A Hot Mess

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A Hot Mess Page 11

by Christy Gissendaner


  She swayed forward and braced her hands next to his head. She held her body away from his, but her breasts brushed his chest as their lower bodies strained against each other. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she wanted to close them, but she resolutely kept her gaze locked on Dylan.

  He stared back at her, the irises of his eyes dark with need. Harsh breaths escaped his lips and ruffled the strands of hair near her temples. He let go of her hips and cradled her face between his hands. His thumbs gently caressed her cheeks.

  Cait nuzzled against his palm and then pressed a kiss to the base of his thumb. Her gaze returned to Dylan. It was erotic to watch his face as he moved within her. An invisible string tied them together, coiling around them and wrapping them in a tight embrace. She wished this moment could go on forever.

  She knew Dylan was close to coming. His breath came faster and faster, his hips lifting in a frenzied motion. She ground down hard on him, keeping him deep within her before lifting her hips and doing it all over again.

  “Cait,” Dylan growled in a warning voice.

  “Come, Dylan. Come for me.” Cait leaned forward and kissed him, her tongue boldly seeking his.

  Dylan moved his hands to grip her hips tight, his hips arching beneath her as he sought his release. When he came, he broke the kiss and gave a harsh cry.

  Cait continued rocking her body on top of him, seeking her own release. An orgasm burst upon her, and her head sagged forward as tremors vibrated through her body. Random muscles twitched deep inside her as she fell onto Dylan’s chest and struggled to regain her breath.

  Dylan crossed his arms around her back and cradled her to him. His cock was still inside her, half-erect and sending shivers along her sated flesh. With her body satisfied for the moment, Cait’s brain went into overdrive.

  What would happen in the morning? When it was no longer Valentine’s Day, would Dylan continue to seduce her? And what about when they went home in a couple of days? What would happen when they were back in Atlanta?

  Cait’s brain whirled with possible scenarios. Dylan could decide to chalk their time up to her needing a rebound romance, despite his claims to the contrary. Or he could try for a relationship, which is what he seemed to want.

  She hated the thought of the first option but was frightened the second could lead to disaster.

  * * * *

  A cheery ringtone broke the silence of the dark room.

  Dylan came awake with a start, and it took a moment for him to remember where he was. Then it came to him. He was in Vegas with Cait.

  The object of his desire lay curled against him, her smooth limbs tangled with his. Her head was tucked beneath his chin.

  Dylan gazed at Cait, wishing he could remain where he was, but he recognized the ringtone. It signaled that his childhood friend Paul, Cait’s old high school dance partner and now a high-powered editor for a New York fashion magazine, was calling.

  Paul only called for two reasons. One, there was an important shoot he needed Dylan for. Or two, he was in Atlanta and wanted to go out for drinks. Since it would be too late for drinks, it meant Paul was calling for business purposes.

  Dylan disengaged himself from Cait and tossed the covers away from his bare legs. He slid off the bed and covered Cait back up. He crossed the room to pick up his pants off the floor and dig in the pockets for his cell phone.

  The phone had already stopped ringing by the time he found it, but Dylan unlocked the screen and hit redial.

  Paul answered almost immediately. “About time, man. Are you still in L.A.? Fucking an actress I bet.”

  “You would lose that bet.” Dylan kept his voice low as he crept toward the bathroom. He didn’t want to wake Cait. “I left L.A. a couple days ago.”

  “Thank God. I need you in New York, like as of yesterday.”

  Dylan shut the bathroom door behind him and propped on the counter, cradling his smart phone between his head and shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  Paul’s sigh came out loud and clear on the phone. “Fucking rival magazine stole our headlining article, and we’re replacing it. The only problem is I need new pics. How soon can you be in New York?”

  Dylan’s sigh was just as heavy as Paul’s had been. “Now is not really a good time.”

  “No. Don’t tell me that, man! I’ll owe you big time.”

  Dylan pressed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. Paul was a friend, and he hated to leave him in a bind. “How soon do you really need me there?”

