They both lay panting, unable to move. Making love to Dylan was far beyond anything she could have ever imagined. And it was exactly that… making love. Could he feel it? Does he realize what he means to her?
She stays on his chest, still connected to him, not moving and completely lost in him. She loves hearing his heavy breathing and listening to his racing heartbeat gradually slow down. Finally, she gathers the courage to push herself off of his chest. As she lifts her face to his, her eye catches Dylan’s collarbone.
“Oh, no,” she mumbles, her fingers touching his discolored skin.
“What?”
“I gave you a hickey.”
Dylan chuckles and pushes her hair behind her ear and touches her cheek. His hand moves down her neck. “Uh, I hate to tell you this,” he says with a smug grin, “but I gave you one right here.” His finger rubs a spot on her neck. “So we’ll call it even… but feel free to give me hickeys anywhere you want, my body is yours.”
Something about that simple sentence tugs on her heart. She wants him to be hers, all of him. But not just his body; she wants his heart as well. She stares into his eyes for a long moment and sees no teasing in his expression. With a soft sigh, she caresses his cheek before laying her head back down on his chest.
Dylan’s fingers lazily move up and down her back. Ever so softly, she kisses his chest, wishing they could stay like this forever.
* * *
He shouldn't still want her. Their lovemaking earlier should’ve been enough. The way she sat in his lap, her legs straddling him, the way she looked into his eyes and ran her hands through his hair. The way she fell apart in his arms, moaning his name. But he’s a greedy bastard and wants more. It's never enough with Myra. Dylan finds her skin to be so fucking addictive; he can’t get enough of how soft and small she feels in his arms.
Thankfully Myra doesn't seem to mind his insatiable appetite. Pinned on the couch underneath him, he can feel her smiling through their heated kisses. He's being a little rough, but he can't seem to stop himself. Slipping his hand down, he pulls her thigh up around his hip, spreading her open for him. Just as the tip of his cock touches the warm place between her legs, someone bangs loudly on the front door. Myra lets out a muffled scream against his mouth.
“Jesus Christ,” he shouts, the knock scaring the shit out of him. He whips his head towards the door. “Who the fuck is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s probably Jackie,” Myra mumbles as she pushes on his chest. He stands and Myra leaps from the couch, searching for her clothes.
“Goddamn it,” he mutters as he tugs on his jeans.
He hands Myra her bra and sweater as he grabs his shirt. They both frantically look around to make sure no articles of clothing got left behind. The pounding on the door continues as Myra hurries towards it. She peeks out and turns her head towards him. “It’s Jackie,” she confirms before opening it.
Jackie’s eyes dart between them before narrowing slightly.
Myra clears her throat. “Hi,” she says quietly before looking quickly at Dylan and back at Jackie.
Jackie continues studying them for a moment. “Were you guys just…?” She shivers and throws one hand up, her other hand holding a plastic bag. She shakes her head vehemently with a repulsed look on her face. “Yuck. Don’t say a word because I do not want to know. You guys are disgusting,” she mumbles as she marches past Myra and into the house.
“Dylan,” Jackie says in a flat voice as her lips form a grim line.
Dylan tries not to roll his eyes and manages to give her a nod.
Jackie turns to Myra and shakes her head. “I’m going to pretend none of that just happened. Here’s your mail,” she says, shoving the grocery bag at her.
“Thanks,” Myra says as she sets it to the side.
“That’s what friends are for,” Jackie says before immediately grabbing Myra in a hug. “I missed you so much. It’s been so boring around here without you. How’s Susie? Oh, that’s a dumb question because I know how she’s not doing well with everything she’s been through. Bless her heart. I really miss her. I hope she gets to come visit you again soon so we can all hang out again. We had so much fun together.”
Dylan sits down on the couch and Myra sits next to him as Jackie’s mouth continues to run. Not really listening, his phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket and sees Ray’s number on the caller ID. Figuring he must be calling about the disposal, he silences the phone and decides to call him back tomorrow.
