by Jodie Becker
Erica didn’t even bother to acknowledge him, her attention riveted on Dylan. He stood stoically silent. As though his “because” were answer enough. As soon as the front door clicked shut, she spoke. “Why don’t you want me to meet your friends?”
Dylan’s stormy gaze stabbed right through her, a fierce set to his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
When he shifted to move away, she snatched at his wrist. “Why not?”
He slanted a furious look toward her, his brows clashed together. “Because I don’t want them around you.”
Erica sucked ice-cold air into her lungs. It stung. It really did. “I understand I said that we’d see where this attraction takes us, but I didn’t expect to feel like some dirty little secret.”
Dylan turned to face her, his warm hands cupped her cheeks. “It’s not that, Erica. Not at all.”
Erica gently held his wrists. “If not, then why?”
Dylan heaved a sigh, his eyelashes fanned downward as an unsteady silence filled the room. “Because you’re too good for them. For me.”
A piece of her heart broke off at the sincerity in his tone. “Dylan, you are good enough.”
He cast his attention to the left. “No. I’m not.”
Without a word, he dropped his hands and returned to the balcony, the subject closed and more questions raised.
Chapter Seven
Dylan stood just inside Joe’s, his sweaty palm clasped in Erica’s. He didn’t know what foolishness brought him here, but he would’ve done anything to reset the mood, even if it meant meeting up with people he’d rather not see again. He scanned the room for a familiar face. Tonight the restaurant bustled with activity, the sound of glass clinking and the buzz of conversation filled the restaurant.
A maitre d’ approached, his black suit as immaculate as his slicked hair. “May I help you?”
“Reservations for Bryce Roland?”
The man checked the bookings, then indicated for them to follow. They weaved between white tables and cream chairs to the back of the room. There sat Bryce, Max, Vane and…Ruby. Shit. Ruby laughed at something Vane said, her manicured nails pressed over his sleeve. As the maitre d’ paused before the table, the group looked up as one. Ruby’s brown eyes lit up with joy then dulled with suspicion as her attention moved beyond Dylan. She tipped back, displeasure displayed by the way her pouty lips turned downward. “Dylan, who is she?”
“My date. Erica.”
Ruby flicked platinum-blonde hair from her face, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Oh really, I—”
“Now, now,” Vane cut in. “Be nice, Ruby.”
A speaking glance passed between the two and she settled back in her seat and sulked like a misbehaving child. Dylan tightened his hand over Erica’s before he pulled a chair out for her. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
Dylan settled into a seat beside Bryce, more comfortable with the distance he put between his whoremonger friend and Erica. Vane sat beside Erica, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“Long time no see,” Vane said, his elbows propped on the table, blue eyes alight with intent.
Dylan picked up the menu, despite having a distinct lack of appetite. “I’ve been busy.”
Vane leaned forward. “Is that—”
A waiter sauntered up and stopped by the table, his presence alone cutting off whatever Vane would’ve said. “Ready to order?”
“Yes,” Dylan said. After a quick perusal, he placed his order.
A tense silence fell over the table as the waiter left and Ruby picked up a glass of water.
Bryce patted Dylan on his back. “Since we missed your birthday, bud, Max and I got you something.”
Bryce reached beside him and placed a bottle of wine on the table. Dylan recognized the Screaming Eagle logo. This wasn’t a cheap purchase.
“From Napa Valley,” Bryce said. “Remember, we ordered this very vintage. Got smashed. Not our finest moment.”
Dylan chuckled, his fingers wrapped around the neck. What had started off as a miserable day had ended with drunken revelry and a lot of “I love you, mans”. It was the night Dylan first became at peace with his choice and settled comfortably in his friendships.
Dylan pinned Max with a mock serious stare. “What stays in Vegas sometimes doesn’t, hey man?”
Max laughed, his green eyes glinted with mirth. “Hey, that chick was crazy hot, you can’t blame me for hitting that.”
Bryce swiped a hand over Max’s black locks, knowing how much he hated it. “She was just crazy.”
Max knocked Bryce’s hand aside. “Not my fault she felt the pull to follow me.”