  “Today?”

  Dylan groaned. “Today? Are you serious?”

  Paul’s tone turned serious. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need you. You know that.”

  “I know you wouldn’t.” Dylan blew a rush of air past his lips. “I’m in Vegas right now, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Vegas?” Paul gave a sharp whistle. “What are you doing in Sin City?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time.” Paul laughed. “Have you been hooking up with the showgirls?”

  Dylan chuckled. “What is it with you and your obsession with my sex life?”

  “I like to live vicariously through you, brother.”

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but no showgirls either.” Dylan paused and wondered how much he should say about Cait’s botched elopement. He decided he wouldn’t say anything about it. “I’m here with Cait.”

  Paul whistled again. “Well, well. What have we here? Have you finally grown balls and told that girl you love her?”

  Dylan chuckled at Paul’s good-natured ribbing. After fifteen years of friendship, he was used to it. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Ah ha, so you haven’t. Man, just tell her already.”

  Dylan had met Paul during his freshman year of high school when they were assigned to be lab partners. It had not taken long for Paul to discover Dylan’s feelings for Cait. “It’s not that easy, Paul. This is Cait we’re talking about.”

  “I still think you should tell her. Do it now. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

  Dylan grimaced. Not so perfect. The specter of Simon still lingered. “I’ll see,” he muttered just to get Paul off his case.

  Paul cleared his throat. “I hate to ruin your vacation, especially since you’re with your dream girl.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Dylan answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He disconnected the call and let out a low curse. The last thing he wanted was to leave so soon, but he’d never been one to ignore his professional duties. He knew Paul would not hold it against him if he decided not to fly to New York, but Dylan hoped Cait would understand. Maybe he could even convince her to go with him.

  With that thought in mind, he opened the door and went back to the bedroom. Cait was awake, and she rolled onto her back and gave him a sleepy grin. “Who was that?”

  Dylan tossed his phone on the dresser and went back to the bed. “Paul.”

  Cait’s adorable face scrunched into a frown. “Is he in Atlanta?”

  Dylan sat down on the bed and reached for her hand. “No.”

  He could tell when Cait pieced it together. Her face fell. “When do you have to go?”

  “Today.” He shifted, so he could lie beside her. He draped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “I’m sorry.”

  She averted her gaze. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “I don’t want to go.” Dylan leaned over and kissed her. “Not unless you want to go with me to New York.”

  Cait’s eyes widened. “To New York?”

  “Yes. Why not?”

  “Uh…” Cait’s mouth stayed open, but no words came out.

  Dylan tugged on the cover and revealed her breasts. He toyed with her nipple. “Come with me, Cait. You still have a few days until you have to go back to work.”

  “Dylan, I can’t just jet off to New York at a moment’s notice.”

  Dylan lifted a brow. “I’m
sorry. Remind me. Did you plan this trip to Vegas?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “That was different. I was eloping. Plus, you see how that turned out. It was a disaster.”

  Dylan felt like someone had sucker punched him in the solar plexus. “A total disaster?”

  Cait let out a frustrated huff of breath. “You know what I mean. I’m just saying this trip didn’t turn out like I thought it would.”

  “For you, maybe.” Dylan wouldn’t change one bit of it. He would spare her the pain she’d suffered if he could, but he was glad her elopement had failed. “I say it turned out pretty well.”

  Cait’s frown disappeared, but she did not appear convinced yet. “You need to work. I will just be in the way.”

  “Come on, Cait. It’ll be fun.” Dylan pressed his point further. “I’ll take you for falafel.”

  She laughed as he waggled his eyebrows. “You know I can’t resist falafel.”

  “I know. That’s why I said it. So … will you come?” He knew he had her when he mentioned one of her favorite foods.

  Cait nodded. “I will.”

  Happiness swamped Dylan. He had not lost her yet. Hopefully he could convince Cait he was the right man for her before their time together was done.

