by Zoe York
She palmed him through the black cotton and he wound his fingers into her hair.
"You're so big," she whispered, and he laughed.
"Keep telling me that, it's good for my ego."
It was also true. Her thighs flexed as she imagined lifting her hips, welcoming the thick length into her body.
She could already feel the stretch. Shoving his underwear down his hips, she reached for his cock, circling the heavy weight of it with her fingers. He felt good, too. She stroked him up and down, tightening her grip as he whispered instructions.
"All the way down. God, Astrid, yes…"
She pressed her hips forward, capturing the hard length against her belly, and he tumbled them sideways to the bed. He kicked off his clothes, then pressed one of his thighs between her legs.
Naked together.
Nothing had ever felt quite as good or hot or easy as this. She sought his mouth with her own and he met her halfway, their kisses now a kind of dance they both knew without thinking.
Their hands knew what to do as well. He cupped her breast, teasing her nipples back to hardness, then trailed his fingertips down her quivering belly and over her curls, to where she was slick for him.
This time he just visited her clit for a moment, saying hello, before sliding deeper, then inside. First one digit filled her, then two, his eyes on her the whole time as he readied her for more. Need clawed inside her, making her breath hitch as she whispered his name.
His eyes locked on hers, he moved over her and sheathed himself.
There was nothing silly about Dylan right now. Every muscle in his body was flexed above her as he notched himself against her entrance and waited.
She lifted her knees, bringing just the tip of him inside her. His gaze darkened, and she reached for him. "Take me," she whispered. I'm yours.
He thrust into her, making her cry out, then before she could wrap her legs around him and hold him inside her, he slid back again. He was big and hard and intent on driving her insane, clearly, each well-defined muscle in his beautiful body working together effortlessly as he pistoned his hips and pushed into her again, filling her. Stretching her.
Maybe even changing her on an elemental level.
She tried to catch her breath but he was relentless, each thrust deeper than the last, and when she urged him on, harder, too. The whole time his eyes were like magnets, holding her gaze as their bodies moved together. They found a rhythm that stoked her arousal and turned it into an inferno, that drove her crazy and made her arch and twist beneath him as he made love to her.
And then he kissed her, wet and sloppy and totally dirty, but there was a little smile that played at his lips each time he lifted up to look at her, and that's what did it—that smile. As he fucked her and filled her with overwhelming pleasure, that little look said so much.
This was a secret they shared, this passion between them, but they had another secret, too. The silly stuff, the friendship. Dylan had told her that was something he didn't have with other people, and as his thrusts grew sharper and her climax grew closer, she didn't think she was reading too much into it to think that maybe this was something special, too.
He whispered her name, and everything inside her tightened. She nodded and he did it again, twisting that spool. Winding her tighter.
"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice catching. He rolled his hips and she cried out. "Come on, pretty girl. Come for me."
She tipped sideways into the pleasure of it all, his voice and his body and his smile, fragmenting like an erotic kaleidoscope into an orgasm that stretched on and on as he lifted her legs and kept up that deliciously hard rhythm.
And as it faded, she found herself wrapping her legs around him, finally, finding that purchase as he shifted on top of her, higher, and moved into her from a new angle—a good angle, and impossibly, she found herself wanting even more.
"Are you going to come again?” His voice dropped, got rougher.
How could she think when he did that and her skin felt like it was on fire? “I don't know.”
He laughed, sounding a little more out of control than before. “I think that’s a yes.”
"Yes," she breathed. "This is crazy."
"Crazy good," he ground out.
Yes, yes it was.
It didn’t take long for her to peak again, and when she did, she held him inside her as he found his own release. His entire body shook and jerked, and then he cupped her face and kissed her so hard it took her breath away again.
Folding into his arms afterward was the most natural thing in the world.
So was talking about how good it was. When he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her against him, she told him how amazing it had been.
His voice was thick with contentment as he nuzzled against her hair before working his way down her neck. "We've got this crazy magic between us, don't we?"
She nodded. “And two orgasms, huh?”
He kissed her shoulder. “Next time we’ll aim for three.”
“I’m good with two. I just…that’s never happened before.”
“You can have two every time if it makes you happy.”
“Shut up.”
He just grinned.
She snuggled into his side. “Should I have returned the double favour?”
“Nah. I mean, it’s not impossible for me to stay hard, but this time you sucked everything I had out of me.”
She blushed. “Dylan…”
“Too much?”
She shook her head. “No. Just right. You’re…exactly what I need.”
“Dirty, funny, and tall?”
“Something like that.” She yawned. The real answer was more like dirty, funny, and kind, but the tall was good, too.
Chapter Nine
Dylan left Astrid asleep in his bed, her curls trailing across his pillow, and went into the living room to order room service for breakfast.
He looked at his watch.
Okay, brunch.