“You know, Myra, I got to thinking after we hung up earlier and I remembered something,” Jackie says and Dylan’s ears perk up. He tucks his phone away and looks up at her. “Well, I take that back. I actually didn’t remember it until I was driving down the street tonight and was almost in the driveway, and that’s when it suddenly came to me. It’s probably nothing but…” Jackie looks up at the ceiling, the corner of her mouth twisting. “Um… what day was it? I can’t remember… I think it was the day after you left to go to Philadelphia.” Jackie looks at Myra. “Did you leave on a Saturday?”
“Yeah,” Myra says.
“Okay, then it was that next morning because I was going to sleep in and not go into the bookstore until later. I had trouble sleeping the night before and ended up sleeping on the couch but something woke me up. It sounded like a car door slamming. I jumped up all ticked off because I thought it was… Dylan again,” she says, looking over at Dylan and shrugging. “Sorry.”
She looks back at Myra. “Anyway, I looked out the window, ready to give Dylan a piece of my mind and saw a car driving off in the distance. I knew it wasn’t him because it wasn’t a truck. I can’t believe I forgot about that, but I honestly didn’t think it was any big deal at the time.”
Dylan frowns. “What color was the car? Did you get a make and model?” he asks her.
“No. I wasn’t paying any attention. I think it might have been a dark color… maybe black or dark blue… but honestly I’m just guessing because I really don’t remember. I didn’t think it was important.” She looks at Myra. “I’m really sorry; I should’ve paid more attention.”
“It’s okay,” Myra says. “I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s probably just a coincidence.”
“I hope so. Wow, we have so much catching up to do,” she says. Her eyes move to Dylan and back to Myra. “Is he staying?”
“Uh… no,” Myra says. Dylan turns to look at her, his eyes narrowing.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says with a small smile. “It’s just that you haven’t even been home yet. I’m sure you need to unpack and have things you need to do.”
“No, I don’t. I can stay…”
“Oh, I can stay with her,” Jackie says in a loud voice. Dylan gives her a look that basically says fuck off. Jackie ignores him. “I’m actually a little freaked out about someone hanging around here and don’t really want to be by myself tonight anyway. This way we can keep each other company and catch up on everything.”
“Sure. I think that sounds like a great idea,” Myra says.
Dylan makes a grumbling sound. Myra reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “I’ll be fine. She can stay with me tonight. I know you have things to do.”
He scowls. “I think I should stay.”
“We’ll be fine,” Myra says.
“That’s right,” Jackie adds. “We’ll keep each other safe.”
Dylan realizes he won’t be winning this argument so he shakes his head and stands. He walks towards the door and Myra follows him. “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” he says to her in a low voice.
She smiles and touches his cheek. “I can take care of myself.”
He continues to frown. “You’ll call me if anything happens, right?”
“Of course… quit worrying.”
He takes in a deep breath. “I’ll be over first thing in the morning to work on your locks.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you later to check on you, all right?” he
says before running the back of his finger down her cheek. Myra’s lips curl upward at his touch, and he can’t help but lean down and put a soft kiss on them. He ignores Jackie as she yells out, “Gross,” in the background.
“Be safe and lock the deadbolts,” he whispers. She nods and touches his cheek softly.
Once outside, he blows out a heavy breath and pulls out a cigarette. He can’t believe he just got tossed out on his ass by none other than Jackie. Irritated, he walks around the perimeter of the house and garage again, checking all of the locks one more time and looking for anything out of the ordinary. After making sure the house is secure as it can be, he reluctantly gets into his truck and heads home.
When he opens the front door to his house, he crinkles his nose up in disgust. It smells like shit. Something has to be rotting somewhere. He tosses his carry-on bag to the couch and opens the windows to try to let some of the smell out. After lighting up another cigarette, he grabs a beer and flops on the couch.
