” Dylan said, running a hand through his hair as his eyes took her in. His hair was shorter than it was when she saw him last, but he was every bit as dark and tempting. “Thanks for coming down here. I would have come to you, but I figured it would be a bit quieter here, you know?”
He stepped back and she entered, her arm brushing against him. She tried to pretend she couldn’t feel his pull on her and kept moving into the room.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked from behind her.
She turned to him. “Sure. Whatever you’re having,” she said, buying herself a little more time.
While Dylan fixed their drinks, she looked around his room. It was huge, with a kitchenette and the bedroom in a separate room. Emily had never been in a hotel room like that before. While she looked around, she noticed his luggage. Bags and cases sat piled in the corner of the room, way more than just a few days’ worth of clothes. Once again, her curiosity got the better of her.
“How long are you staying in San Antonio?”
He didn’t turn to look at her, but he stopped pouring, his shoulders tensing. “Not too sure yet. It depends on a few things.”
“So not Houston, and then maybe New Orleans?”
He finished pouring their drinks. He turned, carrying them over to her, his amazing smile touching his lips. “No, not anymore. Our final tour wrapped up a couple months ago.”
“So what brought you here, then?” she asked, getting the sense that she wasn’t getting the whole story.
“I came here to see you.” His blue eyes were holding hers.
“Just me?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, that’s great and I’m glad you looked me up, but there has to be a real reason.”
Dylan moved to the sitting area, placing their drinks on the table before turning back to her. He came to a stop in front of her, close enough that she could have touched him. He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, thinking over his next words before speaking them.
“I can’t get you out of my head, Emily. I wanted to see you again.”
His voice was so sincere. The words were pulled from him like he hadn’t intended to be so straightforward. She knew he was taking a chance laying it out like that, but regardless of what he thought he wanted, she knew her news would change that.
She had taken their hook up for what it was. It was a convenient situation, a vulnerable moment, a rebellious choice. Not a promise of anything more. But now, because of Jack, there was more and she could only imagine how that would change how he felt. There was no point in being keeping it a secret any longer.
“Me too, Dylan. I’ve thought about you more than I probably should admit.” She read the relief in his face, but she kept going. “But there’s more to it than just that one night.” She licked her lips and took a breath. “A couple months after our night together, I found out I was pregnant. We have a son.”
When he didn’t say anything, didn’t move at all, Emily’s racing heart picked up. She opened her mouth to say more, but she wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Finally, a long few moments later, with his eyes still concentrated on hers, he spoke.
“You’re sure it was that night?” His voice was quiet, cautious.
“Positive. Shane barely touched me anymore, and I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
Dylan nodded and seemed to consider her words. His eyes were still trained on her own, but she couldn’t read what was behind them.
“Do you have a picture?”
She nodded and pulled out her phone, letting him scroll through the pictures. His eyes flicked between the screen and her. He moved through them slowly, studying each one for several seconds before passing on to the next. When he got to the end, he handed the phone back to her, his face still calm and unreadable.
“Well shit,” he said, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I was expecting.”
The jackrabbit beat to her heart sped up at his words. Facing him and the honest truth of how she felt, Emily didn’t want him to turn her out. She didn’t want him to be hurt by her keeping this from him.
“I know. I’m sorry. This is a terrible way to find out and I didn’t do it to hurt you. Neither of us signed on for this when we hooked up.” She still couldn’t read his face and not knowing how he felt was killing her. “Just because I was happy with the news didn’t mean I expected you to be. Maybe I was wrong in that decision, but I can’t change it now.”
Dylan’s forehead creased, his lips pulling down. “I came back for you. This is unexpected, but it doesn’t change that.”
Of all the things she was expecting him to say, this wasn’t one of them. She couldn’t wrap her mind around his words, at how obviously he stated what he wanted.
“It should. I mean, we barely knew each other. This is a big deal.”
“It is, but you can’t say we barely know each other. I told you more about myself that night that I had to anyone else in years.”
She looked away from him. Not because he was wrong. Just the opposite. She had made a true connection with him that night and had been trying to deny that it meant anything other than an infatuation. But standing in front of him, hearing him tell her that he felt it too was a lot to take in.
She felt him move to her side, his hand reaching out to skim over her arm. The fire that lit up her skin was intense and she shot her eyes back to his.
“I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of us being together. That’s why I came here. That’s why I stopped at your house before I even checked into the hotel. And why I’ve set up meetings here all week for a position at a production company. If you’re not ready to give this a shot, I won’t push you, but you got to know I want this.”
Between his words and his hand on her skin, fingers kneading at her shoulders like they had all those months ago, she had no hope at slowing the beat in her chest. Despite the implications of what he was saying, she wasn’t nervous. She knew he was being honest with her and she’d be lying if it wasn’t what she wanted too. To have him a part of her and her son’s lives, to give a relationship a shot.