As he was ordering two of everything, his cell phone rang. Not a text message, an actual phone call.
That was weird.
He looked at the screen and muted the ringer so he could finish his order. “And can you add a bottle of champagne as well?”
“Is this a replacement for the one in the fridge, sir?”
He moved across the space to the kitchenette. “Uh…yes. Yes it is.”
Because hopefully by the time room service arrived, they’d be halfway through the one in the fridge. Score.
“Excellent, Mr. Van Doren, we’ll have that to your villa in forty minutes.”
With a quick thanks, Dylan hung up the house phone. Then he turned to his cell.
Why was Quinn Parry calling him? He hit re-dial.
Quinn answered on the first ring and used his nickname. “Hey, Denali!”
Dylan grinned. “What’s up, man?”
“Did I hear right? Did Garrett’s wedding fall through?”
“Yeah. But probably for the best. And we’re having a decent week of vacation anyway.”
“That’s what I wanted to check in about. We’re in Tampa tonight for a few hours before heading out west. Wondered if you guys might want to have dinner. I can’t get your brother on his phone, and you didn’t answer right away… I was worried I’d have to come out there and make sure you weren’t dead.”
“Not dead.” He glanced at the closed bedroom door. “But…I’ve got plans tonight, man. I’ll pass on the message to Garrett, but I’m out. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’m sure Leah and I can find some mischief to get up to ourselves.”
Dylan shook his head. Quinn Parry was a laid back party animal. The thought of him having a serious girlfriend—and one as intense and type A as Leah—would have had Dylan calling shenanigans a few months earlier. But having met Leah a few times, and seeing her and Quinn together, he was convinced it was the real deal for them.
They met Dylan’s standard for a love match.
<
br /> It was a rare thing. “We’ll catch up when I’m home next week,” he said. “Would love to hear about how your brother is doing in Miralinda.”
Like Dylan and Garrett, Quinn and Will Parry were twins—and both Navy SEALs, although Will had left the teams to go into private industry with two of his buddies on the Caribbean island of Miralinda.
“Lots to talk about for sure. Sounds good.” Quinn said something muffled, then tossed a quick goodbye.
Dylan hung up and went to wake up the only person he wanted to spend the rest of the day and evening with.
* * *
After a mid-morning feast, Astrid tried to make noises about going back to her room to put on real clothes for the day, but Dylan tugged her back to bed and convinced her no clothes were the best answer instead.
They didn’t bother with lunch.
At some point, finally sated, they drifted off into a nap, and when she woke up in his bed in the late afternoon, she was disoriented.
Why was she pinned down by a thick, corded arm attached to a naked man? And why, when she tried to roll to the side, did that naked man grumble and roll with her, burying his face in her hair?
Oh. She smiled as the day came back to her.
"You're awake," the naked man muttered against the back of her neck, his lips tickling her in a very good way.
"I am." She stretched and he relaxed his hold on her enough to allow her to assess just how well-used her body felt.
Extra well-used. She grinned and rolled onto her back. Dylan smoothed his hand over her belly to her far hip, his eyelids fluttering shut at the same time.
She looked at him, really looked. She took in the slight crook of his nose and the faint white scar on his forehead. His thick eyelashes that dusted his cheeks, right above a smattering of freckles so faint that she could pretend nobody else had ever seen them.
At rest, he was almost sweet looking. Of course, the jaw made of granite belied that, but right up close, he was…
He blinked his eyes open and gave her a curious look. "What are you doing?"
"Thinking about how pretty you are," she whispered.
He laughed. "That should be my line."
She shrugged. "Too late. Stole it."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "What do you want to do for dinner?"
"Go back to the pub in town?"
"Or we could hit one of the nice places here at the resort…" He lifted his eyebrows. "Start a rumor about the best man seducing the maid of honor?"
Before she could stop herself, she made a face.
He cleared his throat. "Okay, into town it is."
"No, we could…"
He kissed her nose again. "Nope. It's fine. It's probably for the best this way. I like having you all to myself, with this being our secret."
She nodded, but even as he cuddled her close, she couldn't help but feel like she'd missed an opportunity there. A chance to be fearless and say what she really wanted.
Dylan, and for more than a week.
But he was probably right. This was for the best.
* * *
In town, they parked a few blocks away from the restaurant and walked hand-in-hand, enjoying the early evening beachy small town vibe.
Dylan was fascinated by Astrid's job, and as she was describing the process of going back and forth with a writer to come up with the concept art for a new project, he accidentally discovered she could do impressions when she did a spot-on take on two different Batmans, Adam West vs Ben Affleck.
"Is it weird that turns me on a little?" he asked when he finished laughing.
"Not at all, everyone's got a thing for Adam West," she said with a wink.
"Who else can you do?"
She shrugged. "Lots of people." She did Melissa McCarthy, Joy Behar, Dolly Parton, the President and a few other international heads of state, and when she finished, he was sure his mouth was hanging open.
