“Excuse me?” she managed as Dylan’s hand rested lightly on her arm.
Bridgette straightened and smoothed down her dress as if preparing to step out on a catwalk.
“You knew he was sick. You kept him from me during his last moments.” The woman’s voice vibrated with anger as she moved closer to Zoey.
“Step back, Stepmonster.” Bridgette had better not mess with her.
Instead, she edged closer, sparing a quick glance for Dylan. “I could have comforted him”—her voice cracked slightly, and Zoey wagered it was a practiced move—“yet your family kept him from me, just as you forced him to divorce me.”
A burst of laughter escaped Zoey. “Right.” She yanked her arm free from Dylan’s hold.
Zoey was shorter than Bridgette by almost a full foot, thanks to the extremely high stripper heels Bridgette was currently wearing. She had dyed her hair a bright blonde since the last time Zoey had seen a picture of her. It made her look younger than her almost thirty-five years. Until you saw her face.
“You and your sister manipulated Jean ever since the first day of our marriage.” Her voice rose.
Zoey laughed again. “That’s rich. Oh, but I forgot, so are you, after stealing all of my father’s wealth. Tell me, how did it feel knowing that you ruined two young girls’ lives?”
“I loved your father!” Bridgette screamed.
“You loved my father’s money.” Zoey hadn’t been prepared for the slap, but as her cheek burst with the sting, it took her less than a second to explode.
If it hadn’t been for the strong hands pulling her back, she would have annihilated the woman. She’d been in plenty of sports fights before and had a reputation for being able to hold her own. Taking on the one skinny bitch who had ruined her family’s life had been a dream of Zoey’s for years.
“Easy, tiger.” Dylan’s voice broke through the red haze flooding her mind. “I think we’d better go.” He started tugging her toward the door.
“Yes, that’s right, control your temper.” Bridgette’s smile told Zoey that this was the reason the woman had come today. To get a rise out of her. “I’d hate for anything else to happen to you. You’re so fragile during this time, after all.”
Taking a deep breath, Zoey stilled. “You’re too late to get anything else from my father.” She felt Dylan’s hands relax on her arms. “He changed his will. He told me so himself.”
Bridgette’s eyes narrowed as she waited. “You’re lying.”
Zoey moved a step closer. “Why don’t you crawl back into the hole you slithered out of? There’s nothing else my family has for you.”
She turned to leave but was quickly pushed aside by Dylan, who caught Bridgette as she flew toward Zoey. He forced her back a step, keeping his body between them.
“Easy,” Dylan warned. “Assault is a crime.”
Zoey took a step back. “What’s wrong? Did I hit a little too close to home? It’s always been about money, and you won’t get another dime from us.” She sidestepped another blow, took Dylan’s hand, and walked out.
Sitting in the car, it took a few minutes for her heart rate to return to normal as Dylan drove back to the hotel.
“Wow,” she finally said. “What a bitch.”
He glanced over at her. “Are you okay?”
She leaned her head back against the headrest and touched her still-burning cheek. She’d had worse, and she knew her cheek wasn’t what stung the most. It was knowing that her father had chosen to be with that woman instead of them. “I need a drink.”
She heard Dylan chuckle. “You’re in the right place, then. What place doesn’t have a drinks special?”
“What do you say we go out, drink some drinks, lose some money on slots, and then find a place to dance?” She glanced over at him. “I have a strong urge to see you naked.” She felt her body heating.
He smiled quickly. “It’s your party.”
“I want to call my family and fill them in. And get a shower, and a change of clothes.” She looked down at the dark slacks and shirt she’d worn to the funeral home. She wanted to wear something bright and cheery, something that would prove to the world that she was alive.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dylan almost swallowed his tongue when Zoey stepped out of her room an hour later wearing a short, bright-blue dress. He’d seen those legs in shorts for the past month and a half but never in a sexy dress and high cream-colored heels.
“Wow,” he said as she did a quick turn. The skirt of the dress flared out and rose slightly higher, causing his pulse to jump even more.
“Like it?” she asked. “Elle forced me to pack it. Just in case I wanted a night out.”
“God bless Elle,” he said honestly as he wrapped his arms around her. She reached up on her toes and placed a kiss on his lips.
“Now, take me out and show me a good time.” She pulled out of his arms, and he watched her walk to the door and wondered how quickly the night could be over.
They first hit the Bank, a nightclub in the hotel, for drinks and dancing. The place was packed with beautiful people, drinking and dancing to the music that was pumping through the massive place.
Dylan wasn’t a dancer, but he figured he’d suck it up and do his best to have Zoey bump and grind up next to him in the tight dress she was wearing.
The dance floor was full, and several times he had to help guide her away from being knocked over. No matter what kind of relationship their father had been in, his respect for women had been strong and had carried over to his sons.
“Wow, that was fun.” She sat down on the soft red cushions of a sofa and fanned her hands in front of her face. “I haven’t danced like that since we went to Cabo.”
“We?” He sat next to her and waved a waitress over to take their drink orders.
“Sure.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Me and my sisters.”