Dylan shook his head. The groupie had traced Max back to LA and pursued him with stalker intent. Life was hell for all roommates involved, Dylan included. A restraining order and hissy fit later, life settled back to normal.
“Thanks for the wine.”
Bryce shrugged and leaned back in is seat. “No problem. You and your gal can enjoy yourselves later with it.”
He did enjoy the robust flavor of the Merlot and doubted Erica would’ve had a chance to taste a wine like this.
“You never told me how you met this lovely lady,” Vane said, his assessing stare on Erica.
Erica smiled prettily. “I’m his neighbor.”
A brow cocked upward. “Really? You have a delightful accent. Tell me, where are you from.”
“Georgia.”
“None of your damn business,” Dylan said as Erica spoke.
A silent groan moved through him when Erica threw him a wide-eyed stare. No good would come of Vane knowing where he lived, he knew that much. He heaved a breath. It didn’t matter now.
Vane continued, a sly grin on his face. “How are you finding LA?”
Erica beamed, unaware she’d been maneuvered. “It’s wonderful so far. Dylan promised me a walk down the beach later.”
“Really. Do you know how long you’re staying?”
“Just the weekend.”
He tsked in a sound of disappointment. “Well that’s a shame. My company is having a get-together next week. A kind of sexy masquerade, perhaps you’d like to come?”
Dylan slammed his fist down on the table, upsetting forks and knives. Anger burned in his chest as he glared at Vane’s deceptively innocent face. “That’s enough.”
“It’s just a party,” Vane said in mock offense.
Like hell it was. Dylan knew the kind of “party” they had once a month. An orgy streamed live for online members to watch. Carefully selected actors were chosen to attend for a smorgasbord of sex. Fuck, even he had enjoyed it. If he was in a particularly rough mood, he could find a woman or even two who would oblige him. No, he wasn’t going to let Vane lure Erica into that world, or try to destroy his pocket of happiness.
“We’re not interested.”
Erica fingered a napkin, attention fixed on her cutlery. Damn it, he’d upset her. Striving for calm, he slipped his hand beneath the table and touched her thigh. The muscles quivered, but she didn’t pull away.
“Erica and I have things to do next weekend at home, anyway,” Dylan amended with strained civility.
“How’s suburbia treating you?” Vane asked.
Dylan narrowed his eyes. “It’s been a good change for me.”
Ruby made a sound of disbelief but otherwise remained silent.
Vane nodded slowly. “Any chance you’d come back to work?”
“No. I’m happy where I am at the moment.”
“I can’t see how you would be. You must be dying of boredom. Small towns are for hicks and yokels,” Ruby inserted with a snide tone.
Erica’s features remained politely curious but she sat ramrod straight, a sign of her discomfort. A bubble of frustration rose to the surface. “I think we made a mistake coming here. Erica, ready to go?”
As he stood, he helped Erica up.
“You think you’re so enlightened, don’t you?” Ruby hissed as she knocked away Vane’s
hand. “But you aren’t. You’re no better than any of us.”
“Ruby. That’s enough!” Vane snarled.
Her mouth snapped shut, but she spoke her dislike clear enough by the glare directed at Erica. Dylan pressed his hand on the small of Erica’s back and led her from the restaurant. The cool air hit them first, followed by the salty tang from the ocean. He wrapped his arm around her and brought her flush against him. Without checking the motion, he kissed the top of her head and inhaled fruity shampoo. “Do you still want to go to the beach?”
“If you don’t mind?”
“No. I don’t mind,” he lied.
He’d much prefer to return to his old apartment and forget about tonight’s disaster. But he wanted to show her some of the natural beauty LA had to offer. Hand wrapped around her waist, he led her down toward the beach, passing people ready for the night ahead. Like most nights, it buzzed with activity, unlike back at Templeton.
Erica hugged her body, a wry twist on her lips. “Ruby didn’t like me much, did she?”
“She wasn’t like this before. Ever since I left the industry there’s been some hurt feelings. I guess I didn’t address them before taking off.”
