After two syndicated sitcoms, I playfully tap her on the ass because it’s time to get ready to go. She doesn’t know it yet, but I had Zeke’s younger sister, an aspiring personal shopper, hit the mall this afternoon to find the perfect outfit for tonight. I have a band slotted to perform this evening at Last Chance, a bar that is quickly gaining a reputation as one of the best small venues in town for live music.
“Go get ready, we have to leave soon.” Tasha reaches to untie the rope and I stop her. Because I know better than to grab her wrists, I snake my arms around her waist, distracting her with a kiss. “Leave that on. It’s part of your outfit for the night.”
“Dylan, I can’t wear this all night. It’ll drive me crazy and people will wonder what it’s all about.” I see her eyes drop to the floor and I wonder what thought just ran through her mind. It doesn’t take long to get my answer. I don’t draw attention to it, but Tasha is already learning to open up to me. I fucking love that. “What if someone knows what it is and thinks I’m the type of girl they can take home with them?”
The mere mention of anyone else wanting to play with Tasha infuriates me. As far as I’m concerned, no one will ever experience that blessing. “No one, and I do mean no one, is going to lay a finger on you tonight. When I’m busy, Zeke will be there to make sure that promise to you is kept.”
“Dylan,” Tasha sighs. “You can’t keep asking Zeke to be my bodyguard. From the sounds of it, he has a plenty active life of his own; he doesn’t need to babysit me on a Friday night.”
I reach for Tasha’s hand, pulling her toward the bedroom. We’re wasting time and I can’t afford to be late tonight. “First, I told you that in our circle, we look out for one another. Second, he’s my best friend and he owes me for all the times I saved his ass. And third, he has to be there too. Tonight’s a big night for us.”
She comes to a halt in the middle of the hall. I turn around and see her staring at me, suddenly looking annoyed. “Okay, we’ll revisit the first point in a minute, but what do you mean it’s a big night for us? And how does Zeke play into that?”
After introducing Tasha to shibari and promising her it would be a special night, I laugh at what she must be thinking. Zeke’s a great guy and sure, we’ve shared a woman or two in the past, but the invitation to join Tasha and me will never happen. What we have is different and I want to keep my past and my future somewhat isolated from one another.
“Not us,” I inform her, waving my hand between our bodies. “Tonight is a huge night for my company, the one Zeke and I own together. We got a national act to take a chance on a small venue in town with a good reputation. We both need to be there to make sure nothing goes wrong because, if we pull it off, they’re talking about signing on to have us take the lead on booking other shows for them in the region. It’s not something we’ve done before but they asked and I do have the connections to make it work. If all goes well, I can see it becoming a new line of business for us.”
I realize I’m rambling and shut up. I’m sure she doesn’t want me to bore her with all the details.
“Okay. But are you sure you want me there if this is so life-and-death to you?”
What will it take for her to realize that everything in my life seems just a bit better now that she’s around? Yes, I want her there. I want to share this night with her. If things keep going the way they are between us, I can see her moving in to take over some of the day-to-day operations so I can focus on growing our talent pool. I know how much she hates her job, I’ve seen it in her face the past three days and she’s told me she was recently passed up for a promotion everyone thought would be hers. But it’s too soon to tell her all of that.
“Yes, Precious. We haven’t had much time to let loose and have fun. I have to work for a while, but then I’m all yours for the rest of the night. Now, go get dressed and I’ll meet you in the living room.”
(Tasha)
For the second Friday in a row, I feel like a poser. Tonight, I have a pair of black skater pants, a tight ribbed tank top, and brand new Doc Martens. And thanks to Dylan, I’m wearing ten feet of rope on my arm.
I decide to embrace this newest look and pull out my makeup bag. I said I wanted to figure out who I’m meant to be, might as well view tonight as a trial run. Who knows, maybe I’ll decide this is a look that makes me feel comfortable and beg Dylan to tell me where he bought the clothes. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.
As I put away my lip gloss, my eye catches the glint of my nose ring. It seems like a lifetime ago that I was asking Holly to drive me to her favorite tattoo parlor. Was it really just a week ago? I swallow back a lump in my throat when I realize that means it has been six days since I talked to Holly. This is the longest we’ve gone without speaking and it hurts to think about.
I contemplate sending her a text message letting her know where I will be, but I don’t because I remember how unenthusiastic she was about my weekend with Dylan. Whatever her issue is with him, and I know there is one, I’m not going to let it ruin tonight. I’ve been promised something special and that’s what I fully intend to get.
“Tasha, I have to go,” Dylan yells from the other side of his condo. This has become our thing, yelling from room to room for one another. It’s another thing that annoyed me with Nick, mostly because he did it out of sheer laziness. With Dylan, I know he’s trying to give me a bit of privacy when he doesn’t come to where I am. “Are you just about ready?”
“Coming,” I shout back to him. With one final look in the mirror and a quick brush of my hand against the cotton binding, I make my way to the door.
When I first saw the ropes lying on the floor, I was scared Dylan was going to throw me into the deep end of his kinky pool. I know without a doubt that I can’t allow that to happen. Even if I’m willing to experiment with certain things, I can’t stomach the idea of losing the use of my hands.