When the waitress made it over to them finally, he decided they needed food more than drinks. “How about we head out to grab something to eat?”
“Burgers!” She jumped up. “I’m in the mood for some red meat.” She laughed and tugged him up.
“Sorry,” he told the waitress and handed her a few bucks for her time as Zoey pulled him toward the door.
They ended up at a greasy burger place off the Strip, where Zoey swore that they had the best french fries in Vegas.
When their plates came, he had to admit she was probably right. They had fries and malts and talked until he glanced down at his watch and realized it was a quarter past three in the morning.
Steering them back toward the hotel, he realized that he had never enjoyed his time with anyone else before quite like being with Zoey. He’d spent plenty of time dancing and clubbing, but most of those times he’d dreaded it and had counted the minutes until he could leave. Tonight, they had easily spent more than two hours without him even thinking about the time.
As they rode the elevator up to their suite, she moved closer to him, running her hand over his button-up shirt.
“Do you know, when I saw you that first day, when you got out of your truck, I felt my heart skip a beat. Like it’s doing now.” Her low, soft voice did things to his system.
“I wanted you too.” He ran his hands up her sides. “I want you,” he corrected himself.
“Make me feel alive,” she whispered before her lips crushed his. She pinned him against the elevator wall as her mouth moved over his.
When he heard the doors slide open, he glanced up and walked them out of the elevator with their lips still fused.
Without them stopping once, the door was open, and he’d made his way into his bedroom and removed his shoes. Then laid her down on the bed and covered her with his body.
She fumbled with each of his buttons, then pulled his shirt from his shoulders. Slightly digging her nails into his skin, she moaned as she explored him.
Her skirt hiked up as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Using his hands, he brushe
d his fingertips up her legs and marveled at the smooth, soft skin of her inner thighs.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered next to her ear. “So perfect.” He trailed his mouth down her neck and felt her arch for him.
Her long dark hair fell around her shoulders and pooled on the pillow. He brushed it aside, then slipped the thin strap of her dress down her shoulder until it fell away, exposing her breast.
“Zoey.” When she looked up at him, he knew he’d never wanted like this before. Never desired a woman more than he did now. She was more than he’d ever imagined he’d get in life.
“Dylan”—she shook his shoulders and brought him back down to her—“touch me everywhere.” Her fingers went to the buckle of his slacks as their mouths joined again.
He helped her wiggle his slacks off his hips and legs, then settled between her legs to kiss her and run his fingertips over every inch of her perfect skin.
Once the blue dress was a pool on the floor, he looked down at the sexy pair of black underwear she wore and wished more than anything for the image to be embedded in his memory.
“I’ll remember you looking just like this for the rest of my life,” he said.
She smiled up at him and raised her hands toward him. “We still have some clothes on.” She glanced at his boxers, then ran a finger across the line of her panties.
“My god.” The words that escaped him caused a smile to spread across her face.
“Do you like it when I do . . . this?” She dipped a finger under the panties.
“Yes.” The word burst from him, and he felt himself growing harder.
“More?” she asked with a smile. Not trusting his voice, he nodded. “Your turn.”
He quickly jerked them down his legs, causing her to chuckle.
“That’ll work,” she purred, then moved her hands over the silk again. “I’m thinking that you like watching me go slower, though.”
He nodded again as his eyes moved with her hands and fingers. When she nudged her panties off her hips, he watched them slide down her legs and felt a little of his control slide as well. She was more perfect than he’d imagined.
“Dylan, come here.” She spread her legs, and he moved quickly again. He’d grabbed a condom from his nightstand and set it on the bed beside them. But he knew there was more of her he wanted to enjoy, had to enjoy, first.
Settling beside her instead of between her spread legs, he covered her complaints by kissing her until he felt her relax again. His hands moved over her as he took his time learning her curves and enjoying her softness.
When he cupped her sex, she arched up and made a sensual sound that had him smiling against her lips.
“God, I love touching you,” he said, bending down and taking her nipple into his mouth. He brushed his tongue across the peak and had her moaning again. Her hands moved into his hair, holding him as she cried out with pleasure.
“Dylan, please,” she begged.
When he slid a finger into her, she cried out once more, then turned slightly toward him and draped her leg over his hip, as if to drive him deeper. When she reached for him, it was his turn to groan.
“Two can play at the torture game.” She smiled over at him.
“Witch,” he said, then moved his hand and watched her eyes close as her fingers stilled. “I’m in control now.”
He thought she’d relax back; instead her eyes flew open, and she flipped up to straddle him. Her hands cuffed his wrists and pulled them above his head.
“Who’s in charge?” she challenged with a smile.
“You are,” he said, his eyes going to her perfect breasts.
“I thought so.” She leaned down to tease him. “Now, are you going to give me what I want?”
Since she was rubbing her hips against him, he would have given her anything at that moment.
“Yes,” he finally groaned out after she nibbled on his chest and used her teeth on his nipple. “God,” he growled. “Condom.” He waved toward the bed.