  Chapter 9

  The airport terminal was nearly deserted. Their red eye flight from Vegas, the last flight of the day, and the earliest one they’d been able to catch, did not reach New York until three a.m. The long night before and the late flight had exhausted Cait. She’d even been too tired for her fear of flying to set in. If not for Dylan holding on to her arm, Cait doubted she would be able to see her way to the exit.

  Cait did not know why she kept delaying the inevitable. Soon Dylan would wake up and realize their idyllic affair was over. She would return to Atlanta and her boring life, and Dylan could go back to his playboy ways.

  There was a town car waiting for them. Cait slid into the luxurious leather seat and immediately kicked off her pink heels. She wriggled her toes and sighed as feeling returned to them.

  Dylan got in behind her and shut the car door. He sent a pointed glance at her feet. “No more being stubborn. As adorable as your pink heels are, I am buying you new shoes in the morning.”

  Cait stuck out her tongue at him. “It is morning.”

  “You know what I mean.” Dylan slid his arm behind her on the headrest. “How about a nice pair of sneakers?”

  “I don’t wear sneakers,” Cait retorted with a huff.

  “You used to,” Dylan pointed out.

  Cait grimaced. “A long time ago. I also used to wear jeans with grass stains on the knees.”

  Dylan’s lips quirked into a smile. “You were quite a tomboy back then.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me! It’s taken me years to bury the image, and I don’t want to go digging it back up again.”

  Cait turned her attention out the window and watched the blur of the passing scenery. Atlanta was a big city, but she was still intimidated whenever she came to New York. There was nothing to compare to it in her mind.

  Dylan’s arm moved, and he cradled it behind her head. “Take a nap, Cait. I’ll wake you when we reach the hotel.”

  Cait was exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest in a moving vehicle. The excitement of being in New York energized her. “I’ll wait until we get there.”

  “Suit yourself.” Dylan tapped the end of her nose. “I have an early shoot. Do you want me to wake you in…” he broke off to check his watch. “Three hours? Or do you want to sleep in?”

  Cait’s body screamed at her to choose sleep, but she had not seen Dylan at work in years. She had never seen a fashion shoot, and it sounded fun. “I would like to come with you, if that’s all right?”

  Dylan’s eyes roved her face as if he looked for signs of exhaustion. “Are you sure you’re not too tired? You haven’t slept much the past few days.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Cait poked his lean belly with the tip of her finger.

  Dylan captured her hand and brought it to his lips to press a tiny kiss on the back. “Yours.”

  Cait drew back in astonishment. “Mine? Excuse me?”

  He laughed, and the glow of the passing street cars illuminated his face. “Yes, yours. For being so damned sexy I can’t resist you.”

  Cait rolled her eyes. “Sheesh, Dylan. You’re full of it.”

  “What? You think I’m lying?”

  “No.” Cait shook her head in a slow, dramatic fashion. “I think you need glasses.”

  “Don’t put yourself down.” Dylan covered a yawn with his hand. “You’re one of the most beautiful women I know.”

  Cait was too tired to argue, so she let the subject drop. Dylan’s yawn was contagious. Cait fought them, but she lost the fight, and several loud yawns escaped her. She was just about to doze off when the car came to a stop at the entrance to a glitzy hotel. She cast a look at the elegant brick façade and smartly dressed doorman and nudged Dylan with her elbow. He’d apparently fallen asleep.

  He jerked to attention when she nudged him a second time. “Huh? What is it?”

  “Morning, sleepy head.” Cait pointed toward the entrance as she stuffed her feet into her heels. “We’re here.”

  Their bags were unloaded—including the brand new set of luggage Dylan had bought her, since there was no telling where her bags were. Hopefully they would be at home when she arrived. Check-in went smoothly since there was no line, and soon they found themselves in a lavish penthouse suite.

  Cait twirled in a circle and whistled. “Wow. I bet this room costs a pretty penny.”

  Dylan pinched her ass as he passed her. “I wouldn’t know. Paul put it on his tab.”

