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Dylan (Wild Men)

Page 13

by Melissa Belle


  “I think he was more trying to be protective of you,” I say.

  “Dante’s got a good heart, but he’s always jumping in where he’s not supposed to. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I just don’t want him thinking I’m using you. Because he’s really reading me wrong if he thinks I’m like that Natalie person.”

  “Yeah, he tends to do that. I’ll straighten it out with him.”

  Dylan puts his hand on my thigh. I close my eyes and lean closer to him. I’m not sure I trust myself anymore. My palms are sweating like something big is about to happen.

  His lips brush my hair as he hugs me, and my arms go around his neck.

  He runs his mouth across my jawline, and shivers run down my spine.

  I pull back just enough so I can look into his eyes.

  “Maybe we should kiss now,” I say softly.

  “Maybe we should,” he murmurs. His gaze goes to my mouth. “I’d like to make love to your beautiful mouth all night long.”

  Dear God.

  Before I can back out, Dylan’s mouth is on mine. But unlike the light peck of last night, this time he doesn’t pull away.

  And this time I kiss him back. And back.

  It’s the most perfect kiss of my life. Very likely the most perfect kiss in creation.

  His tongue is gentle at first, but when I start clawing at his back like a starving animal, he gets rougher. He wraps one hand around my hair and nibbles my lower lip, then licks my top one before sliding his tongue deep into my mouth. Then I’m climbing onto his lap and pulling at his hair as I silently beg him to kiss me harder.

  And he complies.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you,” he whispers as he shifts back a fraction of an inch. “I wanted to kiss you this afternoon after you came so hard on my hand I nearly lost myself.”

  I nip his full lower lip. “Then why didn’t you?”

  His eyes lock with mine. “Because touching you like that was not a casual event, Jasalie. And casual is what we agreed to.”

  “You didn’t…” I rephrase. “You don’t often do that with women you pick up in cities you travel to? You know, have a hook up and then move on?”

  “I’ve done the hook up for the weekend thing before, yes.” His dark eyes flash with intensity as he stares at me. “But I’ve never felt for anyone what you made me feel this afternoon. And we didn’t even kiss.”

  I grip his shirt in my hands and hang on. “It surprised me too.”

  “I handled it like shit.” His expression turns repentant. “I truly apologize for that. The last thing I wanted was for you to leave, and yet that’s the vibe I gave off.”

  “You looked like you regretted touching me.”

  I wish I could take back the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. They’re too honest, and far too revealing.

  But Dylan takes my face in both hands. “Absolutely not,” he says with feeling. “I didn’t regret one second of what we did. If you read something on my face, it was me realizing that this thing between us is already more complicated than I’d planned on. Maybe you felt that too.”

  “Yes. And I’m sorry I ran out on you.” My voice is so quiet I’m not sure he heard me.

  A heavy breath, and then he says, “You don’t need to run all the time. Sometimes it’s okay to stay.”

  Sometimes it’s okay to stay.

  His words do something to my closed-off heart, and I take a jagged inhale as I break away from him abruptly. My mouth is wet and my hair’s a mess. I’ve never felt so exposed.

  Dylan leans back against the wall as we stare at each other. His lips are swollen and his cheeks flushed. And his eyes look as wild as I feel inside. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I actually freaked him out. But he must have had an amazing kiss before. With the number of women that have thrown themselves at him, he must have.

  But I know I haven’t. I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy. Maybe because I never was.

  “You’re breaking down my walls,” he whispers, surprising the hell out of me.

  “Touché.” I laugh shakily and then force myself to stand up. “I should go to bed.”

  He follows and leans in to kiss me softly. “Love in an elevator?”

  I laugh. “I don’t think so.” I go to step away from him, but my legs are literally weak from our make-out session, and I stumble.

  Dylan’s arm goes around my waist. “You sure?”

  I smile. “I’m never sure with you.”

