DirtyBeautiful

by Jodie Becker

  Dylan sucked in a breath and promptly coughed as food lodged in his throat. “What?”

  She waved a hand at his naked torso, a blush on her cheeks. “I know it’s a bit more…imaginative, but I have fantasies too. I’m not quite as innocent as you think I am.”

  Erica stood there, her eyes expectant, but Dylan had no clue what she wanted him to say. Taking his silence as her cue, she continued. “I think we should have sex.”

  The world disappeared beneath his feet. Dylan’s mouth dropped open and for the first time in his life, he was speechless in the presence of a woman.

  “Not right now. Just…we’ve been dancing around this and we have a great chemistry. Why not see where this goes? If it does go somewhere then great, if not…” She shrugged. “No pressure.”

  No pressure? Was she kidding? She had “Caution” taped all over her sexy body. She straightened and clapped her hands together in a nervous gesture. “Well, either way, I’ll see you later I suppose. I have to go to work so…bye.”

  She sauntered out of the room, unaware that she’d tipped his world upside down and shaken him up.

  * * * * *

  Friday evening came and Erica couldn’t shake the tension that drew taut inside her. Last night while contemplating Dylan’s revelations, she’d concluded why he didn’t want to have sex. It was so clear to her now that she felt foolish for not noticing it sooner. A man who doesn’t have any familial connections, rejected by those he cared about. He was frightened about putting himself out there. Of course she’d given herself a nice little pat on the back for drawing the clues together. She was no sleuth, but she did a pretty good job if she did say so herself.

  Curled up on the couch, she flicked through the channels before she settled on a bake-off between two chefs. In a break in between advertisements she heard a click, click. Frowning, she stuck the television on mute and listened harder. Click. Click. It came from the window at the back of the room. She walked around her couch and peered outside. Dylan stood in his yard, throwing little pebbles at her window.

  She pulled it open and leaned on the sill. “What are you doing? There is a perfectly serviceable door a few yards away.”

  He grinned. “I thought this would be more romantic.”

  Erica’s heart fluttered. “I suppose, but do you want me to throw down my hair? Or climb my trellis? If you are, you’re in for a long wait.”

  “Pack your bags. I’m taking you out for the weekend.”

  “What? Where?”

  He grinned. “I can’t tell you that. It’s a surprise.”

  His boyish eagerness made her smile and without a chat to her good sense she spoke. “All right.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you out front.”

  Hurrying up the stairs, Erica wondered what she should pack and where Dylan could possibly take her at such short notice. She threw off her clothes and dressed in a comfortable maxi-dress and knit cardigan. She pulled a yellow hardtop travel case from the bottom of her closet and threw in various items. The little travel case zipped shut with much finagling on her part, but it was finally closed. She carried the case down and snatched up her keys.

  Outside, she found Dylan propped up against his truck, one leg crossed over the other, hands tucked in his pockets. He looked up and pushed off, striding toward her with an easy grace. He took the case from her. “Quite a large case you have for just a weekend.”

  Erica folded her arms. “You don’t know much about women, do you?”

  He chuckled and Erica scowled, unsure why he found it extremely amusing. Noting her displeasure, he quelled his humor and attempted to appear contrite. An effort lost by the quiver on the corners of his lips.

  “Women like to prepare for all sets of circumstances. I don’t know where we’re going so I had to pack for anything. Hence, the ‘large’ travel case. It isn’t all that big, you know.”

  He threw it into the bed of the vehicle next to a smaller bag not even half the size of hers. “Come on, peaches. Our weekend awaits.”

  * * * * *

  Saturday morning, Erica stood upon a balcony ten stories up, which overlooked Venice Beach. The sun had broken the surface with pink rays of light. Clouds in the distance strayed apart to give way to the sharp blue sky. Hands on the banister, she breathed in the salty air and squealed in delight. She’d never seen the beach before and although it was early and the air crisp, she could see people enjoying the waves. Hair whipped in her face and she brushed it aside, not wanting to lose the view. Still, she couldn’t believe she was here and that Dylan gave her this experience.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Dylan, who stood in an open-plan kitchen setting up two plates of food for their breakfast. “You have to see this. It’s amazing.”

