After forty-eight hours, fourteen minutes, and God knew how many seconds with Dylan, Sera was ready to kill him. First problem, he was always there. Every time she turned around, there he was, taking up space, sucking all the air out of the room with his hotness and intensity. Absently she touched her lips, then licked them, the ghost of his lips still on hers. Butterflies floated low in her belly and she groaned into her pillow.

And as if his kisses weren't enough, Dylan apparently didn't own a workout shirt. And of course there was the slight problem of his always cleaning up after her. She wasn't a two-year-old. She could clean up after herself. Maybe she didn't always like to, but she was a grown woman and quite capable of doing so.

And he was so stiff. More of a jailer than roommate. And then of course she could sense his silent judgment when she put on Real Housewives, so she just escaped to her room if she wanted to watch mindless television. And it was her freaking house, damn it.

He barely ever cracked a smile, and if he did, it was a wry twist of his lips. Sometimes she wondered if he'd been replaced by an android version of a really hot, sexy guy. Maybe she should check under the hood just to be sure that he wasn't a robot.

She fell back against the pillows and waited for the shower to go on. This proximity shit was a problem. And she knew he was deliberately trying to make her insane. Every now and again, she caught him just staring at her. In that completely-focused-man-who-wants-a-woman kind of stare. But of course that wasn't true. He was on her mother's payroll. So he was just trying to dick with her. Well, two could play at that game. If there was one person in the world who knew how to drive a man crazy, it was Taj. Sera leaned over to her bedside table, picked up her phone. Quickly, she tapped out:

“SOS need your mad men skills.”

Taj responded immediately.

“I already gave you the blowjob tutorial, what else do you need?”

She was typing before Taj even finished.

“It's a long story, but can you come over this morning? I need a plan on

how to drive Dylan crazy.”

Her friend responded right away.

“Of course, sugarplum. I can help with that. But you realize that this is

remedial stuff. Any friend of mine should already know this

information. First things first, walk around naked.”

Sera laughed. Leave it to Taj to make things obvious.

“Just come over, I'll explain when you get here.”

Once Dylan was out of the shower and working on his laptop, Sera dressed and snagged a bagel for breakfast. "I'm having Taj come over."

He glanced up from his laptop and narrowed his gaze on her. "You don't need my permission to have people over, this is your house. I just need to know if you plan on going anywhere, and I need to know where it is and how we're planning on getting there."

"So you're not my jailer, just my stalker?"

His wide grin stunned her. "Something like that."

When Taj arrived, Dylan retreated to the porch. But not before Taj gave him a broad grin. "Hey, Delicious D. I'm glad to see you're sticking around. Sera can use a little fun in her life. And you seem like just the guy to give her some laughs."

Dylan barked out a laugh. "What did you just call me?" He didn't laugh like that for Sera.

"Delicious D." She winked. "Because you are just so yummy."

Dylan shook his head as he made his escape. Sera snorted and dragged Taj back towards the bedroom.

"Please don't encourage him. He's already a giant pain in my ass." When they were in the safety of her room, Sera closed the door then turned on her best friend. "Okay Taj, I'm going to need everything in the arsenal now."

Taj's dark brows rose and she laid out on the bed. "Okay, sounds serious. What's the problem? Is that hot piece of ass out there not laying it right, because we can have a chat right now."

Sera covered her eyes with her hands. "Jesus Christ, Taj, if you even knew right now."

She considered telling Taj the truth, but she didn't want to take the risk her mother wasn't playing around. "I…" Her voice trailed off as she tried to phrase things just right. "Okay. Uh…so here's the deal. I'm, let's just say, woefully out of practice. And I need your expertise."

Taj blinked at her. "I don't get it. I mean, you and Hottie Mchomeboy seemed to figure it out on Friday. What's to need?"

Damn. How did she put this. "No. Of course. Because, obviously he's gorgeous. But, uh, I have no idea how to drive him crazy, seduce him. You know…" She prayed Taj was going to get the hint because she couldn't tell her everything.

"Say no more. You want seduction, you came to the right place. I've been making boys crazy since the ta-tas grew in. First things first, you need to own your sexual being. No more frumpy t-shirts and loose elastic shorts. Secondly, you're going to start wearing makeup around the house. Go with the no-makeup makeup look."

"Okay. I can do that. What else?"

"It's basic stuff, honestly. Guys are easy. It's a brush here. Not too much. A hint of side-boob there. Just brush up against him accidentally. Also, you'll want to make sure you start spraying your perfume everywhere. Or burning a candle that smells like your shampoo. He won't be able to get enough of your scent."

