“Nope. I’m at the office. I have a meeting in about fifteen minutes with one of my clients.”
I glanced at the clock. “It’s not even seven thirty. You have a meeting this early? Wow.”
“That’s the construction world for you.”
I made out the squeak of his chair and tried to picture him sitting in his office, working over his drawings and meeting with clients. I’d seen him in a couple of suits and a T-shirt, but in his office, I imagined him wearing a button-down and slacks, leaning back in his chair with his hands tucked behind his head—calm, casual, professional Dean. He had such a natural charm that I suspected even on the business front, his clients enjoyed speaking with him.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
I grinned. “Better now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I like the sound of your voice in the morning.”
“I like yours, too. I could get used to more of it,” he said, and a flutter passed through my belly. “I figured that since I didn’t get the morning with you last weekend, I’d have to steal a little bit of it as soon as I could.”
“Sounds like a good compromise.”
“I agree. Though I’d prefer you here, with me.”
“Thinking of seducing me in your office, hmm?”
Dean paused for a second, but when he spoke again, his voice sounded lighter. “I’d seduce you anywhere, naughty girl—but right now, I’d just love to see you.”
I bit my tongue, overwhelmed in such a good way. We were just playing around...but then there was this. The sweetness and affection, and the fact that I enjoyed the easy conversation as much as the times we spent in bed. A flicker of remembrance from our last encounter crossed my mind, followed by a moment of worry.
Were we moving too fast?
My gauge was off after all my years of casual dating and brief relationships since Charlie, but I couldn’t deny I liked him, or this intensity building between us.
It seemed like Dean did, too.
“So, what’s on the slate for you today?” he asked.
“Oh...a couple of client meetings, paperwork. You?”
“This meeting, then I’m heading out to Sausalito with Dylan most of the afternoon. He’s on full duty today.”
“You’re bossing him around?”
Dean chuckled. “He doesn’t take too much bossing. We’ve got a job in the works that I’ve given him full rein on. Today he’s collecting site data and dimensions. I’ll sit back and watch him feel it out, while he gets the hang of everything. He’s been doing great save for that shyness of his.”
“He’s not like his older brother at all, I take it.”
“Definitely not. Or Evan or Luka, either. I’m not sure where he got it. Oh, hang on one second...”
I heard the sound of Dean setting down the phone, and in the distance, a door opening and people talking. When Dean came back, his voice was serious.
“I’m sorry, my client is here already. Can I call you later tonight?”
“Of course. Nice talking to you.”
“Mmm. Same here,” he said. “Have a great day, okay?”
“I will. You, too.”
When we hung up, I sat a little taller in my seat.
It might have been early, but somehow, talking to Dean before work made the day feel like it was off to a rather nice start.
I turned the radio up, an uncontrollable grin crossing my face as I continued my drive.
* * *
I spent a few nights over the next two weeks at Selby and Alex’s place, part of it to keep myself occupied and the rest an effort to cheer Selby up. Fields had hit the big time with a contract for a famous drummer of a well-known band, but Alex’s late work hours over her summer break left her an excess of open-ended time. I could only pound out a tune on my piano or run so many times in my spare hours, which made hanging with my best friend to keep her spirits up an easy alternative.
“What’s up with you and Dean?”
Selby had walked back into the living room from the kitchen holding a bowl of popcorn slathered with butter. We had a movie tradition, whether it be a weekend or the Thursday night we now spent on her couch, about to watch another chick flick that Alex would roll his eyes at if he were around.
I hit Play on the remote and adjusted the volume while she scooted in beside me. We’d seen Legally Blonde numerous times; chatting through most of it wouldn’t faze either of us. “We’re talking a lot. He’s designing that big house in Berkeley and it’s taking a lot of time, plus he’s guiding his brother on another project in Sausalito.”
“Oh yeah, I think I remember Alex mentioning something about Dean’s brother on the team. I knew about the Berkeley project, though. Alex said there’s a chance Fields will be part of it when they start the build, but who knows? They have a lot on their plate already.” She scooped a handful of popcorn into her mouth and chewed it with a partial frown.
“You know he loves you,” I said.
“I know.”
“It’s great for him to set the groundwork. It’ll work out better in the long run.”
“Yes, I know that, too. I just wish we had more time together.”
I reached for the popcorn as the intro credits began. “You will.”
“So, are you two going to see each other soon?”
“Dean and me?”
“Uh, yeah. Master and servant and all that,” Selby teased.
I jostled her leg, and she smirked. “We will. We’re supposed to get together next weekend. He said he’d call in a couple of days to arrange it.” In truth, we’d talked three times that week and had shared an hour chat the night before. But Dean hadn’t hinted at the next assignment yet.
“That seems like a big pause in your dating.”
I shrugged, chewing more popcorn. “No, we’re talking. Plus, it’s early. We needed to cool it a tad, I think.”
“Really?”
