DirtyBeautiful

by Jodie Becker

  Dylan rolled over in his bed and the cool slide of a tear trailing down his cheek reminded him of his misery. Fury threaded through him and he dried his eyes, but loneliness and injustice burned deep in his chest. Judged for his choices and abandoned by his sister, Dylan felt the sharp pain of the past slice his chest. He closed his eyes, taking cold comfort in knowing he did what was necessary to save a life.

  * * * * *

  Erica lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, calling herself an idiot. She’d seen the hot desire in Dylan’s eyes. Her body ached with unfulfilled need and despite knowing it could create a type of awkwardness between them after the fever had passed, she still wanted to go over there and take him up on his offer. She knew the nightcap didn’t involve martinis and a roaring fire. Judging by the way he kissed, sex with him would be hot, heavy and animalistic. She shuddered at the thought and rolled onto her side. The digital clock glared at her. Twelve thirty. Two hours had passed and she still didn’t feel even close to drifting off. Drawn tight like a guitar string, her body vibrated with unspent tension. She clenched her thighs against the dull throb between her legs and groaned.

  Restlessly, she flung herself on her back and decided there was no hope for it. The need for release thrummed through her and pulsed against her clit. Heart racing, she couldn’t squelch the ache inside. She reached under the covers and slid her hand beneath her underwear to touch her wet folds. Delight trilled along her body as the pads of her fingers circled her clitoris. Desire bloomed along her body and made her breasts ache for her hands on them. She held back a mewl as she thrummed the nub, pinching it delicately before rolling her fingers over it. Sheets whispered like phantom fingers, tickling her flesh as she spread her legs apart, her fingers skating over her wet, sensitive lips. Moving her hand lower, she circled her canal. Pleasure flickered over the tender folds and she gasped at the hot coil of heat coursing through her. Dipping the tip of her finger inside, she arched into her touch as she teased her body, pussy juices easing her way. Nerves sung as need pulsed in her womb.

  Gasping on a breath, she fingered her vulva and scissored over her clitoris. The blazing shot of pleasure elicited a whimper of need. Erotic heat seared her skin and condensed in her lower abdomen. With her other hand, she glided along her stomach to cup her breast. Rolling a nipple between her index finger and thumb caused sharp pleasure to spike from that point right to her pussy. Her womb quivered. Fingers moved frantically over the hood of her clitoris as she imagined Dylan touching her. His fingers rubbing her pussy. His teeth raking over her tender breasts. His hot breath on her skin.

  Tingles raced along her skin and she rocked into her touch, her body instinctually seeking release. She flicked a nipple with her nails, a mixture of acute pleasure and the sensual caressing along the lips of her vagina cascaded over her in sensual delight.

  Palm pressed over her chest, she thrust two fingers into herself. Her knees hitched up. The sheet slid along her thighs, cool air touching her hot skin.

  The palm of her hand rubbed against her clit in a sexy slide that made her moan. She pushed her fingers deeper, seeking that hidden bundle of nerves. Pelvis arched, she pushed her fingers deeper, moaning as pleasure vibrated deep inside. The wet sound of her masturbating intermingled with her ragged breathing turned her on. Feet pressed into the mattress, she rocked her body into each thrust. Hot, wet heat coated her fingers. Pleasure quivered, starting from the tips of her toes and racing along her body to explode over her in waves and waves of ecstasy. Her thighs clamped shut over her hand as if to hold the orgasm in place. Muscles tensed and her breathing hitched as she came again.

  “Dylan.”

  Erica opened her eyes as the last tremor shook her body and pulled her hand from her wet body. A wonderful lethargy filled her bones and she sighed happily. At least now she could get some sleep.

  * * * * *

  The next day after work, Erica sat at the café sipping some water. The afternoon breeze ruffled leaves and brought with it the scent of fresh apple pie. Much of her day had been spent trying to settle rambunctious children for the week. As a teacher to second-grade children, her career was both a rewarding and frustrating endeavor and after a day like the one she had, it called for ice cream and Deb’s infamous apple pie.