Sera smirked. More like he wouldn't be able to get away from her. It was just what she needed. As Taj devised a diabolical plan, Sera knew she'd gone to the right person for help. Dylan wouldn't know what hit him.

* * *

Dylan paced along the porch, all the while intermittently checking on Sera inside while he made calls. She and Taj had been holed up for over an hour. He had a feeling he didn't want to know what they were up to.

First order of business. He pulled up the security camera footage from Sera's building of the day the senator had intercepted Sera's mail. He wanted to eliminate the security guard as a suspect. The guy had had to pass security clearance, so he doubted he was a problem, but it never hurt to be extra careful.

Alejandro Arruga. Son of an ambassador, he'd been in the States as a child. When his father's post was over, the family returned to Brazil, but their oldest son, having fallen in love with this country, came back for college, blah blah blah.

Nothing in the guy's past stood out. He had no affiliations to any groups. And aside from his nearly unholy attachment to football, he had no real vices. He'd had a steady girlfriend for three years, no children, very little debt. The guy was clean.

So if he was clean, then Dylan's job just got tougher. He pulled up security footage of that day. There was no postmark, so it hadn't gone through the mail. That meant someone had walked it in.

After an hour of watching mindless footage, he finally found what he was looking for. A courier had dropped it off just after ten that day, after the mail had already gone upstairs. Jotting down the name of the courier company, he continued watching the footage, only pausing when he saw the footage of Sera and Taj.

Sera was wearing a black, form-fitting skirt and a silk blouse, showing just enough cleavage for his blood to heat. Purely objectively, Sera was beautiful. Beautiful, smooth, dark skin, wide, dark eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. All her features maybe shouldn't have worked together, but on her it did.

When he kissed her, it was like he'd hooked up a live wire to his dick. The women he dated were cool, aloof. Like Symone. Maybe it's time to change that. No. It was definitely not time to change that. It was time to get back to normalcy. Back to his life in New York.

Despite the spike of lust in his blood, he dragged his attention back to the screen in front of him. But as he tried to concentrate, the laughter from inside distracted him. Sera’s laugh was bold and rich and completely unabashed.

The soft ping alerted him to a notification. Mom's birthday.

Shit. It was already afternoon on the East Coast. He never forgot his mother’s birthday. Not once not since they were kids. He'd always been the one to organize everyone to get together for a group gift months in advance. Okay, he and Delilah. Being so close in age, they both often vied for the oldest child spot. It had been no different this time around. They were sending her and their dad on a safari. It was one of the few things neither of them had done before. These days it was hard thinking up new ideas for birthday gifts.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he made the call. She answered with a smile in her voice and Dylan immediately relaxed. His mother had a way of doing that to him. To all of them, really. When his father had told her he was getting married again, he and Derek had been happy about it. His mother had been a surrogate mother for years before their own mother left. But especially in the two years after she took off.

She was the one who picked them up from school, checked their homework, made sure their birthdays were extra special. And no one delivered a verbal ass-whooping like she did. Of all the siblings, every single one of them would rather deal with their father when they were in trouble than have to deal with their mother. She never yelled. Instead she had this way of lowering her voice to just above icy, then calmly asking if they'd lost their minds.

Dylan hadn't been in trouble nearly as much as his brother had. Derek was a magnet for it. The only problem Dylan ever had was with girls. His parents had a strict no-girls-in-the-house-when-an-adult-wasn't-home policy combined with a no-girls-in-the-bedrooms-ever policy. At the time he'd thought it was a stupid rule. And there was a chance he'd get to third base. So he'd ignored it.

His mother had come home early from the clinic to find him and Theresa Jones playing a very advanced game of doctor in his room. The look she'd given him could have frozen Satan's balls. But she hadn't yelled.

Very calmly she told him how disappointed she was in him. She'd then turned her ire toward Theresa and told her that since she'd chosen to disrespect their house, she wasn't ever invited to come back. And then she'd grounded him and given him penance, helping out in her clinic and at his school during sex-ed week. He was still embarrassed about that one.

"You never miss a call."

"Of course not, Mom. It's your birthday. Did you enjoy your gift?"

"I've wanted to go on safari my whole life. You know it was too much. I'm not sure—"

Before she could even finish, he interjected, "Before you think you can tell me you're too busy to travel, Delilah is already handling the details. You leave at the end of the month."

"I suppose this is what you'll do to me when I'm too old to fight back. Just dictate my life for me?"