“I think so. It’s not supposed to be serious, remember?”
Selby wrinkled her nose. “Did you work out whatever had you pissed last time?”
I peeked in her direction. Beyond the contorted and uncomfortable smile on her face, she cared. I loved that about her, just like I knew she appreciated my support when she talked about all the normal things she wanted that somehow never struck me. But it was still hard sometimes—especially when it was clear she was worrying, and wondering what was happening between Dean and me.
I was still trying to figure that out myself.
“Sort of. We’re adjusting. It’s nothing bad, it’s...different,” I said.
“This sounds like my cue to tell you I adore you but I don’t want to know.”
“Yep.”
We giggled, then turned our attention back to Elle Woods and her hilarious endeavors.
* * *
“How are you?”
I lay back on my couch, showered and relaxed after a stressful Monday followed by a five-mile run. Dean’s near purr through the phone served as instant relief. “I’m okay. Tired. How are you?”
“I’m doing well. My schedule is winding down, which is great. I worked all weekend.”
“All work and no play makes Dean a dull boy.”
He chuckled. “Ah, and you know how I like to play.”
I tucked an arm under my head. “I do.”
“How have I not seen you in two weeks? It’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re fine. I’ve been wrapped up at work with the fundraiser anyway. I’m glad it’s done.” Both Maddie and I had ended up the head contacts for our DV awareness fundraiser, and though it was for an amazing cause, merging the efforts of all eight of the regional women’s safety groups had proved challenging.
“Ye
ah, you seemed busy all weekend.”
“Sorry. I was on a mental treadmill. I barely touched my phone.”
“Not a problem. Hopefully we both have a calm week ahead, huh?”
I laughed. “No kidding. I love the event, but it’s exhausting.”
“But it’s a stupendous effort. Quite impressive. I read about it in the paper yesterday.”
“Did you?”
“Yep...drank my coffee reading about the side of you I don’t get to see. I love how dedicated you are to the work and your passion for the project. It showed in all the quotes they had from you.”
I blushed. The city paper had interviewed a few of us at WOFC during the fundraiser, as well as some of the main contacts for the other groups involved. I hadn’t read the article yet, though Maddie had hung it up on the break room wall.
“Well, thank you,” I said. “I’m glad we got some press on it again, even this many years in. I’m hoping it will help bring people out next year, too.”
“That would be good. It’s a great cause.”
“It is. But no more social work talk for the day. I’m beat. Let’s talk about houses. Beautiful houses in hills, all exquisitely designed by those sexy hands of yours.”
“Mmm. How about I talk about these hands over you instead?” he said.
“That’ll work.”
He laughed. “I must see you. Soon.”
“I’m yours,” I said. It came out playfully, but in the silence that followed, I think we both knew the implication.
“I like that. I like that phrase.”
My breathing grew heavier, but beyond that, both of us were quiet. In Dean’s shrewd way, I was sure he turned the words over and over in his head.
So did I.
“Will you be mine this weekend? Say, Saturday?”
I sank down in the cushions of my couch, tingles stirring in me and making me nervous all the same. “Yes.”
“How about you come here? Would you mind the drive?”
“Not at all. I’d love to see your place. What do you have in store?”
“First, I’m thinking I’d like the scent of you all over my bed.”
I savored the turn of his voice—rich and dark, beckoning me. I shoved away all the nerves from our last encounter, curiosity winning out. “Is that the assignment?”
“No, but it’s the first stage. I want you weak in the knees before the actual assignment occurs, and we’ll be going out for that.”
His undeniable growl sent my heart pounding like a frenetic bird in my chest. What was he plotting?
“This time, we’re going to go further out of your comfort zone.”
I brought my hand to my chest. Further out?
Could I go further?
“Are you open to that?”
“Will you elaborate?”
“Not yet,” he said. I ran my hands down my thighs, trying to calm the wonder. The worry. The excitement throttling through me. “I want you to be open-minded, to run free. Just the idea...it turns me on.”
This time, I let him hear my inhalation. “I’m feeling left out of this idea since you won’t share.”
“Are you? Well, here’s what I will say—I’ll need you in a skirt.”
“That’s easy.”
“And I’ll expect you to tell me everything you’re feeling, every step of the way. Promise me in advance.”
“I promise.”
“You’re so, so good.”
The line remained silent while I considered the possibilities, my neck and face growing hot.
“Will you tell me how you’re feeling now?” he asked.
“How do you think?” It was difficult not to play coy through the phone. “How do you feel?”
“Aroused again.”
“Again?”
“Uh-huh. I’m sorry, it’s not very romantic—but I admit I got off thinking of you this morning.”
I pushed my hand between my thighs. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done the same thing a dozen times in the last couple of weeks. “I think it’s hot.”
“Are you wet?”
I’d had men ask me this over the phone in the past and I’d rolled my eyes. With Dean, though—once again, I found myself taken over.