He watched her open the foil with her teeth; then she leaned forward as she slid the rubber on him. When she slid down on him next, he arched up, his fingers digging into her soft hips, holding her still for just a moment. Holding on to the feeling as long as he could.
Then she started to move, and he realized he was doomed. He’d never experienced anything as amazing as Zoey before, and he doubted he ever would again.
He let her take as much control as he could stand but knew that she was building them up too quickly. When he felt he couldn’t take any more torture, he flipped their positions. He hiked her legs up against his chest and began to move inside of her.
Her short nails scraped along his skin as she held on to him, her eyes searching his as he told her exactly what she was doing to him. As he kissed her, he felt her building and knew that he wanted to see how perfect she was during orgasm.
Leaning up slightly, he ran a fingertip over her swollen clit and watched in amazement as she burst around him. Her teeth trapped her bottom lip as she squealed with her release, her nails digging into his sides now.
The pain was minimal and actually aided in his own release. He held on to her as he felt himself spiraling out of control and then even after as he felt his heart and breathing return to normal.
“Wow.” She sighed, her breath floating over his heated skin.
“Yeah.” He nodded and tucked his nose into the crook of her neck, enjoying the smell of her hair.
“Can we do that again soon?” She ran her hands over his back.
“Sleep first, then . . .” He laughed.
“Yes, sleep first.” She yawned. “But soon.”
He nodded and rolled until she was tucked into his arms. “I hope you’re a snuggler.”
“I am,” she said softly. “Dylan?”
“Hm?” He already felt himself drifting off.
“Thank you for today,” she said as he floated to sleep.
He woke to the sounds of a toilet flushing and reached for Zoey. When he didn’t feel her, he opened his eyes to see her standing in the doorway, smiling at him.
“Morning.” She came to give him a kiss. The fact that she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt depressed him instantly.
“Going somewhere?”
“I ordered breakfast for us. It should be here soon. I didn’t want to answer the door in my birthday suit.” She grinned.
“It would be the best tip the delivery guy had ever had.” He pulled her down on his chest and kissed her. “I’m sure we have time . . .”
Just then there was a knock on the outer door, causing him to groan.
“I called earlier. I’m starving.” She jumped up. “Come on, put something on. Then, after . . .” She leaned over and lightly tweaked his nipple. Then sprinted for the door when he reached for her.
“You are in so much trouble,” he called to her as she exited the room, her laughter trailing behind her.
He was surprised at how much food she’d ordered until the smell of waffles and coffee hit him. He was hungry.
Once they’d depleted the tray, he wrapped his arms around her.
“What are the plans for today?” he asked.
She gripped him tighter. “Shower sex, then meet with the lawyer, then . . .” She shrugged. “We never did lose money at the slots.”
“Sounds good.” He started to walk her toward the bathroom.
“Can you arrange for us to go home tomorrow?” she asked as they moved into the bathroom.
“Sure,” he said. “Worried about the camp?”
“It’s opening month,” she pointed out and then groaned softly when he pulled her T-shirt over her head.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, and as he tugged her jeans down her hips, he noticed she wasn’t wearing any panties either.
“I was in a hurry,” she teased.
“So am I.” He removed his jeans and pinned her against the bathroom wall. “Shower after,” he muttered between kisses.
When he sli
d into her this time, it was like returning home. Being with someone when the connection was as strong as the one he felt for her sent him into a feeling of pure heaven.
After, they showered together, and he took her again as the water rained down over them. She disappeared into her own bathroom to dress and get ready to meet the lawyer.
Walking over, he shut the door to his own suite to call his brothers. Owen picked up on the second ring. “How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good. How are things there?” Dylan listened to his brother rustle around, no doubt getting someplace he could talk without being heard, and then the line grew quieter.
“The same. Ryan freaked out when she found out that you’d taken Zoey to Vegas. Liam claims she practically attacked him.”
“What did she do?” He sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.
“Apparently, she followed him on his rounds last night and threatened him. We have to get a handle on this woman.” He could hear the frustration in his brother’s voice.
“Yeah.” He glanced at the closed door and thought of how to tell his brother the new developments. “About that . . .” He closed his eyes in frustration. “Zoey already knows everything.”
“What?” Suddenly, a loud noise echoed over the line, and he figured that Owen had dropped the phone. He heard a muffled “Shit.”
“Do the others know?” Owen asked when he came back.
“I . . . don’t know.” He hadn’t talked to Zoey about it. “I’m not sure. We’re heading over to the lawyer’s soon. I’ll find out.”
“Yeah.” The stress from Owen almost shot through the phone like lightning.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. She knows and honestly wants to help us find Dad.”
“You’re a fool,” Owen said. “She’s played you, bro.”
“I don’t think so.” He’d mulled the situation over for what felt like forever. “I really believe that Zoey doesn’t know anything about Dad, or the money.”
“If she’s so honest with you, find out what she does know. Ask her if the camp received any big investors.”
“Yeah”—he heard Zoey moving around in the other room—“I have to go.” Taking a few deep, cleansing breaths, he stepped out of the room.
Summer Nights Page 15