  He looked up, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ve seen it.”

  Erica turned then, the arch of her back against the cool metal rail. “You own this place?”

  “It’s being looked after by a friend before I can sell it, but he’s gone for a job, so I thought why not bring you down.”

  Joy crowded her chest and her cheeks hurt from smiling too much. “You didn’t have to. I would’ve been happy with whatever you wanted to do. This is just too much.”

  Dylan straightened over the platter of fruits. He sauntered around the bench and lifted her hand to kiss her knuckle, a twinkle in his eyes. “But I wanted to take you.”

  “It’s too much,” she protested halfheartedly.

  He indicated with his chin over her shoulder. “Seeing your delight over a beach makes it worth it.”

  Erica faced the ocean again. Palm trees waved in the wind. Warm arms wrapped around her waist and a shiver ran up her spine as Dylan lightly kissed her neck. “Want to go for a swim later?” he murmured in her ear.

  Need pulsed deep inside her. “I didn’t pack a swimsuit.”

  She felt his smile against her skin and trembled. “Nothing wrong with skinny dipping.”

  Erica choked on a chuckle. “I think other people would think differently.”

  He breathed her in, his hands tightening around her. “Wholesome.”

  “You always say that.” Erica turned in his grip.

  Dylan peered down at her, his blue eyes burned bright with want. “It’s what you are to me.”

  His head descended and she met him halfway. Electricity shot through her as she accepted his kiss. He palmed her ass, curving her into his body. Tongues clashed in a heated battle of unadulterated lust. Erica moaned, her arms wrapped around his neck, hands curled in his hair. He suckled on her then soothed her with a gentle exploration. Desire hardened her nipples, the sensitive nubs rubbing against the fabric of her bra. He broke off the kiss, forehead pressed to hers, their short breaths intermingling.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “You’re amazing.”

  Light burst inside her and she tightened her arms around him. She never realized how unattractive she felt with Greg until now. He never told her things like that. They were of the “of course you’re beautiful” sort, as though she’d forced it from him. But Dylan seemed genuine in his affection toward her.

  He dropped his arms and stepped back, his hot gaze raking over her body. His frame trembled as though he tried to shake himself from his fixation of her. He wiped a hand over his mouth. “You ready for breakfast?”

  Taking his offered hand, she followed him inside, throwing a forlorn stare one last time at the beach. She doubted she’d go and swim, but maybe she could frolic in the waves later? The soles of her feet slapped against the cream tile floor and she allowed Dylan to pull out a chair for her. The glass table was positioned in such a way that the diners could still enjoy the ocean views. From all sides of the apartment, the ocean was a prevalent landscape.

  Dylan presented her with a bowl of fruit and she picked at the strawberries. Sweet bursts of flavor tripped over her taste buds. He returned a moment later with scrambled eggs and toast. “Breakfast is served.”

  As Erica ate she contemplated
what this weekend meant for them. They’d arrived last night, but he’d set her up in another room. She’d barely slept a wink, still buzzed over her first plane trip and a cab ride through LA. She felt like the proverbial country bumpkin. Everyone ran around at such a breakneck pace, unlike back home. She considered the reasons for Dylan leaving such a luxurious home for a rundown cottage in a small Southern town, but couldn’t think of why.

  “What made you choose to leave all this behind and come to Templeton? We’re a far cry from this type of lifestyle.”

  Dylan paused, his brows lowered as he contemplated her question. “I just wanted a change. I was sick of this life and wanted to go back to how I felt when I was younger. That innocence.” His intense gaze fell on her, searing her to her soul. “I suppose that’s why you intrigue me.”

  “You must think our town quite insipid compared to here.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “No, actually, I don’t. I grew up in Arkansas. It wasn’t like your town, but it was laid-back and neighbors knew each other. I had fond memories of that and wanted to create it in my adult life.”

  “Really? Why not go back there?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t feel the pull of going back there.”