"Who says you're not there now?"

She muttered something that sounded like a curse and he grinned. "Language, Mom."

"You recognize you're not too old for me to give you up for adoption, right?"

"Yeah, but who would have me? Seriously, though. Happy birthday, Mom. I'm not sure if I say this enough, but, I…uh, I wouldn't be here without you. So I'm really grateful."

She was silent for a beat. "Boy, if you make me ruin your sister's makeup job, I'll come to California and give you hell for it."

He smiled. "Yeah, I know."

After a minute she asked softly, "You okay, baby? Everything okay with your new assignment?"

His gaze flickered toward Sera's room.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"You're protecting Anita Justice's daughter?"

He cleared his throat, suddenly wary. He needed to be careful with his mother; she had a way of ferreting out information. When he and Derek were younger, they were sure she was part Jedi. "Uh, yeah. No big deal really. It's pretty straightforward." The hell it was. "Honestly, Mom. This is basic stuff. I'm just assessing threats, keeping her out of trouble, that sort of thing. Easy."

"If you say so. I'm proud of you regardless. You should be proud of yourself for saving the senator's life."

"I know that."

"Uh-huh, if you say so. You've been torturing yourself for months over that night."

Damn it. "No I haven't. I wish you guys would see that I'm fine." And just leave it the fuck alone. "I'm good. I promise. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

She sighed. "Okay, okay, I get it. When you're ready to talk, I'm here. But in the meantime, why don't you tell me about her daughter. Is she pretty?"

Shit. Double whammy. She was a fucking Jedi. He went ahead and answered the questions before she could ask them in an effort to get her to talk about something else. "Yes, she's pretty. No, she's not my type. She's a bit frivolous and fashion-loving. Frothy, really. And she's not physically my type. Not to mention I'm supposed to be taking care of her, not trying to date her." That one was as much for himself as it was for his mother. Keep telling yourself that, buddy.

"Fine. You don't have to tell me about her, your tone speaks volumes."

There was no winning with her and he had to laugh. "You would have made one hell of an interrogator."

"Damn right. I taught you everything you know. I love you, baby. Your father is lurking around the door. I think he wants to pilfer some food before the party. Why don't you distract him for me?"

"Sure. But Mom?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

"Not nearly as much as I love you. Now here's your father."

"Hey D2, how is the land of sunshine and bikini babes?"

"Sunny, full of half-naked women," he muttered.

"Then you must be in seventh heaven." His father chuckled.

He slid another glance over to Sera's room. Not exactly. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something."

His father dropped his voice and the acoustics on the line changed. He'd probably gone into the office. "What's going on?"

"It's a long story, but I decided to look up my mother."

His father was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was tight. "Oh." Shit. He could read a myriad of things into that one word.

"Look, I just feel like—"

"Son, she's your mother. You should have a relationship."

Dylan released the breath he held. "Okay. One question. Did you know she had a daughter?"

Another pause. "Yeah, I knew."

What the fuck? "Excuse me?"

"I kept tabs on your mother for years. I sent photos and updates on you and Derek."

"What the fuck, Dad? We didn't want you to do that."

There were few moments in his adult life where he was reminded that he would always be his father's child. This was one of them. "First of all, watch your tone. Second, she's your mother. She walked out on you and I wasn't going to force you to see her, but I did update her on your life."

The emotion welling up nearly choked him. "I have a mother. It's her birthday today."

His father sighed. "So you see why I didn't update you on your mother's life?"

"You didn't think telling Derek and I we have another sister would be useful information to have?"

"And how would you have received the news? Would you have been happy about it? Wanted to see her? Call her?"

"That's not the point. At the very least it would have saved me from being blindsided." He sat forward.

"Dylan, that's not fair."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Last I communicated with her, I sent her a notice of your graduation from Quantico."

"She doesn't have any right to know that."

"Well, we'll have to agree to disagree on that. Are you going to see her?"

"That woman who gave birth to me?" He didn't even try to keep the derision out of his voice.

"No, your sister, the woman who doesn't have anything to do with your hurt feelings. It's not her fault she was born."

What he wanted to say was that he'd get his sister dearest a care package to deal with the abandonment, but his father knew him well. She didn't have anything to do with this shit. It wasn't her fault his mother wasn't very good at her job or had a habit of running out on it. "I'll deal with her when I'm ready."

"Dylan, I know you're angry, but carrying that around does you no good. You've got a lot going on right now. Maybe it's time to shed some of the past. It'll do you a world of good."

