by S. L. Scott
From the Inside Out—Dylan
First Edition
Copyright © S. L. Scott 2014
The right of S.L. Scott to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-940071-22-0
Cover design: Melissa Ringuette
Cover image: rilueda
Interior Design: Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
SIX YEARS BEFORE SCORNED…
ON A PERSONAL NOTE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
To everyone who has supported this endeavor. Thank you.
IT HAPPENED SO fast. I’m here, putting my heart fully on the line and hoping not to be rejected. I kiss her. I can’t resist the temptation any longer. It’s the only way I can show Jules how much I love her. Then she kisses me back.
The blow to my chest sends me backward and she’s ripped from my arms. Austin. I’d forgotten about Austin. I don’t care about him. Jules is all that matters, so when I see Austin’s driver is manhandling her, I run to save her. I’m blindsided by a punch to the face, which knocks me to the side, stumbling to find balance.
Despite the pain, I only think of Jules. I need her. I need to help her, to make Austin understand. I straighten back up, seeing I’m going to have to get through him to get to her. “Austin, I love her,” I warn.
Through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, he yells, “You barely know her!”
This won’t be easy. “She loves me.”
His laugh is humorless, more threatening. “You’re deranged, Dylan!”
When Jules cries out, “Pleas—” I punch him. I take the cheap shot when he’s not looking, but it’s the only shot I’ve got. “Dylan! Noooo!”
Austin falls to his knees, but I know he’s strong and will fight back. I want him to. This situation coming to blows once and for all.
He shouts, “Get in the car, Jules.” Without warning he lands on his feet and lands a punch square on my cheek sending me to the ground. The blood comes, my lip busted as I debate if I should fight, feeling this battle was lost almost four years ago when I walked out on Jules. When I look up, Austin continues, his anger taking over. “Fight. Damn it!”
I lay back, my face pulsing with pain from being pummeled as the rain falls down. The throbbing reminds me of the devastation I caused. I’m deserving of everything I get, karma finally collecting her dues.
The grey clouds above calm my insides as they blow over the city. Austin yells something, but my mind is on Jules. She’s gotten into the car of her own free will. The battle is over. Austin wins. “Get up,” he yells.
When I look over at him, I say, “Finally.”
“What are you talking about?”
She should have a good man in her life. Austin is good and can give her the beautiful life she deserves. “Treat her well.”
“What are you talking about?” He asks with confusion on his face. “Fuck this!”
He’s gone, the car door slammed shut. The loud sound knocks me to my senses. This is it. For real. I’ve lost her…
I sit up, then I’m on my feet running after the car. I can’t give up. I can’t live without Jules. The black car is gone before I reach it, escaping down a side street. Austin may be the better choice on paper, but I’m the better man for her. I just need the chance to show her. I run faster, but I stop in the middle of the alley when the love of my life leaves with the wrong man. Leaning against the stone building, I try to catch my breath.
My mind is crazed with ideas. I know where he lives. I can go after her. Hailing a cab, I get in as soon as one pulls over. “Where to, Mac?”
“97…” The fact that she went on her own accord stops me from finishing the sentence. I pause.
The driver asks, “Hey, where to?”
I decide not to give Austin’s address and tell him mine instead.
I’m tired of inventing excuses to make myself feel better for what I did. I just need to face the reality of the situation. I fucked up. I threw away the best part of me… No amount of excuses or apologies is gonna change the fact that I hurt Jules and I can’t seem to make it right. I’ve tried, but I finally realize there has to be two willing participants. She knows how I feel about her. I can keep barging into her life, but that just messes up the happiness she’s found. I’ll always love her and that means I need to put her happiness before mine… for once. It’s always been about me and what I wanted. She deserves happiness, even if it’s not with me.
When I get home, I lay back on the couch with an icepack on my face, thinking about the day and our kiss. Closing my eyes, I accept that the kiss would be the last time I ever feel her lips against mine again. She was giving me a final kiss goodbye.
A POUNDING ON my door wakes me from my sleep. I don’t remember falling asleep on the couch. The knocking continues, which wipes away any dreams I might have been having. I hurry to stop the noise that’s reverberating in my head. One large bolt and a sliding lock undone and it’s open. Jules is standing there.
Small.
Wet.
Crying.
Head dropped. I hope not in shame. I’m the one who should be ashamed.
“I, uh,” she starts, looking around, over her shoulder. I can tell she’s thinking about leaving.
I quickly offer, “Come in.” I wait, praying she will. Slowly she steps into my place. I’ve never made the mistake of calling it a home. It’s not. She’s not living here, so it’s not home for me. “I’m sorry,” I say, staring at her. Her head is down again as the words escape me, desperate to get out, to be heard. “And you’re here and all wet.”
Shivering, she says, “It’s storming outside. I didn’t have an umbrella.” She finally looks me in the eyes, though I spot the fear. I hate the thought that she might be scared of me.