"Wow."
"It's just a party trick."
"I don't have a party trick like that." He kissed her temple and gave her a quick squeeze before opening the door to the bar and gesturing for her to go in first.
"But you've got other, more impressive skills," she tossed back over her shoulder.
His mind went straight to the gutter, and it looked like the waitress who happened to be standing near the entrance thought the same thing. She started laughing, and he joined in, and Astrid's head wobbled back and forth between them, her eyes growing wide.
"I meant scaling walls and…other things like that," she whispered.
He nodded. "I know, babe."
"Not…" She turned the cutest shade of pink. "That."
"Okay. Good to know that's not impressive." He winked as she howled in protest.
"That's not what I meant. That's plenty…" She turned around and squeaked when she realized the waitress was still standing there, holding her sides now. And a few other customers were chuckling, too. "Oh, great."
"It's okay, honey," the waitress said with a big grin. "That's a thing to be proud of, for sure. Table for two?"
Astrid nodded like a bobble head.
"At least nobody knows us here," he murmured as he held her chair for her.
She made an adorable whimpering sound. "I'm not holding my breath that story doesn't make it back to the resort at some point."
No, he wouldn't take that bet either. But if people knew they were doing that, maybe it would help him in his campaign to get Astrid to admit they should keeping doing it once they got back to California.
Chapter Ten
But he didn't get a chance that night, or in the next few days, and by the time the weekend approached, Dylan realized it was because Astrid was avoiding the topic of them.
As in, she didn't want there to be a them, not once she got on the plane to head home—even though her home was less than an hour away from his.
It wasn't that she pulled away—every time he reached for her, she crawled onto his lap or into his arms with the most beautiful smile.
But each meal they shared was private, and every conversation was carefully anchored to the here and now. They talked about work and their lives back home as if they were something very much other, as if they lived in two totally far-off worlds from each other.
Except he lived in Coronado and she lived in La Jolla, so that made no sense at all.
He found himself frowning as they lay on the beach Thursday afternoon. They were at the resort, and Astrid was reading a paperback on the next lounge chair. He could feel his thoughts swirling again, and that's not where he wanted his head to be at.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, and he jerked his head in her direction.
She'd stopped reading and was looking right at him.
He didn't want to tell her. Didn't want to hear that his fears maybe were founded. "Want to go swimming?"
She shook her head. "I can hear your brain vibrating from over here."
"It's nothing."
She laughed. "That's such a girl answer."
"Nothing wrong with girl answers," he said, lowering his voice. "Come over here and let me show you just how much I like women."
She grinned and rolled her eyes as she pushed to a stand. She was wearing a white one-piece swimsuit today that made her look like Marilyn Monroe. "Okay, let's go swimming. You can…show me…whatever you want in the water."
Well, hot damn. That got rid of his thinking problem in a hurry.
He hopped up and they walked together into the water, arms brushing. As the water rose up their legs, she took his hand in hers and tugged, urging him out to the depths faster.
The ocean was his office in many ways. He'd done his training in the surf, completed countless missions rising from the water silent as the night. But this was the first time in his life he'd felt humbled by the ocean, because it provided enough shelter for him to steal a moment with the woman he was falling for, hard and fast.
"You're incredible," he whispered as he s
wept her into his arms.
"And you're an incorrigible flirt," she teased back.
But he wasn't flirting. For the first time in his life, Dylan Van Doren was totally serious about how much he liked a woman, this woman, and she had no clue.
Tell her.
He couldn't.
But he could show her. He kissed her, tasting the salt on her skin and the sweet warmth of her mouth. He kissed her to keep himself quiet, to keep from asking her why she didn't want more, why she didn't have this restless ache in her gut that goodbye was coming too God damned fast.
And when she sighed and smiled, pressing her forehead against his and giving him a bottomless, open look of adoration, he told himself that was enough. She was over the moon about their week of fun, and he should be too.
* * *
Something was wrong with Dylan, and Astrid couldn't figure it out.
He kept it locked down, but a couple of times she'd said things, talked about home or places she liked to visit around the San Diego area, and he'd tense up.
Maybe she needed to reassure him this was just a fling. She didn't have any expectations.
At the same time, she didn't want to hide that they'd had something, either. She got a text from Simone Friday afternoon asking if it was too soon to go on a date with someone, and she had to laugh. No, not at all, Astrid wrote back. Life is too short to worry about stuff like that. She hesitated, then sent another text. In a weird twist, I may be having a vacation fling with Dylan Van Doren.
She held her breath as she watched Simone start a text back, then stop. Those three little bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times, and she tried to imagine her friend composing a diplomatic response. But Simone wasn't a diplomat, so whatever she got back would probably be harsh.
OMG, I'm laughing so hard. Good for you. Does he glower during sex?