If Dylan stayed on the phone much longer he'd likely say something he couldn't take back, so instead he said, "I have to go Dad, I'll check in in a few days."

His father sighed. "Dylan, you can't just do everything yourself. At some point, you're going to need to lean on someone. Talk to someone. You don't have to be the strong one all the time."

"Who says? Later, Dad."

* * *

There was a chance Sera hadn't thought this whole plan through. She glanced down at her nearly see-through tank top and barely covering booty shorts and wondered what the hell she was doing. You're fighting fire with fire. He’d been driving her crazy. Well, payback was a bitch.

With a deep breath she yanked open her bedroom door and strolled into the living room, laptop in tow. Dylan didn't even look up. Well that's frustrating.

Summoning her inner Taj, Sera joined him on the couch, making it a point to sit a little too close to him.

He looked up and did a double take. "Uh, Sera, what's up?"

She could feel his intensely focused gaze on her body and she did her best to ignore him. Instead, she made herself comfortable sitting with her laptop on her lap. "I just had some work to do, and I'm tired of sitting in my room."

His eyes tracked over her body. "Look, I know it's rough having someone in your space. And I'm sorry about that. It's not my intention for you to lock yourself in your room." His gaze slid over her again. "But what the fuck are you wearing?"

She had to bite her cheek to keep from grinning. "Clothes. This place doesn't have air conditioning; it's hot in here."

He licked his lips. "Uh-huh. Don't you have like a sundress or whatever they call them? Something, uh, loose-fitting and maybe not see-through?"

He was making a valiant effort to not stare directly at her boobs, but his eyes kept flickering to home base. Sera shrugged. "Well, it's not like you've never seen boobs before. And besides, you nearly got a mouthful the night we met."

Since she still wasn't looking at him, she wasn't sure of his expression, but she could feel the heat from his body.

Dylan cleared his throat. "Okay, I get it. You think if you walk around here in skimpy clothes you can make me uncomfortable enough to leave. Here's the thing sweetheart, you're only feeding into every wet dream I've ever had. So carry on."

She rounded her eyes. "Dylan, I'm hot. I'm sorry if my boobs make you uncomfortable, but you'll need to deal with them. They live here. And while we're at it, I'll be watching Bravo and VH1 tonight. There is a whole Love and Hip Hop marathon I've been meaning to catch up on."

A slight frown marred that beautiful face of his. "Oh, okay, I thought maybe I'd watch the basketball game this afternoon. But you know what, Love and Hip Hop sounds awesome."

Sera smiled sweetly. "Oh, you know what? You don't have to miss your game. You can watch it in the guest room. I know the thirteen-inch is small, but it does the trick, and you can see all your alioops or whatever they're called. The remote to access the cable is in the drawer next to the bed. Or at least I think it's there. No one's used it in a while. Maybe it's dusty."

He blinked at her twice, then laughed, the booming sound reverberating off her walls. "Okay. So your sudden hot flashes and allergy to covering your ass, and the assertion over the television, all this means I'm getting on your nerves?"

Wide eyes blinked up at him. "I would never dream of saying that to a guest. But then, you're not a guest, are you?"

Dylan raised a brow and smirked. He put his laptop down on the coffee table and scooted closer to her. Sera swallowed hard and forced herself not to shift away from his heat. He was close. Too close. The faint hint of cologne mixed with his fresh, crisp scent made her mind fuzzier than she'd planned. Clear head, Sera. Don't get sucked into the Jedi mind tricks.

His voice was low and hypnotic when he spoke and she nearly groaned. God, why did he have to sound so fucking good?

"Sera, these little games you’re playing…" His voice trailed off as he tucked back a strand of her hair behind her ear.

When he angled his head, she sat perfectly still, her libido and her brain at war with each other. The sound of his voice was enough to make her body soft, willing, pliable…wet.

Then he nuzzled into her neck. Shit, what had she been thinking about again? She would not moan, she would not moan, she would not—hell, there it was—that low, throaty sound.

But he wasn't kissing her neck. Not exactly. More like using his nose and his breath to drive her freaking insane. "You shouldn't play with fire, Sera. You might scorch that soft skin of yours, and that would be a crying shame." Then, just like that, he released her. "If there's something you need me to do, then tell me. Don't play games. Don't tease. Don't try to fuck with me. You're out of your league."

Then he stood fluidly, picked up his laptop, and headed to the back porch. Still shaky, all she could do was lean back against the couch. Well, that certainly didn't go according to plan.