  No one’s this lucky and certainly not me. I can’t wrap my head around the idea that this is my life right now. Kissing someone like Dylan Wild. Not because he’s rich and powerful and handsome. Because in this moment, I feel like maybe I love him.

  The elevator doors open, and we step out. “I’ll walk you to your door, okay?” he says to me.

  Don’t sleep with him…don’t sleep with him…don’t sleep with him.

  When we reach my room, I grab the keycard and slip it in the slot. “Good night.”

  I’m halfway through the door before he calls out to me.

  “Hey. No kiss tonight?”

  I remember the lightness of his lips, the softness of his skin, and the crazy intensity of our kiss in the elevator.

  “I don’t think I’d be able to stop,” I admit.

  He leans an arm over the doorjamb and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he says, “So…”

  “So…” I repeat. “I think I need to just end this now.”

  “End this now…as in tonight, or as in forever?” he asks me.

  His eyes have that cocky edge again, but he can’t hide the emotion swimming in them.

  I pause. “As in tonight. Our time here isn’t over yet right?”

  He kisses the top of my head. “See you tomorrow.”

  I step inside my room and shut the door behind me. I lean against it and sink down to my knees. Oh, please God, please don’t let me fall in love with him. If there’s any way to stop this train, please do so. Leave it to me to fall for someone I’m supposed to leave in a day.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I awaken to a terrific headache and the deafening sound of the hotel phone blaring in my ear. I roll over and look at the clock as I pick up the receiver. Five forty-five a.m. No wonder I feel like shit.

  “Jasalie,” Bill barks into the phone. “Meet me in the coffee shop next door in twenty minutes. The three of us need to go over a few things about the party tonight.”

  I groan as I get up and reach for a bottle of aspirin.

  I slide into the booth next to Lilla and pour myself a cup of black coffee.

  She and I sit silently while Bill goes on and on about the “surprise” final event we’re supposed to cover this afternoon. “Damn owner never mentioned it once. I thought it was just another night at the hotel bar. But no—Hal wants to do something outdoorsy, so he rented a freaking football field. At the state university campus. Don’t know how he expects us to do a bang-up job with just a few hours of warning, but ‘we’ll get it done’ I said. What choice did I have?”

  He glares at me as he says it.

  “What do we need to do to prepare?”

  “You two confirm that the catering is in place.” He slides a list across the table. “Here are the companies, the food and drink list, and anything else you need to know about. I’ve emailed you each a copy as well so you’ll have the info on your phones. The event will just be for a few hours, and it’s casual dress. So no business attire for this—you’ll look like idiots.”

  Good to know.

  He glances at my casual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt. “But dress up more than that, for God’s sake.”

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Bill.”

  He smirks before continuing. “The team is having a raffle with the winnings going to a few of the players’ favorite charities. Plus, a group of kids from the area foster home will be coming to the football field for a
bout an hour.”

  I choke on my coffee.

  Lilla pats my back.

  “She’s okay,” she says to Bill. “Kids in need always choke her up.”

  Bill’s hardly listening. “The foster kids are coming due to Dylan Wild’s charity—the guy loves helping underprivileged kids. So the kiddos will toss the football around with a few of the players, then they’ll form a line to get some autographs, pictures, and signed paraphernalia. Then they’ll get back on the bus for home—”

  Home. He means their foster homes. Who knows how long these kids have lived there or how much longer they’ll be able to stay? A foster home isn’t a permanent home. No one knows that better than I do.

  “…and the players will be free to drink and be merry until five,” Bill says. “That’s when everything shuts down and we’re home free.”

  “Sounds great,” I get out.

  Bill nods. “While you two are getting the party pieces in place, I’ll work on the business end of things—I want a contract signed with the Cougars before I step on that plane back to L.A. tomorrow morning. This last event better seal the deal—I had a date with Meagan this afternoon, and now we have to change the time.”

  I so do not want to know about Bill’s love life.

  But Lilla jumps on it. “That’s great, Bill. I’m glad you and Meagan are hitting it off.”