Taking a drink, he looks around at the piles of clothes and random tools everywhere. He doesn’t know why he never bothers to clean up. He doesn’t live like a fucking slob on purpose. He’s just never given a shit about it. But now... a frown crosses his face when he thinks about Myra. Thank goodness she didn’t come in that day she stopped by. She’d never believe he lived in such a dump. But she’s going to see it at some point; he did ask her out on a date. No way in hell can he bring her here with it looking the way it does right now.
He takes another drink of his beer and decides that he’ll start trying to clean it up some. It should be a fucking breeze considering the fact that he could build a house from the foundation up. After finishing his beer, he starts hauling tools from the living room into his garage. After an hour or so has gone by, he pulls out his phone and calls Myra.
“Hi,” she answers softly.
“Hey. Is Jackie driving you up the fucking wall yet?”
“Yes,” she says with a giggle.
“Any creepers hanging around that I’m gonna have to beat the shit out of?”
“No…” she says, laughing softly. “No creepers.”
“Good. You call me if you see or hear anything, all right?”
“I will.”
“Now if I remember correctly, I think you agreed to go out on a date with some lucky ass contractor…”
She laughs lightly. “Oh, yeah, I do vaguely recall something like that…”
“Well, how about if that lucky ass contractor picks you up at seven on Saturday?”
“Hmm… I might be available, but I’ll have to check my calendar first because I stay pretty busy,” she says. “What should I wear?”
“Well, considering the lucky ass contractor will be picking you up in a nasty ass work truck, I think jeans will be fine.”
“Okay. I can’t wait.”
“Me either. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Myra.”
“Good night.”
As Dylan hangs up his phone, he can’t seem to wipe the grin off of his face. He still has no idea what to do for their date, but he’ll figure that shit out later. Even though his back hurts like hell, he goes back to cleaning his filthy house. With only two days until their date and his plans to work on Myra’s house tomorrow, if he doesn’t get started on it now, he’ll never get it done.
Three hours later, Dylan strips down to his boxers and falls into bed exhausted. He has a whole new appreciation for the hell women go through to keep a house clean. He found the source of the smell in the house; it was a slice of moldy pizza that somehow found a new home behind his couch. There was just so much shit in piles everywhere that he ended up bagging up the majority of it and tossing the bags into his basement just to get them out of the way. He’ll just have to make certain Myra doesn’t go anywhere near that basement.
Before he dozes off, he tries to come up with something to do on their date, but falls asleep before any ideas hit him.
* * *
Myra looks at the unopened letter in her hand. “Yes, I have your card, but I’m not going to open it,” she says to Susie.
“What? You have to open it. I made it especially for you. I’ll be completely offended if you don’t, and I’ll hold a grudge against you for the rest of eternity.”
“Well, you’re going to have to hold a grudge.”
“Ugh, you’re such a stick in the mud. Okay, let me at least tell you about it. I worked really hard on it, and I want you to appreciate my efforts.”
Myra rolls her eyes. “Fine…”
“Okay. I put ‘You Got Dicked’ in bright red letters on the front of it and put a picture of a giant weenie right in the middle. Then I put two pics of various sized wieners on each side – one that was short and stumpy, one that was long and I do mean long… and a couple that were just like oh my god, where did that thing come from. Then on the inside of the card I put something like: Today is a day to celebrate. You got dicked by Dylan’s Dick. May you continue to get dicked by Dylan’s Dick daily. I love you and I’m horrifically jealous. Love, Your Virtual Best Bud, Susie.”
“I’m glad I didn’t open it,” Myra says with a laugh, shocked that Susie has somehow managed to embarrass her from two thousand miles away. “You’re completely crazy.”
“Ah, you’re no fun. So what happened with the stalker stuff today? Did Dylan take you to the grocery store? That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard of, by the way. I can’t believe he wouldn’t let you go to the store by yourself. There is something seriously hot about a guy getting all protective over his woman like that. Did he kick that creepy dude’s ass again?”