  A waitress sauntered out with her order and Erica leaned back and smiled. The plate settled before her and sweet apple goodness wafted upward. Eager to try the sweet concoction, she scooped a generous amount on her spoon and took her first bite. Cinnamon, nutmeg and apple burst over her taste buds. Breathing in the syrupy apple and sugary crust, she moaned. Deb had done it again.

  “Is it really that good?”

  Erica startled, a half-shriek, half-gasp making her cough. A heavy hand hit her back and she scrambled for a napkin, tears pinched at the corner of her eyes. Once her fits abated she glared up at Dylan. “It’s rude to sneak up on people, you know.”

  A brow rose. “I wasn’t sneaking. I was at Bill’s and saw you over here and thought to say hello. Nothing sneaky about it.”

  She sipped her water then plunked it down, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her hand shook. Erica could barely look at his handsome face, convinced he’d read her dirty little mind the minute she looked into his eyes. There might as well be a neon sign flashing “I fantasized about you and got off last night” above her head.

  “What’s up?”

  Erica shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing’s up.”

  He slid into the vacant seat opposite her, concern furrowed his brow. “Is it about last night?”

  Erica sputtered. “No.” Not in the way he thought anyway.

  “I know we barely know each other, and last night… I didn’t intend to come on strong like that. And I know I’ve been sending mixed messages, but the truth of it is that I like hanging around you. At the moment, you’re the only friend I have in this town… You and Bill.”

  Erica’s heart ached for the vulnerability apparent in his voice. She couldn’t imagine what it’d be like moving into a town where she knew no one at all. Her network of friendships was what kept her going when times were rough or when she just needed to have fun. Dylan, it seemed, had neither. “There’s a bar around here you might like. All the boys have poker night down there on Fridays.”

  He shrugged and leaned back on his seat. “Maybe.”

  It was about as noncommittal as you could get. “Not a cards man?”

  “I play a mean hand, but I kinda wanna keep a low profile for a bit.”

  Erica chuckled. “Oh that’s rich.”

  Dylan frowned, his gaze flashed with suppressed annoyance. “What’s so funny?”

  “You. You don’t get to have a low profile in small towns like this. The minute you drove up and parked your shiny new truck at Samuel’s, you were public property.”

  Dylan glowered. “It’s not new. It’s two years old and I bought it secondhand.”

  “Oh well excuse me. Shiny, semi-new truck.”

  “I haven’t been bothered too much. Had a few women say hello but that’s not unusual.”

  “It’s the women and married men you have to watch for. They’ll suck information from you like a tick on a fat dog.”

  Brows shot up. “What?”

  Erica grinned. “Trust me, when a guy is fishing for information, it’s not to strike up a deep, meaningful friendship. He’s doing it so his wife will let him play in the bedroom.”

  Dylan laughed. “Are all married women that scary?”

  “You bet.”

  The waitress who served her earlier returned, her pad out and pen in hand. “What are you having?”

  Dylan didn’t even bother with the menu. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

  As the server sashayed away, Erica leaned forward. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m having something to eat. I just finished up helping Bill out with a few things and I’m famished.”

  The answer seemed innocuous enough, but she couldn’t help but wond
er. Was this a friendship or the start of something more? Severing that line of thought, she scooped up some ice cream and ate while Dylan looked on, a strange expression quirked his features. A mixture of pain, embarrassment and something else.

  “What? Have I got pie on me?”

  He blinked, then shook his head, a wry twist to his luscious mouth. “I just haven’t seen anyone so enthusiastic about food in a while.”

  She circled her spoon over the bowl. “Once you taste this, you’ll understand. Here, why not have some?”

  She spooned up a portion of pie with ice cream and held it out to him. Dylan hesitated then leaned forward. His gaze never left hers as he took her offering. How could this guy make eating from a spoon look so sexy? He sat back and licked his lips and her body pinged with repressed desire. “Well?”

  He grunted in appreciation. “It’s good. Really good.”

  “Thought you’d think that.”