  Erica read the misery in his eyes. He didn’t go back because his family was there. The family who’d for some reason cut him off because he wanted more. She pushed around the remains of her breakfast and acknowledged she would never leave Templeton for the big lights. She didn’t know if it came from acceptance that the chance had long since passed her by or because she was comfortable with the status quo. “I admire your strength for going out and getting what you want.”

  His eyelids fluttered, taken off guard by her words. “It wasn’t strength. It was desperation.”

  Erica made a commiserating sound. She understood that. Sometimes small-town living suffocated people, but once they left, most returned to their roots. She scooped up another mouthful of eggs. “I could only dream of an apartment like this, or the view. My goodness. Am I going to meet any of your friends?”

  Dylan stood, the chair scraping across the floor. “You finished?”

  Fork midway to her mouth, she peered up at him, shock raised her brows.

  “Good.” He snatched her hand and jerked her up, the utensil clattered on the plate. He dragged her toward the living room and Erica looked back at her half-eaten breakfast.

  “But I wasn’t finished yet.”

  Dylan turned toward her and pulled her into his arms. Flush against him, her protests died in the face of his desire. His hand kneaded her ass and pushed her up against his erection. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders, his head dipped to inhale.

  “God, you smell so good,” he said, his voice a low rumble. A shiver of awareness rocked down her spine.

  His tongue thrust inside her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts pressed against him. His groan vibrated against her skin, hot breath tickled her cheek. Warm hands abandoned her buttocks to skim up her back and trace wondrous circles over her exposed upper back. Erica trembled with need, her hand fisted in his silky hair.

  Dylan made a sound of pleasure and he broke the kiss to suck on her lower then upper lip. Their breaths intermingled and his hot gaze sent a sluice of need through her body. He licked her neck and suckled the soft flesh there. A sizzle of hunger pulsed through her. Erica tipped her head back on a sigh. Moisture gathered and made her clitoris throb. His hands settled on her hips and he twisted her around until the back of her calves hit the large ottoman-style coffee table. With a hand on her lower back, he eased her down until she lay on the cool, hard leather.

  Dylan pushed back, hand planted by her head. Erica blinked up at him. His features were tight with barely contained hunger. He swept one hot look over her body and his nostrils flared. “I’ve dreamed of this for so damn long I’m half afraid I’ll wake up any second.”

  Erica fingered his cheek and his lashes dropped as a subtle shudder rocked his frame. “This isn’t a dream.”

  “Thank God for that,” he murmured before searing her with a kiss.

  He tasted of coffee and passion. He titillated her with his mouth, retreating and advancing in tease and denial. With a foot planted on the ground, she rocked beneath him, the sweet friction of his hardness against her soft core made her gasp. Dylan groaned and fisted her skirt to raise it above her waist. Her pussy zinged with delight and she spread her legs farther in silent demand.

  His hot palm settled on her inner thigh and slid closer to the edge of her panties.

  “Yes, yes,” she groaned.

  He bent his head and his hair tickled her forehead. Irritation and desire moved her in separate directions as his finger wrote errant circles on her thigh, just beyond the place she needed him the most. Back arched, she gripped his hair and pulled his head back. His hiss cut through the air, but his eyes flared wide with wicked desire.

  “Touch me,” she demanded.

  His lips parted in a predatory grin as he complied. Elastic stretched and cool air touched her hot, moist sex. He brushed her clit and ecstasy hummed along the little bundle of nerves. She quivered. The scent of her desire swamped her senses. White-hot need surged and a whimper left her. This is what she wanted. His deft hand slipped over her tender core and thrummed her clitoris. Nerves fired to life and skittered over her skin. She wanted more. Needed more.