  “Yep,” he says, and he actually sounds half-normal for a moment. “Seems better than my ex-wife, but you know…” He takes a sip of coffee. “It’s only just started. So time will tell. But there is a fire between us.”

  “Seems like love is blooming in the desert.” Lilla winks at me.

  I kick her under the table, but she’s not done.

  “I love watching people fall in love. I wish you all the best.” She’s looking at Bill, but she grabs my hand under the table and squeezes it.

  Bill’s bombshell is exploding on a loop in my head as I return to my room.

  Foster kids are coming to the event this afternoon.

  When the door closes behind me, I feel numb. So I do something I haven’t done in quite a while.

  I pick up the phone and call my first long-term foster mother, Ilene.

  Always an early riser, I know I won’t wake her up.

  “Darling, how’ve you been?” she barks in a husky voice only someone who’s smoked two packs a day for thirty years can have. “Where are you?”

  “On a business trip in Arizona,” I tell her. “Ever been here?”

  “No, can’t say that I have. But my sister gave me a calendar of different places one year for Christmas, and Arizona was on it. Looked beautiful.”

  “It is.” I sit in silence then, not having a clue what else to say to her. Really, I called just to hear her voice, to reassure myself there’s somebody out in the world who knows of my existence, who will recognize me as Jasalie Gordon, and who might be just a little bit sad if I were to disappear off the planet.

  “It’s the same as always in Los Angeles,” Ilene says, trying to keep the chat going. “Smoggy and crowded.”

  Sounds like her place when I lived there. Ilene liked collecting things—“I’m a collector!”—she said proudly, and whether it was kids, pets, or antiques, there was too much stuff in that one-story ranch house. There were four of us foster kids running around, the oldest fifteen and me the youngest. I lived there until I was eleven when Ilene broke her leg, and I was sent to stay with a new family.

  After we hang up, I can’t stay still. I jump up and nearly run out of the room and to the elevator. When I reach the lobby, I walk quickly, praying I won’t see anyone.

  Afraid paparazzi will be lurking out front, I go out the back of the hotel and take a seat on the stone wall facing the desert. I stare at the horizon until it’s blurry, and I realize I’d forgotten to blink. But once I start to blink, tears follow. I wipe my face with my hands, but the tears don’t seem to want to stop. They come down my cheeks like a waterfall, and I let them fall.

  I pull my notebook out of my purse.

  Mom,

  Could you stop my tears, or did I drive you away with them? Maybe you didn’t know how to hold me when I cried. Maybe I drove you crazy when I was scared, or sad, or lonely.

  I wish you’d been around for me, to hold me till I fell asleep at night, to pick me up when I fell down. I’ve fallen down a lot in the past twenty-plus years, and I never knew where to find you. All I knew was that you weren’t by my side once. And I missed you every second.

  But I’m going to make things right for you. I’m halfway to making sure you never feel as homeless as I have.

  We’ll be okay. Both of us.

  Jasalie

  When I hear Dylan call my name, it’s too late to make a run for it. I turn my head away from the direction his voice came from, but he’s too close already. So I stuff my notebook back into my purse just as he reaches me.

  “Jasalie.”

  Hard as I try to keep my face in shadow, the sun shines brightly on my tears.

  “Shit.” He takes a seat on the wall next to me. “What’s the matter?”

  I’m too ashamed to tell him the truth, that I have no family and I just called up a fake one to try to make myself feel less lonely. I wipe my eyes and sigh. “Oh, crap,” I say. “This is embarrassing.”

  “Why?” he says.

  He’s got on Cougars sweatpants, a team sweatshirt, and a Dodgers baseball cap. He looks so cozy and relaxed that I’m envious. I’m incredibly strung-out and that coffee didn’t help matters.

  I bang my heels against the stone wall. “Because I barely know you, and this is not the way you want someone you just met to see you.” In truth, I never want anyone to see me like this. I feel fragile like I could break if someone pushed a little too hard.