  The waitress returned with his order and Dylan dug in. Erica smiled behind her spoon as Dylan hoed into the pie like one of her six-year-olds would to ice-cream cake. After he finished, he leaned back, his hand over his stomach. “Damn that was good.”

  “Now you know. I’m never one to turn down a good pie. It’s goes against my grand scheme for gastronomical world domination.”

  Dylan chuckled. “I guess your motto for overtaking the world is Pi—more than a mathematical constant but an irrational hunger?”

  “I like that—irrational hunger, irrational number.” She snickered, waving her fork back and forth to differentiate between the two interpretations. Erica sighed and scooped up another portion of pie. “What can I say? We’re a town full of aspiring super villains. Some more fluffy than others.”

  Dylan’s shoulders shook with mirth. “No super villain name to go with?”

  She threw him an impish smile. “I told you I could’ve had a hairless cat. That is the ultimate accessory when trying to take over the world. I mean, you’re halfway there with your panty-thieving terrier.”

  He guffawed, a hand pressed to his side.

  “Speaking of which, have you thought of a name?”

  “At the moment I’m just calling him Bud, and that seems to have stuck.”

  “Why hello, Dylan.”

  Erica’s chest tightened and she struggled to keep an impassive mask at the sight of Mary-Mae. She was dressed in all white and the sunlight bounced off the fabric and into Erica’s eyes.

  “I was actually contemplating stopping by your house and thought to swing by here to bring you a pie and here you are,” Mary-Mae said in a false tone of utter surprise. “How serendipitous.”

  Erica wanted to windmill her hands. Hello, I’m here!

  Dylan shot a glance at Erica, then cleared this throat. “That’s kind of you. Erica was nice enough to let me sit at her table and try out the pie here. I’ve heard it’s famous.”

  Ruby-red lips pursed ever so slightly and irritation flashed across her face. “Well, yes. I’m going to have an intimate get-together with some friends of mine this weekend. Perhaps you’ll come?”

  Dylan clicked his tongue “Would love to, but I’m really busy renovating. I’m usually buggered by the end of the day.”

  Mary-Mae shifted in discomfort while Erica crowed inside. Could this be? Is Dylan actually immune to her charms? “Perhaps some other time then?”

  “Sure.” Which Erica thought sounded like a no. Dylan looked at her then. “Want me to walk you back to your car?”

  “S-sure.”

  Wordlessly they stood, Mary-Mae ignored as Dylan dropped some money on the table and stepped over to Erica. He pressed a hand on the small of her back and followed her to her vehicle, all the while her heart tripped crazily. He always smelled of fresh pine, a smell she had started to associate with sex and desire.

  She stopped by her Mini Cooper and turned, catching Mary-Mae’s look of disbelief over Dylan’s shoulder. Erica tried, she really did, but a smirk crossed her features. Mary-Mae’s eyes promised retribution before she marched away in humiliation. It was the best thing to happen in a long while. Sure it was petty, but Erica wasn’t a saint. “I can’t believe you did that!”

  Dylan looked back then shrugged, unconcerned. “The woman’s a viper. Seen enough of her kind to know.”

  Erica clapped her hands. “I could kiss you right now.”

  The minute those words left her mouth, the tension ramped up around them. His eyes flicked to her mouth and she licked her lips nervously. The silence crackled with need and Erica wasn’t sure now if she would be disinclined not to.

  “You’re a really good kisser.” The words were out before she could even register them.

  Dylan didn’t laugh at her, nor even crack a smile. His body vibrated with lust and hers answered in kind if the clear outline of her nipples was any indication. “I like to think that kissing is the most intimate thing a person can do.”

  A laugh bubbled up but she wisely held it back. “What about… You know, intercourse?” she finished on a whisper.

  “Sex is meaningless. A woman may not climax with sex, but to kiss her and make her quiver with need? That takes finesse.”

  Erica blinked, surprised by his conviction. “You can make a woman orgasm by kissing alone?”

  His eyes narrowed at the subtle incredulity in her voice. “I can make you orgasm without touching your breasts or pussy.”