  Cait trailed after him, leaving the sitting room and following him into the separate bedroom. The room was decorated in a French fashion, gold and cream furnishings with gilt trim that appeared as if they cost more than what she made in a year.

  Cait tossed her purse in the general direction of the dresser and walked forward to fall face down on the soft, luxurious bedding.

  “Heaven,” she moaned into the plush comforter. She kicked off her heels and snuggled higher up the bed.

  The mattress dipped, and she turned her head to see Dylan sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes were heavy lidded, and he looked as if he would pass out any moment.

  “Do you need anything?” he asked.

  She lifted her head and shook it as best as she could in the position in which she lay. “Nothing but a pillow.” She snagged one and brought it back to rest under her cheek. “And I’ve got that, so I’m all good.”

  Dylan chuckled as he took off his shoes and then stood to pull off his track pants. Cait’s eyes grew heavy, and despite wanting to stay awake to see the skin he bared, she knew it was only a matter of time before sleep overtook her.

  Dylan stripped to his underwear and then walked over to turn off the light. He came back to the bed and tugged on the covers. “Here, baby. Get under the blanket.”

  Cait shifted from side to side until he was able to tug the cover loose. He slid in beside her, pulled the covers up to their shoulders, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. He tugged her against his body. The warmth from his skin heated her chilled bones. Unlike Vegas, New York in February was miserably cold.

  “Goodnight,” Dylan whispered and kissed the back of her head.

  “Night,” Cait mumbled back. She snuggled into his embrace and gave herself over to slumber.

  * * * *

  The studio was filled with lights so bright they hurt Cait’s eyes.

  She sat in the back of the room and did her best not to be noticed. She munched on the falafel Dylan had bought her on the way to the shoot. How he had found a falafel stand open that early in the morning, she didn’t know. She took a bite and moaned at the flavor that exploded on her tongue. She would miss this when she had to return home.

  The clicking sound of Dylan’s camera drew her attention,
and she set her food aside, so she could pay attention to the shoot.

  Three scantily clad models were draped over a chaise lounge, their perfect faces and bodies angled to create the shot Dylan sought.

  Dylan stood a few feet in front of the models, his camera in his hands and snapped picture after picture. As he snapped, his assistant reviewed the shots as they appeared on a laptop screen. Cait held on to the arms of the director’s chair she sat in and strained forward to watch.

  Each shot was more beautiful than the last. The three models were of varying sizes, but even the largest of them possessed an enviable figure. The sight of the models’ long limbs and flowing tresses filled Cait with jealousy.

  But despite her envy, Cait was entranced by the pictures. Paul’s magazine was showcasing the launch of a new lingerie line by a popular designer, and it appeared uber-sexy. Cait definitely wouldn’t mind owning the black and red bra one of the models wore. Of course, she would need a much larger size.

  “Margot, tilt your head. Yes, a little more to the left.”

  Cait’s attention was caught by Dylan, and the commanding tone in his voice. She’d never heard it before. She focused on him a bit harder.

  Something was different about him. She didn’t know quite what it was.

  “Put your arm behind your head, Tinker. A little higher.”

  Cait watched as each model rushed to do Dylan’s bidding and finally figured out what it was. Dylan had the girls eating out of the palm of his hand. She wasn’t sure if it was his good looks or just his powerful presence, but for some reason these gorgeous girls were acting as if Dylan was God. She’d known he was good at what he did for a living, but not this good.

  Dylan continued capturing shots. He seemed unaware of Cait, or the models’ interest in him. He looked beyond sexy with a fitted, black, button-up shirt tucked into a pair of fashionable jeans. He wore black boots, which was such a Dylan thing to do, and a black leather belt. He looked like the quintessential bad boy, and Cait’s panties got wet just watching him. All he needed was a black leather jacket to complete the look.

  How could she still lust over him to such an extreme after all they’d done the past two days? Cait had never considered herself to be a sex fiend, but since Dylan she’d discovered untapped depths to herself. Perhaps her other lovers had just fallen short, or maybe she’d been too inhibited, but with Dylan she felt willing to try anything.

 

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