I knew the answer without needing to check, but my fingers found their way beneath my underwear to confirm.
“Very,” I said.
“Mmm.” The phone rustled on Dean’s end. “I’m not big on phone sex, you know.”
“No?”
“No. I’d rather be savoring you live, kissing your lips while you straddle my cock.”
That did me in. I pushed my fingers all the way in. “My God. Tell me more, please.”
“Despite how much I want to tell you everything I’m thinking of doing to you, and how hard I’ll fuck you on Saturday,” he said, his breath windy in my ear and the image making me clench around my fingers, “I’m going to get off the phone. I love knowing you’re all riled up, and that I get to leave you this way.”
“No,” I said. I shoved another finger in, not caring that he could probably make out the quaver of my voice.
“Yes. It’s true. You know what else I’d love?”
“What?” It was unreal how he made me feel. I glided my fingers back and forth, already aware of the orgasmic haze threatening to consume me.
Dean cleared his throat. “What I’d love, sexy, wanton woman, is to know how desperate this makes you—me hanging up, leaving you wanting more. Enough to maybe even touch yourself?” he said, obviously on to me. But he took a deliberate pause before he said, “So I’m going to go...but I expect that if it did happen, you’d text me when you come.”
Two minutes later, that was exactly what I did.
Chapter Twelve
The entire week was a blur.
I buried myself in paperwork and client check-ins at the office, and piano and frequent runs at home. I’d gone over to Selby’s one night and shared a couple of chatty lunches with Maddie as well. Still, my mind kept spinning over the possibilities with Dean. It had been long enough since I last saw him that an acute urge to indulge in all the wildness we shared gripped me—but at the same time, I was nervous after the rollercoaster of emotions I’d felt with him.
As if wishing to assuage me, Dean texted me each day that week. The messages started straightforward: good mornings and well wishes for a successful day at work. By the evening, we’d escalated into lengthy strands of sexting that left me wound up and eager for our upcoming date. We’d exchanged myriad fantasies in five days, and by the time I arrived at his house on Saturday night, I couldn’t wait to find out if anything we’d mentioned would be part of my assignment.
I parked in the driveway and turned off my car, my mouth agape. He’d mentioned he lived by the water, but the two-story sat on a coastal bluff, the surf crashing in rhythmic waves beyond it. The exterior had intricately carved mahogany doorways and floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows that appeared to run all the way around the house. The landscaping was breathtaking, the well-maintained grass surrounding two large trees and an enormous planter of flowers and vines that zigzagged up around one of the windows.
I walked to the entrance and took it all in, awestruck by the sound of the waves, the sun coming down like a fiery red backdrop over the ocean and the lighthouse towering on a neighboring bluff. Between the view and the property itself, Dean’s place was unbelievable, putting my tiny condo to shame.
When I knocked on Dean’s front door, he threw it open as if he’d hovered behind it in wait for me. “Maya.”
“Your house is—”
He didn’t let me finish. He hauled me into his chest, his body subduing the slight temperature drop here by the water and his mouth pressing on mine. His
tongue spread my lips, merging with mine in a furious tumble. Both of us gasped for air but were too consumed with our kiss. Dean’s hands roamed my sides, testing me, enveloping me in his strong hold, and when he curved his palms around my ass, he tucked his fingers into the underside of my cheeks and clutched me tighter. The swell beneath his pants made me moan.
“I’ve needed you,” he said.
“You, too,” I whispered.
Dean led us backward over the threshold and into the house. Once the door closed behind me, he changed directions, backing me up until the crook of my knees hit a couch. His lips poured over my mouth and cheeks as he laid me down until my body rested along the couch.
“I can’t make it to the bedroom,” he said.
Dean slipped his hands under my skirt, lifting it high around my waist and staring over me with half-slit eyes. He had my panties off my hips and dangling from an ankle in seconds, his breath raspy when he neared my sopping cunt.
“Tuck your hands under your ass and don’t move them.”
There it was again—the directions, the commands, the control, all of it spiking my temperature and leaving me no choice but to heed his words. I tucked my hands beneath me, and Dean shoved my legs apart. He hooked one over the back of the couch and pushed the other to the floor, and then he was on me, his tongue working ferocious swirls around my clit and his finger dipping deep.
I bucked against him, using my balled hands as leverage to hoist myself higher, wanting to touch his hair or cup his cheek but eager not to disobey. Dean parted my folds with his tongue and slipped another finger inside, and when he leaned back to watch the course of his fingers, every stroke he made drove me out to bliss.
“Feels so good...” I whimpered.
“You’re so fucking open for me.” Dean pressed the pad of his thumb on me, the fingers of his other hand pulling back my hood and exposing my sensitivity to his masterful movements. He made nimble, rhythmic swipes and thrust his other fingers in the sweetest pattern, both hands working in tandem to please me. “Open up. Take me in.”
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