Now, less than an hour later, I’m growing accustomed to the feeling of the rope wrapped around my flesh. I love Dylan for making the effort to ease me into his fetish and for being patient with my reservations.
Wait, what? No, you don’t love anything about Dylan. You might like it, but you most definitely do not, can not, love anything about him so soon.
I’ve heard of Last Chance before, but I’ve never been to a show here. I’m not sure what to expect when we walk in the doors, but it’s certainly not a wide open space with a contemporary feel.
Dylan grabs my hand to lead me through the already large crowd. The manager approaches us, directing us to a private room at the back of the building. I feel out of place as I follow Dylan into the room where all three bands performing tonight are relaxing until show time.
We weave our way around the room, Dylan making sure all of the bands’ needs are met. He surprises me by introducing me to everyone. I don’t need anyone to know who I am and I would honestly prefer to stay in the background here.
I see Zeke in the corner of the room, talking to a woman who looks about ready to fall out of her top. She’s the type of woman I imagine Zeke being drawn to like a magnet, big hair, big boobs and, from the way she’s looking at him, not much going on upstairs. When he catches me staring at them, he excuses himself and pulls away from her clingy little fingers. I wonder if I’ll be seeing more of her throughout the evening.
I feel Zeke’s hand between my shoulder blades. Dylan’s eyes go to his friend’s hand, making me worry that there’s going to be an issue. While I’m not used to platonic affection from a man, that’s exactly what it feels like when Zeke touches me. I hope Dylan realizes there’s nothing going on.
Zeke pulls out a stool at a vacant table. I sit and he does the same. I take off my hoodie and Zeke’s eyes immediately fix on the rope.
“Very nice,” Zeke says approvingly, looking at my wrist. He turns to Dylan. “She let you do that?”
“No, man. She did that all on her own.” He winks at me and I begin to relax.
“Sweet! Was it you
r first time?”
My eyes drift to the floor. Zeke’s question is innocent enough, but I’m uncomfortable talking to him about this because I know he’s into the same things Dylan is. We haven’t talked much about it, but between Dylan’s mannerisms, how we met, and little things he has said, it’s not hard to figure out that he is very serious about BDSM. I don’t fully understand that because his actions don’t resemble anything I would expect from someone like that.
“Um, yeah,” I mumble, hoping he’ll leave it at that.
I feel Dylan come up behind me, sliding his arms around my middle. “She’s a natural, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. You better watch out or you’ll be calling me to cut you loose when you piss her off and she ties your ass to the bed,” Zeke laughs. The corner of my mouth lifts at the thought of turning the tables on Dylan and making him submit to me. I doubt I could ever dominate him, but it’s a nice fantasy.
“You’re telling me,” Dylan agrees. “Then again, if that’s what it takes…”
“Dylan, can you grab me something to drink?” I ask, effectively stopping Dylan from going any further with this conversation. What we do or don’t do in the privacy of his home is none of anyone’s business. Especially not his attractive best friend who lives in the same building.
Dylan leads me to the private bar in the green room, where he tells them to give me whatever I want and charge it to his account. He’s making it very clear to the brawny bartender that we’re together and no one other than him and Zeke can buy me drinks. If he thinks I’m going to be content sitting back here while he’s working, I’m going to be upset. I could be sitting at home in my pajamas watching TV.
We sit in the green room chatting with various people for nearly an hour. While I’m grateful Dylan hasn’t left me alone in a room full of strangers, I wonder if there’s not something else that he should be doing.
“Time to go to work.” Dylan’s demeanor changes as I watch him go into business mode. Zeke and I follow him out to the bar, taking our place in the VIP section. With a tender kiss and a long embrace, Dylan leaves me, promising he’ll be back as soon as he can.
The first band takes the stage and Zeke leans over to tell me this is the band they’ve been working with. They’re good. The music is much harder than anything I would typically listen to and it’s far too loud, but it’s good. I focus on the words and realize that the songs I wouldn’t normally give a chance actually tell amazing stories.
It doesn’t take long before I’m dancing with the rest of the women in our section. If I thought I felt like I was reclaiming myself last week, I have no clue what I would call tonight. With a slight buzz from two strong drinks, I feel certain that tonight is a real turning point. Tonight is the first night of the rest of my life. And hopefully, it will end with Dylan and me finally having sex until the sun comes up tomorrow morning.
Between sets, Dylan comes back to check on me. While I know it’s important for him to make sure everything is going well with his show, I appreciate that he’s finding a way to steal a little time with me.
“I’m sorry you have to spend the night with Zeke,” Dylan says sweetly as we head outside to escape the stifling heat and sweaty bodies. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” The mischievous grin on his face bolsters my confidence. Tonight is definitely the night.
“And how do you plan to do that?” I ask playfully.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he smirks, grabbing my hips and pressing me against the wall before capturing my mouth in a passionate kiss. I breathe deeply through my nose, reminding myself that Dylan isn’t Nick and his is an act of lust, not of anger.
Dylan tugs at the hem of my tank top and I look around to see if anyone is watching us. If Nick had ever tried being intimate in any way while we were in public, I would have batted his hands away telling him to stop. With Dylan, I’m pretty sure he could pull down my pants and ram himself inside of me and I wouldn’t think twice about it.