  “Did something happen?” Dylan puts his arm around me.

  “I just…” I struggle to come up with a response. “I spoke to someone back in L.A., and it made me sad.”

  “I’m sorry.” He pulls me into his chest for a hug.

  I linger against the softness of his sweatshirt and wrap my arm around his waist. He smells so darn good. Smelling good is very important. It means a lot.

  “The rest of the money will be in your account by tonight,” he murmurs into my ear.

  I freeze. That means our time together is nearly over. The very concept shatters me. But the money in my account…it means I can go see my mother and hand her the check in person.

  “That’s…good news,” I get out. “Thank you so much.”

  He kisses my head. “Thank you for taking a chance on a guy you didn’t know at all and for trusting me.”

  Emotions clog my throat.

  “I can’t tell you how much it’s meant to me, Jasalie—spending time together like this.” His voice is harsh, almost like he’s feeling things he didn’t expect to feel.

  Maybe Dylan and I are less different than I thought.

  “For me, too,” I say softly.

  He clears his throat. “You look exhausted,” he says. “Go take a nap and I’ll call you after my workout. I won’t let you sleep all morning, I promise.”

  I tell him that I’m fine, but as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m asleep.

  When the ringing phone wakes me for the second time today, I open my eyes gingerly, not sure I want to get up and face the world again this morning. But my headache’s gone, and I groggily grab the phone.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” Dylan’s sexy voice comes through the receiver.

  “Hey.” I struggle to sit up and look at the clock. Shit, it’s already after nine.

  “Can I come by?” he asks me. “I have a surprise.”

  “Um…” I glance at my rumpled clothes. “I need to shower first.”

  “I’ll be by in a half hour. See you then, baby.”

  Baby. He just called me baby. That scares the freaking daylights out of me, and yet—

  I fight a smile as I head for the shower.

  Thirty minute
s later

  After I finish drying my hair, I quickly dress in black jeans and a lace cami and pull on the lone sweater I brought with me—a deep violet color. I love that I won’t need a jacket even though we’ll be outdoors. I’ve always loved warm climates, and Tucson is hotter than L.A. Even in February, despite the cool breezes and lower temperatures, the sun is always shining.

  I call the catering company to confirm everything is set for this afternoon. Then I look at the list and freeze at what’s next—Red Rock Foster Care, Inc.

  I text Lilla and ask her to make that call instead.

  As I sit down on the bed, I glance at the clock.

  Dylan’s late.

  I exhale in relief when I hear a knock on the door. To be blown off at this stage in the game would not feel as easy as a no-strings affair should.

  I open the door to a smiling Dylan, along with a waiter and room service cart.

  “Hey.” Dylan steps inside my room, followed by the cart and waiter. “This is Joaquin, the head server. I hope you didn’t eat breakfast yet.”

  “Wow.” I wave at the smiling Joaquin. “No. What did you get me?”

  “Us.” Dylan takes the bill from Joaquin and signs it. “Breakfast for us. And Joaquin will show you. It’s his favorite part.”

  “This is true.” Joaquin beams at me. “For the lady: French toast, scrambled eggs with tomato and feta, and a cranberry juice.”

  I turn to Dylan. “How’d you know I like scrambled eggs with tomato and feta?”

  “Little sleuthing.”

  “Did you interrogate Lilla?”

  “Only if you call asking her what you like for breakfast interrogating,” he answers me.

  Joaquin interrupts. “And for the gentleman—eggs Benedict, bacon and sausage, stack of cakes, and an OJ.”

  “Thank you, Joaquin.” Dylan hands him back the bill. “Have a great day.”

  “Thank you, sir. Madam.” Joaquin bows at me, and I wave as he lets himself out.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed, and Dylan takes a seat next to me.

  “Thank you for doing this.” I raise my water glass to him in a toast. Then I catch myself. “Shit. Bad luck.”

 

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