She cast him an inquiring look. “Is everything taken so personally?”
Dylan cleared his throat. “We…ah, worked very close together. I’ll probably call them later to clear the air. Don’t worry about it.”
Erica nodded and they both fell silent. They crossed over the boardwalk onto the beach, the ocean a black mass of movement. Salt hung in the air and invisible waves crashed onto the shore in a constant rumble.
Erica stopped and Dylan dropped his arm. She bent down and removed her sandals then straightened. Her eyelids fluttered and joy passed over her features. “Ooh. I always wanted to feel the sand between my toes. Beach sand, mind you.”
Dylan blinked in surprise. “You’ve never been to a beach?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “No.”
Humbled, Dylan decided to follow suit and removed his shoes. Hand in hand, they sauntered down to the water’s edge. The crashing waves were louder now and Erica dropped his hand to chase a wave as it receded. Another came over it and she squealed in delight and turned tail to run back. Dylan grinned. She was like a child. Full of exuberant delight over the simple things.
He watched her for a full minute running after the waves and laughing as she tried to avoid the backsplash. She had a few near misses, but always managed to evade the ocean’s grasp. Taken on a whim, Dylan dropped his shoes and followed after her as she ran back toward the shore, her eyes alight with joy. He latched onto her waist and chuckled as she squealed. He moved a few steps forward. The wave crashed into their thighs, Erica’s scream intermingled with giggles.
“Oh I’m wet!”
Dylan kissed her shoulder and scooped her up to save her from another frigid wave. “What did you expect chasing waves like that?”
Her arms wrapped around his neck. “I didn’t expect you to drag me in here!”
Dylan smirked. “No dragging required.”
His arms dropped as another wave came through. She squeaked and bounced in an attempt to avoid the water, but it was too late. Hands on her waist, he brought her into his body and kissed her. She tasted of salt and desire. Her arms curled around his neck and he delved inside, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. He teased her tongue and suckled, his hands pressed on her lower back. Everything receded and the cold waves ceased to matter. Warmth suffused his body and lodged in his chest as Erica moaned in delight. His dick thickened and throbbed in painful need. He wanted to take her in the sand. To feel the waves lick at his toes while he made love to Erica’s luscious body.
He broke the kiss to peer into glazed eyes. “Care to hold that thought ’til we get back to the apartment?”
She licked her lips and nodded. Hell yes. Hand wrapped around hers, they ran like horny teenagers from the beach and back to the apartment.
The moment the door shut behind him, Erica threw herself into his arms. Dylan grunted and wrapped his arms around her, accepting her kiss and returning it with passion. He cupped the back of her head and forced her to open beneath him. His tongue teased and retreated. Lapped just the inside of her lips in quick little flicks before he tasted what lay beyond. Her breasts rubbed against his shirt, the hardened nubs of her nipples pressed against his chest. Hands pulled at his collar and he laughed against her mouth before breaking off.
“I want it off,” Erica said, her tone breathy and desperate.
Without a word, he shucked off his shirt. Her appreciative purr shot a slice of hot desire right to his dick. She trailed reverent hands over his chest, the awe in her face and the feather touch of her fingertips setting his desire ablaze. His dick hardened to the point of pain. He wanted her. Wanted to ravage her body and hear her scream. Dylan drew her into him to nibble on her neck. Her pulse raced beneath his tongue and he applied gentle pressure before lapping at her salty flesh. Erica panted, nails raked up his back and the sting merged with hot need, making him groan.
He traced his palms up her soft arms and hooked his fingers beneath the delicate shoulder straps. With one decisive jerk, the fabric snapped from the seams and the dress fell in a pool around her legs. Hot damn. He devoured the lush sight of her in the underwear he’d picked. Sky-blue lace barely concealed her curvaceous body. His mouth watered at the vision of Venus De Milo. Flaming hair and pert tits. Her creamy skin glistened in the light and he wanted to taste every part of her. He cupped her silky breasts, the pad of his thumb skimmed over her nipples through the delicate lace. The demi-bra barely covered the pinkened flesh and with one push, her breasts spilled over into the palms of his hands. He suckled a breast, rolling the hardened nipple between his teeth then applied enough pressure to cause a bit of pain. Only enough to heighten her pleasure. Erica’s whimper set him on fire. His dick ached to be inside her and it threatened to bring him to his knees.