I feel the warmth of his hands against my back but he makes no move to go any further. I want more. Lord help me, I want him to move his hands around to cup my breasts. I want to feel his thumbs taunting my hypersensitive nipples. What is it about Dylan that has me jumping out of my comfort zone this way?
“Are you still okay?” He asks after breaking our embrace. I wonder what he’s talking about, but when I see his eyes glancing at the rope, I know what he’s asking.
“Yeah, I’m good.” And I am. I’m not freaking out anymore. I’m still a bit self-conscious, but given some of the outfits I’ve seen tonight, I don’t feel out of place. “Thank you.” The words feel inadequate.
Dylan doesn’t know that I don’t even wear a watch because anything restrictive on my arms makes me uneasy. I’ve shared very little of what triggers the bad memories and yet he’s found a way to ease me past them. If he walks out of my life tonight, next week or next year, I will forever be in his debt.
“I’m glad. And what about standing like this? Is that getting any easier for you?” His hips press against mine, grinding just enough to make me moan. My eyes grow wide as I tilt my head up to survey the expression on his face. I shake my head slowly and he pulls me away from the wall.
The cool air against my back makes me almost mourn the pressure that I used to fear. “Dylan,” I sigh. “You were fine. That’s not why I was shaking my head.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting him to feel the way my heart is pounding a furious rhythm in my chest. He does these little things that make me want to fall for him and that scares me.
“Then maybe you need to tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours.” Zeke pokes his head out the door, letting Dylan know it’s almost time for him to go back inside.
“You amaze me sometimes,” I admit. “The way you know what’s going on with me, even when I try to hide it from the world. You make me feel comfortable in situations that normally scare me. I just don’t understand how I can feel this way so quickly.”
“Because Precious, there’s something special going on between us. I’m not willing to put a label on it, but I told you I felt it as soon as I saw you. It’s about time you get on the same page.” I smack him in the chest for being so sure of himself. “Come on, I have to get back inside.”
This time, our trip through the bar is much different. The crowd is rowdy and it’s apparent that many of them know exactly who Dylan is. They congratulate and thank him for bringing such a talented line-up to town. My heart swells with pride for him and Zeke. My guys are obviously damn good at what they do and I love that other people see that.
Your guys? Now you’re laying claim to both of them? What happened to not allowing yourself to get attached?
“Hey,” Zeke chuckles. “You in there?”
He’s standing in front of me with his arms crossed and Dylan is gone. I kick myself for zoning out again, this time missing out on the opportunity to get another kiss from Dylan before he left to do whatever it is he has to do.
“Sorry, guess I drifted a bit.” I shrug, not knowing what else to say. I’m surely not going to tell Zeke that I was berating myself for calling both of them mine.
It’s confusing because when I look at Zeke, I don’t feel the butterflies I get every time Dylan is near. If anything, I’m starting to see Zeke as a big brother type, which is logical since he’s assumed that role on more than one occasion.
“Yeah, guess you did. Come on Betsy, let’s get back up front.” I glare at him, hating that he calls me Betsy more often than he calls me Tasha.
“Don’t call me that,” I protest. “I told you before that I hate nicknames, and I hate that one most of all because I have no clue where it comes from.”
“That’s what Dylan called you when I saw you at the bar last week. Told me about how he met you outside and you were standing there all sweet and innocent.” He stops to ponder something for a moment. “You know, now that I think about it, I have no clue why h
e called you that.”
I do. And knowing what I know now, I suppose there are worse things Zeke could call me. I’ll never forget that first time Dylan talked to me, calling me a modern Betsy Ross because of my outfit. Dylan really has been looking out for me from the moment I caught his eyes. It’s a nice feeling.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I inform Zeke. “You want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. Don’t get in any trouble while you’re gone. Dylan will kick my ass if you do.”
Tommy walks in the back door of the bar as I make my way to the green room. He looks different now that he’s not in uniform. He’s a handsome man, probably in his early thirties. He’s not as tall as Zeke and Dylan, but he has an impressive build. The black t-shirt he’s wearing stretches across a muscular chest, the sleeves look as if they’re biting into his biceps. I wonder how much time these guys spend at the gym to have them looking like this. His light brown hair is cut close on the sides and a bit longer on top. I take another look at the strong lines of his face and wonder if he and Zeke are related. They could almost pass for brothers with those eyebrows and serious bedroom eyes.
“Hey, Tommy,” I greet him. This is the first time I’ve seen him since he left Dylan’s apartment the night my house was broken into.
“Tasha, nice to see you.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. It feels a bit too familiar but not unwelcome. One thing I’ve learned over the course of the past seven days is that the circles Dylan runs in are nothing like mine. His friends have a way of making everyone feel as if they are part of the group, whether it’s the first time they’ve met or they’ve been around for years. And they have no problem being affectionate with one another.
“You too. I’m heading to the bar, you want anything?” I regret asking when I realize Dylan might not appreciate me offering to get someone else a drink when he’s going to be settling the tab at the end of the night.
Unexpected Angel Page 14