  Heat crawled up her neck and she waved a hand at her face. Wow, that was a statement and a half. Erica wasn’t sure if she was horrified or titillated. “Oh my.”

  He stepped closer, the heat of his body penetrated her clothes and made her knees weaken. His breath tickled her ear, tracking tingles of awareness down her neck to her breasts. “I can make you moan from the thought of me entering you. I can make all your inhibitions disappear. I can make you want me to do things you never dreamed of.”

  She blinked dazedly at him. “I don’t want depraved sex.”

  “Wholesomeness is the best to corrupt. I love it when a good girl goes bad.”

  “Are…are you saying you want to corrupt me?”

  His tongue flicked the lobe of her ear and she bit back a moan. Her pussy clenched with need. “Yes.”

  Suddenly cool air touched her skin and she found herself abandoned by the car, Dylan walking away with an urgency that baffled her. One minute he whispered in her ear with the best sex talk she’d ever experienced and the next he hurried from her as though his heels were on fire. Her heart raced as if she’d run a marathon and frustration soaked her bones.

  “What in the world is up with him?”

  Erica muffled a shriek and twisted around to find Tammy standing on the curb. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Tammy pointed to her hair salon. “You gave those ladies in there quite a bit to talk about.”

  Erica looked over at the elderly women who grinned and waved at her. She dropped her forehead in her hands. “Oh God.”

  “No, no, this is the best thing to happen in like years. We’re all ready for some hot romance to happen in this town. And who better than you?”

  Erica glowered. “There isn’t a romance. It’s a…well, I don’t know what it is, but it’s not a romance.”

  Tammy laughed uproariously, most of it put on for Erica’s benefit. Arms folded, Erica scowled. “Yeah, laugh it up.”

  “Oh honey, if you saw the boner he was carrying, whoo-wee, you’d know. If it ain’t a romance, it’s a real good imitation of one.”

  “Sex doesn’t make a romance, Tammy.”

  Hazel eyes widened. “You had sex already?”

  “No! I’m just saying… Oh never mind what I’m saying. All I know is that he’s just after a friendship with me.”

  Even said out loud it sounded asinine.

  “Oh my poor, misguided pet, you know when he’s all but defiling you on the hood of your car, it’s not a friendship.”

  “Tammy, have you seen him? He turned down Mary-Mae for crying out lou
d.”

  “Yes, only to seduce you right here.”

  Erica opened her mouth but snapped it shut. True, she conceded with a shrug. There was some type of connection going on between them and this wasn’t the first time that he’d done a one-eighty and turned cold. He’d kissed her like nobody’s business and knew his way around a woman’s body. But he hadn’t stepped over the line between foreplay and sex. Then it dawned on her. The reason behind his unusual behavior. “I…I think he might have issues with intercourse.”

  Tammy frowned. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “We’ve kissed a few times—well, twice…three times, no, twice—and every time he looks like he’s gonna do something more, he abandons ship. I thought it was me!” She laughed giddily. “But it’s not. It’s him. He has a mental block when it comes to sex.”

  Tammy nodded. “Ah, mother issues. Well, he was just too damn good-looking to be perfect.”

  Chapter Four

  Dylan returned to Bill’s to pick up a couple of things he needed to start work on the windows. A motor rumbled and a soft shh sound told him Bill worked his lave. He stepped into the work shed, somewhat surprised Bill would leave his shop unattended. Bill sat at his lave, a chisel in hand, working a piece of wood into a fancy leg. The nine-inch width made him wonder just what piece of furniture it was for.

  Bill looked up at him as he approached and he wound the machine down.

  “Sorry, Bill, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m just gonna grab my things.”

  “It’s all right, I was just about finished anyway.” He twisted around on his stool, swiping his hands down his slacks. “I saw you stopped to have pie with Erica.”

  Dylan rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. Even though he volunteered to help out, he still should’ve been more professional about it. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Sorry? What in blue-blazes for?”

  Dylan frowned. “Um, for leaving you to attend the shop alone?”