“I’ll put your clothes in the dryer and get you something to wear.”
Gentle fingers wrap around my wrist and she stops me. “Dylan, your face, it’s bruised and swollen. Are you alright?”
I’d forgotten about my face, dismissing the dull ache in comparison to the heartache I’m feeling. Touching my right cheek, it doesn’t feel as swollen as it was earlier, though it’s tender. Jules was ripped away, stolen from me as Austin hit me. I let him, taking each blow, hoping it would knock some sense into me. Looking at her now, I don’t know if it did. I just want to hold her, touch her, and wipe her tears away. I don’t. “I’m fine.”
Staring into my eyes, some other emotion takes hold of her. She leans up and kisses my neck. My hands go to her waist, holding her, never wanting to let go. My eyes drop closed, and she whispers, “I’m sorry, too.”
Surprised, I open my eyes again and look down at her, daring to seek the truth in her hazels. It’s there. Everything I felt in the kiss is prevalent in her eyes now. I kiss her again, cupping her face, and leaning down to show her h
ow she should be kissed. Every time. With feeling and love, passion and conviction.
Her arms encircle my neck and she lifts up on her tiptoes, deepening the connection. I prolong it, worried that if I stop and we talk that she’ll leave me and my heart can’t take that. So I kiss her over and over, my hands loving the feel of her body against mine, enjoying every kiss she’s willing to give whether this be the first of many or the last of them all. I’ll take what I can get.
She backs away, worn down and says, “I can’t do this anymore.”
“What?” A stupid reply, but I’m frightened of what she’ll say next.
“I can’t fight this anymore. The world is conspiring against me and when I try to gain some perspective, I realize how lucky I am to have these two men in my life, wanting me.” Her back is turned toward me, but hearing about Austin still feels like a punch to the gut. I used to be the only man in her life, the only one who mattered.
I fucked everything up.
“What happened with Austin?” I sit on the arm of the couch, watching her as she walks to the windows and gazes out into the darkness. With a glance to the clock, it’s just past midnight, though it feels like everything just happened minutes ago.
She turns, and looks at me. “I won’t go into details, but I’m here, so you should know that we broke up. It would be disrespectful to be here if we hadn’t.”
My heart expands with hope upon hearing that, but I try to keep my expression neutral for her sake.
With her arms crossed over her chest, she asks, “Why should I trust you, Dylan?”
“Because you know we’re more than just a few years of the past to recollect one day. We’re more than that. We’re each other’s destiny.” I walk closer with caution.
“You throw around the word destiny so easily, like it’s true and there’s nothing else to believe in. You’re so sure now,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. “But I was sure then and it didn’t matter. You changed the course we were on, altering everything forever, Dylan. Can’t you see that? Can you see how this is all on you? I’ve hurt a man I love tonight because you decided to take fate back into your own hands and alter our lives again.”
“It was selfish, but I realized what I had—”
“I knew what we had!” she shouts, angry. Looking down at the rug beneath her feet, she takes a deep breath. “I didn’t need to fuck someone else to appreciate what I had.” Her eyes dart to mine, burning with intensity. “What do you want from me? I need to know and I need your complete honesty. You didn’t give it to me then, but I need it now.”
“I want a second chance.” My response is too fast and I’m afraid it doesn’t come off as sincere.
“That’s asking so much of me. What if I do give you that and then you realize I’m not the one again? I’m not what you want? What if you meet someone else and want to be with her? These are the things you can’t predict. I had four years to think about it, to figure out that no matter how solid the surface is, it doesn’t mean the foundation isn’t crumbling beneath.”
“I understand you might not be able to forgive me or offer me that second chance. It almost makes more sense for you not to.” I sigh, feeling hopeless. “But I need you to know that I wasn’t living the high life in those years. I worked a lot and very hard. I didn’t go out much. I don’t have any real friends. I have a lot of co-workers and acquaintances. I didn’t date much, despite what you might think. I couldn’t.” I walk even closer, touching the back of her hand with my finger, rubbing softly, lightly. “I fucked everything up, Jules, but I didn’t realize that my life would remain fucked because you weren’t in it. I let my pride tell me to leave you be. I’d hurt you enough until I saw you again that night at the restaurant. That was destiny—”
She rolls her eyes. “That means I’m destined to be with half of Manhattan—”
“Please hear me out,” I say, taking her hand and she lets me, looking down at them joined. “I know this sounds crazy but I knew that day was coming. I’d been dreading March 14th for months. The date haunts me, a constant reminder of my biggest failure. It was a few days prior and I worked until eight-thirty, then Jacqueline came by and invited me to a late dinner. I was happy to avoid my place. If I’d gone straight home that night, I would have been drinking until I passed out like I had every day so far that week. Turns out, I did it anyway. You consume me. You have for years, but then when I saw you, I just… I couldn’t believe it. You’d been on my mind and then there you were all beautiful and, God, better than I remember.” I kiss her hand. “Destiny brought us back together and I’m willing to put myself out there for you. I need you to know that I love you. I never stopped. I hurt you, but I love you, Jules. I’m sorry for the pain I caused.” I run my hands through my hair knowing I’m word-vomiting, but still do it. “I’m even sorry for Austin getting fucked over in this mess, but I’m not sorry for pursuing you. I’m not sorry for loving you. I’m not sorry for handing my heart over for you to crush this time. I’m not sorry that you’re standing here right now because I made you think twice about me and I made you question what you want for you. I’m sorry for so many other things, but I’m just not fucking sorry at all for any of that.”