  He slid his fingers over her vulva, circling the canal before gliding his wet fingers over the hood of her sex. He pinched the nub and she gasped at the hot blaze of pleasure, her hips undulating. With his free hand, Dylan grasped the shoulder strap of her day dress and kissed the exposed portion of her breast. His tongue slid along the line of her bra. Shifting his body, he forced her legs to part before he thrust two fingers into her. Erica gasped, struck silent by the pure bolt of pleasure. Expert fingers found her G-spot with unerring accuracy. Eyes wide, she reveled in the blatant need written in harsh lines over his features. He pistoned into her, slowly at first, each slide touching the hidden ball of nerves. Every upward thrust sent mini-explosions in her womb and made her muscles quiver. Levered on her elbows, she dipped her head back and braced her body for each precious, glorious thrust. Heat tingled over her. She was close. A deep growl rumbled over the air.

  “Please, please,” she begged.

  “Oh shit, sorry!”

  That wasn’t Dylan. Erica’s eyes snapped open as Dylan cursed, pulled from her and dropped her dress over her thighs in one smooth move. Instantly on his feet, he twisted to face their intruder, while Erica remained in stupefied shock propped on the ottoman. A man stood beyond the hall entrance, his blue eyes wide. Behind him a woman hovered, her face turned away. A small mercy when one considered how close they came to walking in on both Erica and Dylan naked. Erica sat up and brushed an unsteady hand over her hair, hoping despite the obvious that she didn’t look too disheveled.

  The intruder threw her a cursory glance at best before his attention settled on Dylan. “What are you doing here, man? I didn’t think you’d be back.”

  Dylan glowered. “What are you doing here?”

  The man grinned sheepishly. “I met…Sandra—”

  “Sally.”

  “Right, Sally, at Club 740 and thought we’d…crash here.”

  Erica knew “crashing” wasn’t what they intended to do.

  “Well, there isn’t going to be any ‘crashing’ here. You’re supposed to be checking up on this place, not using it as your little love nest, Bryce,” Dylan snapped.

  Dark brows clashed together. “Does it really matter what I do here? It’s not like you’re around to care.”

  Sally fingered the door, her eyes wide with discomfort. “Um, maybe I should leave?”

  She may as well not have said anything at all for all the attention she was given. Erica’s heart went out to her. Erica stepped forward and forced Bryce’s attention to her as she thrust a hand out, the motion calling a cease-fire.

  “Hello,
I’m Erica. It’s so wonderful to meet a friend of Dylan’s.”

  A dark brow cocked up and his gaze flicked over her shoulder. “Oh right. Dylan.” His smooth hand wrapped around hers and he brought it to his lips. Hot breath skittered over her skin before he placed an airy kiss on her knuckle. “A pleasure.”

  He didn’t release her immediately. Instead he traced an index finger along her palm to draw sensual circles there. Instantly she recognized a regular Casanova. His suave aura permeated the immediate area and promised pleasure in all its forms. Erica pulled her hand away and dropped her eyes from his knowing gaze.

  Dylan’s hand settled on her arm, his thumb stroked over her heated flesh in silent comfort. “Play your games with people who know how to handle you, Bryce. Leave her alone.”

  Bryce straightened, one side of his mouth cocked up in a grin. He held his arms up in mock surrender before his gaze sought hers once more. “How long are you staying, sweetheart?”

  Erica bristled but strived for calm. The basic rule for starting relationships was the friendship foundation and she didn’t want to compromise that with Dylan. “Just for the weekend.”

  Bryce’s mouth fell in disappointment. “That’s a shame. Tell you what, why don’t you come tonight to Joe’s, Dylan’s favorite restaurant, and meet a few of his friends?”

  “I would love to.”

  “No,” Dylan inserted.

  Erica chanced a look over her shoulder to find Dylan glaring at his friend. Perhaps he just expected this to be a weekend fling? The thought stung, but she couldn’t blame him. She did after all give him free rein. Now she cursed her stupidity. If she did make love to him, her heart would be bound to him. A failing in her nature. She could never separate sex and emotion.

  “Why not?” Erica turned toward him.

  Dylan blinked down at her as though surprised she could speak. “What?”

  “Why can’t I meet your friends?”

  A mutinous line set in his jaw. “Because.”

  Bryce chuckled. “I tell you what, I’ll set it up for six thirty and if you show, great. If not, it was lovely meeting you, Erica.”