God, he couldn’t stand to wait anymore. He’d teased them both long enough that all he did was ache. Ache for her. He picked her up and carried her into his room, the light from the living room cut a sharp line across his bed. Knees on the edge of the mattress, he lowered her to the sheets and looked his fill. Her fiery hair fanned out across the pillow, her eyes hot with pent-up desire. One of her legs cocked up and he wanted to lick a line from the back of her knee right down to her pussy. Jesus, she had such white, perfect skin. Freckles speckled her body and he wanted to kiss every single one.
Wordlessly, he slipped his thumbs under the elastic band and pulled her panties from her in one smooth move. Her feet kicked up to help and he grasped a petite foot. Staring down at her, he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her arch. Her toes wiggled and he nipped at one as she giggled.
“That tickles,” she pouted.
Dylan grinned and kissed a line up the back of her calf to make little circles behind her knee. Her snicker became a stuttered gasp. His dick screamed at him to fill her and find his pleasure, but he withheld. His fingers slid up and down her inner thigh. Erica writhed under his touch, the muscles quivering beneath his hand. Eyelids at half-mast, she rocked in silent command. She wanted him.
Hiding his smile behind her leg, he kissed that sweet spot behind her knee as he swept his fingers over her. Back and forth, a light brush over her clitoris. Erica writhed and clutched at the pillow in desperate need. The smile dropped from his face as he became enthralled by the sensual byplay of his own making. She was a goddess. A seductress and jezebel. He released her foot and fondled her flesh. The pad of his fingers slipped over the button of her desire and along her swollen lips. He shuddered as a gasp of pure need left him.
Damn she was so wet. Erica whimpered, clutching blindly at the sheets. Leaning forward, he pressed two fingers into her cunt, finding the place all women loved. The walls of her canal gripped him and the juices gathered on his knuckles. Fully imbedded in her sweet sex, he circled his thumb over her clit. Her gasping breath pierced t
he tense silence. The scent of her flowery perfume and her sex intermingled, flavoring the air. Erica muffled a shriek, back arched as a tremble moved through her frame. His dick pressed painfully against his jeans.
Erica made sounds only a woman familiar with her own pleasure did, sounds he was well familiar with, but the effect of it floored him. His heart pounded at her whimpers and his chest felt as though it’d implode with joy. She stabbed him with a look of a practiced porn star, but with an undertone of emotion he often found lacking in his bed. Shit, he shouldn’t be doing this with her. She deserved more than this. More than someone like him. He wanted to listen to the voice of reason, but his cock would have none of it.
“Please, please,” she begged on a broken breath.
Dylan plunged his fingers in and out of her beautiful pussy. The wet sound of her sex and her whimpers made his penis jerk and rub against the rough fabric. God, he could come like this alone. He was pathetic. A practiced performer in sex, he was about to come like a teenager.
Erica levered up and reached for him. Her small hand latched on to his pants and she unhooked the buttons and wrapped her hand around his girth, pre-cum making her grip slippery and delicious. Dylan’s eyes slid shut. His balls tightened and ecstasy raced down his shaft with every slide of her hand. He worked her in tandem, thrusting in time in an erotic foreplay. His hand planted over her shoulder and he stared down at her, capturing every play of emotion over her face. The little pout of pleasure, a gasp of need and a moan of a mini-orgasm. Fuck yeah.
The whisper of fabric didn’t register until he felt cool air touch his ass. She grasped his butt and pulled him toward her. Her soft belly touched the head of his cock and he bit back a curse as pleasure spiraled down his dick. He glanced down at her hand and experienced a momentary stab of pain as a drop of pre-cum stained her skin, but she only worked harder, making him moan in white-hot need.
“Enough,” he rasped, his hand on her wrist.
Erica blinked at him owlishly. “Why?”
“I’ll come if you go any further.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” she said impishly.