Strong hands moved lower and his breath brushed the shell of her ear. He gave her a slow moment to pull away, to say something. Instead she leaned into his touch. She loved how his grip on her tightened and how his lips were a feather touch on her skin. Anticipation ignited her.
This was new, sweeter than the times they shared all those months ago. He brushed his lips against hers, just a touch. Then again. He groaned against her lips as her hands slid over his body, up his ribs and wrapping around his neck. They began an easy rhythm, their bodies acting on instinct. Dylan’s hands pulled her against him in time with her kisses and her eagerness pooled between her legs.
Dylan’s lips moved down her neck, licking and tasting her skin.
“Did you ever think about me fucking you?” he breathed out between kisses, fingers tugging up her shirt.
“I did. Many times,” she answered with no hesitation, closing her eyes and remembering the countless nights she laid in bed imagining him doing just what he was now.
Her shirt hit the floor and his hands were pulling at her pants next. As the rest of her clothes hit the floor, his hands cupped her breasts, his warm mouth exploring her newly revealed skin.
She pressed herself against him, getting closer but not close enough. Dylan’s hand slid between them and her body tightened and quivered in anticipation of his touch where she needed it most. When his fingers passed over her slick, wet skin she couldn’t hold back the groan of relief she felt. She rocked into his hand, his thumb a caress over her clit. His fingers slid along her slit and she inhaled a quick breath.
Dylan, his tension echoing her own, withdrew his fingers and pushed his jeans off his hips. In a rush, he kicked them off and came back to her. She could feel his erection brushing against her mound and she wanted to feel more of him against her. All of him against her. She skimmed her hands over warm muscle, pulling his shirt over his head.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, his arms going to her hips. It was different than when they were together last time; there was a sureness in her now that she never felt before. But she felt the same freedom with him as she had their first time together, and she knew now that it had nothing to do with the moment or the deprivation she had run from. The novelty of being allowed to choose for herself had worn off by now. She fully knew that it had everything to do with this man.
He walked them backwards, through the open doorway until they reached the bed. Dylan sat and she followed him, straddling him. She looked over his body, the ridges of muscle, the designs inked in his skin. She took her time, working her way up to his eyes and when she met them, the raw unguarded desire there had her bending at the waist to pull his lip between her teeth.
While her teeth nibbled at his lips and jaw, she reached between them, grasping his thick cock in her hand. Her breath was shaky, impatient and needy. This scenario had played out in her head countless times. Positioning him at her entrance, she slowly sank down.
Her body filled with him, enveloped him, and his soft groan turned needy beneath her when she started rocking against him. His hands grasped her hips and they moved in fast rhythm, an urgency in both of them. With each pull forward, Emily ground her clit against him, fire seeping out from her center, lacing through her veins.
He moved with her, a wild frenzied rush. His clear, blue eyes watched her every move, and she liked the way he looked at her. Emily drove against him, unable to get enough.
The tension building in her wasn’t gradual. Like a match being struck, it was on top of her quickly, stilting her movements, making them rough. She planted her hands on Dylan’s chest, her fingers grappling to hold onto him, to hold onto the moment.
Below her, Dylan’s grip tightened on her. A ragged groan tore from him and he was right there with her. Her walls tightened around him and she cried out. As his fingers dug into her skin, his own release overtaking him, she saw the relief in his face.
She felt it too. Not just a sexual release, but a connection that had been restored. Emily let herself collapse against his chest, in no hurry to leave this moment. With Dylan’s hands caressing her back, she breathed a contented sigh.
“I’m happy you came back.”
“I am too. I knew I would, driving away I knew I couldn’t go without seeing you again. I hadn’t talked or laughed or connected with anyone like I did with you, not ever. But I got to tell you, I was nervous as hell to come back. I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, or if you were with someone else. That would have killed me, but I still had to take the chance to see you.”
“I’m glad you did. Even if things didn’t turn out quite like you expected.”
“Are you kidding? I love kids. Always hoped I’d have one someday.” Even without looking at him, she could hear the truth in his words. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Really?” she asked, pulling back to look at him. “You’re not such a tough rocker as you pretend to be, are you?”
“Oh, I can be tough when I need to be. But yeah, I’d much rather be myself with you. No amount of fame would change that.”
Emily settled back against his chest, Dylan’s arms wrapped tightly around her. Neither were in a hurry to leave what they had found. In the quiet of the night they shared themselves, their stories, and hopes for a life with Jack. They enjoyed the calm before they would need to get dressed and head out of the hotel. Heading towards her home and their son. Heading toward their future.
THE END