She kisses me. Her lips are on mine and I close my eyes as my mind catches up with my body. My hands take hold of her hips and I tilt my head down and over for a better angle. Our tongues meet as do our hips. Finally, she’s kissing me and I’m kissing her. The shock wears off quickly and I let passion take over just as she has. Her hands smooth over my chest and around my back, down my sides, not stopping, the pace, practically frantic. She’s pushing me backward and I know where this is going, realizing what we’re about to do. I grab her hands and pull back enough to look her in the eyes. “Jules?”
“Shhh, please. I need this. I need you right now. We were always so good this way, Dylan. Please.”
Her voice is so soft, pleading and as I look deep within her eyes, I can see she really does want this, but to give her an out that she might need, I say, “This won’t fix things.”
A small smile crosses her face. “I know… and I want it anyway.”
“It may complicate things even more,” I rationalize.
“I don’t care.” Lifting up, she touches my face, bringing me closer and kissing me again.
I shouldn’t.
I know I shouldn’t.
How can I not though?
How can I resist her?
I can’t. I’m too weak to say no. “Not here.” I pull her down the hall and into my bedroom.
She shoves me against the back of the door and tugs at my shirt. “I want this off.”
I toss it into the darkness of the room while her hands are on my belt, frenzied. It’s quickly undone and on the floor. Pulling her shirt and bra off, she bares her breasts, and presses them against my chest. I want to feel them, grab them, squeeze them, lick them, bite them, fuck them like I used to. My memories have definitely not done them justice. They are way more perfect than I remember. I touch her shoulders as she kisses down my neck, lowering her body as she lowers her pants.
She stands before me a woman now, not the girl I so stupidly left. Little differences are noticeable, but only because I knew her body so well back then. The freckle three inches below her left breast is still prominent against her smooth skin. Her hips have more curves, but her body has less softness to it. She’s tone, thin but more womanly. She’s more confident, not hiding in any way from me. It’s dark in here but our eyes have adjusted quickly. I can see all of her and she doesn’t mind. I think she wants me to see her this way. I think she likes showing me the person she is now.
She’s perfect.
Jules pulls me to the bed, a look of desire on her face. Crawling across the bed first, she tempts me with her ass as she moves. Stretched across my mattress, she calls me to her. Willingly, I go, crawling over her body, hovering, purposely not touching, teasing instead.
Her voice is just a whisper, no smile att
ached when she asks, “How many women have you slept with since we were together?” Her hand comes up, caressing my neck.
I didn’t expect that question. I don’t know why, but I didn’t. “Um, five.”
“I’ve been with two.”
“I’m aware.” I’m also aware that she’s been with Austin more recently. I know he had a trip to China for most of that time, so I’m assuming it’s been close to a month or longer since they were last together. I’m in no position to judge.“I don’t have a condom,” she says. A hint that it’s up to me.
I don’t know if I do either. Shit. I should check my stash. I reach over and look in the top drawer of the nightstand. “I’ve got one.” As I maneuver back over, I ask, “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” she replies. “I want you.”
“I want you too, baby.”
HE ROLLS THE condom down his erection, my eyes following his hands. “God, you’re sexy,” I say, then gasp¸ clasping my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. I close my eyes to help block out the embarrassment that colors me and focus on the silence that surrounds us.
“You think I’m sexy?” Dylan asks. I can hear the smugness in his tone as his fingers slide between my thighs, not wasting any time. My eyes pop open, making me forget why I’m beet red and causing me to squirm when he touches me there. I’m wet. He smiles. “You want me?”
“You doubt that?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
Tonight, his words have been honest, so open with me. “Kiss me, Dylan.”
He does while his fingers beginning to work their magic. But his lips disappear as he slides down my body, leaving a wet trail of kisses in his wake. From between my legs, he glances up at me. I watch and feel as his mouth picks up where his fingers left off. He always knew exactly how to please me. My back arches into the mattress and I lose myself in the ecstasy.
It all feels too good, engulfing me. With bated breath, I say, “This is fucking torture.” The best, most erotic kind, but torture because all I want is him inside of me again. “Dylan, I’ve masturbated to memories of us. Please. I need to feel you inside of me.”