“No, thankfully Derek wasn’t there. I’m glad he wasn’t because Dylan was really amped up; I don’t know what he would’ve done if he’d seen him. I think Dylan’s just overreacting to the whole situation. He even changed all of the locks on my doors today. I think it was probably just some kids that we saw.”
“Well, I’m with Dylan on this one. Let him be all caveman-like and protective of you; it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I still can’t believe that scruffy Greek god hunkawunkaman replaced your sidewalk. Do you know what I find to be really weird about the whole thing? Replacing a sidewalk is completely and totally not a sexy thing for a man to do yet I find it to be completely and incredibly sexy that he did that. But maybe it’s only because I keep picturing him all sweaty and wearing that sexy as heck tool belt while he lifted those heavy pieces of concrete and flexed his fine muscles. I bet he had a little plumber’s crack going on too. Normally, that would make me gag and want to pluck my eyeballs out, but the thought of Dylan showing a little ass crack? Oh yeah…” Susie says before cackling loudly.
“Quit talking about him like he’s a piece of meat.”
“I’d like to eat that meat,” Susie says in a low voice.
“Susie!”
“Okay, okay. I’m just kidding,” she says before giggling crazily. “I promise to not say anything perverted about your hunky tool man for at least the next five minutes. Wow, it feels so good to laugh again. I’ve been so down lately with losing dad and especially after you told me Dylan’s story. Guess what I decided to do to cheer myself up?”
“What?”
“I got back to plotting my revenge on Trent the Turd for going through my purse. I’ve got a few minor details to iron out, but hopefully project Torment the Trent will be launched on Monday.”
“What are you going to do? Don’t do anything that’s going to get you into trouble or put your job in jeopardy.”
“Oh, no, I’m not sharing my secrets with you just yet. You’ll find out all the gory details afterwards. Besides, I’m just going to have a little bit of fun with him.”
“Don’t do anything crazy…”
Susie laughs. “I promise to keep it tame. Or I’ll at least I’ll try to.”
“All right… well, I better get going. I need to go see how Dylan’s doing. He
decided to tear everything out of the upstairs bathroom today except for the tub.”
“Okay. Call me later, hon.”
“I will.”
* * *
Dylan glances up one more time at Myra as she stands in her doorway before he takes off down the street. She asked him to stay and eat dinner with her, but he couldn’t because he has to go see Elaina and stop by someone’s house to give them an estimate on a job.
Pulling up in front of Elaina’s, he groans as he gets out of his truck. He has to start seeing her more often. His back hurts like hell. His phone rings and when he digs it out of his pocket, he mutters, “Fuck,” under his breath when he sees the caller ID.
He flips open his phone. “Yeah?”
“Why the hell didn’t you call me back?” Ray yells.
“Jesus. I was busy today and forgot. Did you get a look at that disposal?”
“Yeah, I had to change it out. You owe me some money.”
“I know and I’ll pay you. Look, Myra’s cabinets are in and I need another truck to help me pick them up. Can you run to Boise with me on Monday?”
“Yeah, but it’s going to cost you.”
Dylan closes his eyes and rubs his temple.
“What time?” Ray asks. “I can’t wait to see Myra again.”
“Eight,” Dylan says through clenched teeth, “… at my house.”
“See you then, girlfriend.”
Dylan flips his phone shut and shoves it angrily into his pocket. Stepping into Elaina’s, he takes off his coat and hangs it up just as she bustles in. “Dylan! How are you, mi querido?” she asks, grinning happily as she picks up her glasses that are hanging from a chain around her neck and slips them on.
“Not good.”
“Oh, I don’t like hearing that. Come on in and let’s take a look. You can leave your shirt on. What’s your pain level today?”
Dylan grimaces when he lies down on the table. “Probably a seven… nah, closer to an eight.”
“Oh, that is definitely not good. Have you been doing your exercises?”
Color of Forgiveness Page 14