by Jodie Becker
He’d never kissed anyone unless he cared about them. It was the only part of himself he didn’t give away freely. He wrapped his fingers through her perfectly coiffed hair and jerked her head back to nip at her shoulder. “You’d get down on your knees and suck me off if I asked?”
She whimpered and managed a small nod. A feral grin kicked up his lips. Maybe he should take her back to his place and fuck her. If Erica thought he was some sex-crazed maniac, then why not? Somewhere in the back of his mind something niggled at his alcohol-soaked reasoning, but he brushed it aside.
“You okay to drive?” Mary-Mae asked.
Dylan released her and tottered a bit. “Prob’ly not. You got somewhere nearby we can do this thing?”
Mary-Mae winked. “I came with a couple of girls. How about I drive us back to my place?”
“Sounds good to me.”
He followed her to her car and slipped inside. As she pulled out and drove down the street, Dylan rubbed a hand over her thigh. It was toned and tan, not like Erica’s soft milky whiteness. Damn, he wished he could stop thinking about her. Maybe a hard fuck was all he needed to close the door to that failed relationship for good.
Finally, they pulled to a stop and Dylan stared bleary eyed up at the house. Ah, the time had come. He followed after Mary-Mae as she hurried him up the stairs. A sense of déjà vu overcame him. He’d done this thing before. This time he’d follow through. He was Drake Van Wulf and he liked to fuck pussy.
The moment the door shut he pulled her into his arms and kissed her neck. He tasted powder and the bitter flavor of heavily applied perfume. “I want to fuck you now.”
She laughed and led him into the living room. Leather lounges. Not as smooth or sensual as suede or velvet, but it’d do. He fondled her breasts through the tight fabric and pinched the peaking nipples. She gasped and sighed as he licked the rise of her boobs. Damn, he had to get her naked. His fingers felt like large sausages as he hooked them over the stretch cotton and pulled down to reveal the pinkened tips of her areolas. He knew breast implants when he saw them. They were far too perky, unlike the natural weight of Erica’s. Don’t think about her!
Determinedly he suckled on one nipple, scraped his teeth over it and cupped her ass to bring her into his flagging erection. He pulled her thigh over his hip and they tumbled onto the lounge. Mary-Mae squealed then giggled at the cool leather on her back. Yeah, leather might look good, but it was a pain to fuck on. Oh well.
He traced a hand up her inner thigh and tested her wetness. Her canal tightened. Hell yeah, he could do this. He jerked on her underwear, pulling it to one side so he could dip into her. She fumbled with his pants and cool air hit his dick. Her fingers wrapped around him and he groaned. Something didn’t feel right about this. Sure it felt good, but he just couldn’t find pleasure in it.
Mary-Mae peered up at him. “Is something bothering you?”
Dylan cursed his deadened cock. “No. No, just give me a sec.”
She grinned. “Oh all right.”
He leaned back to masturbate, forcing his cock to attention. He imagined Erica’s hot body and the sounds she made when he made love to her. Jesus, she was so soft.
“Need me to help?”
Dylan gritted his teeth as his erection threatened to wane at the sound of Mary-Mae’s voice and the intrusion of reality. “Don’t fucking speak.”
He shoved her legs apart, ready to give the best performance of his life. “Erica,” he whispered.
* * * * *
Dylan woke to pots clanging and he swore as pain ricocheted through his skull. He tried to stretch but his booted foot hit an obstruction. What the hell? Dylan opened his eyes and stared at the strange surroundings. Damask pillows and curtains filled his vision. The place looked familiar but he struggled to remember where he’d seen it before. At least one thing was certain. He wasn’t home. He pushed upright and clasped his head. Cool air skimmed over his lower back and he sat ramrod straight. His fly was undone. What the hell happened last night?
“Good morning.”
Dylan turned toward the voice and couldn’t hold back a groan of dismay. Mary-Mae stood within the entryway, a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in another. “I hope you’re hungry. I made eggs.”
As she sauntered off, leaving a heavy floral scent in the room, Dylan’s first instinct was to run. Run and never look back. He couldn’t remember what he did last night. He buttoned his jeans and tried to recall something. Anything. But all he could remember was the gasping sounds of her desire. Shit, he fucked Mary-Mae. Any thought of reconciliation with Erica died with that realization. Another thought shot through his brain. Did he use protection?
Only one way to find out. Heaving out a resigned breath, he stood and walked into the kitchen. Mary-Mae shoveled some scrambled eggs onto a plate that sat on a breakfast bench, but he didn’t feel like eating. Instead he accepted the coffee she poured for him.
After he swallowed several mouthfuls he spoke. “What happened last night?”
Mary-Mae arched one manicured eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”
“No. I hate to ask, but did I use a condom?”
“No.”
His gut dropped. “Fuck,” he mumbled, dropping his head forward.
“You didn’t use a condom because we didn’t do anything.”
His head popped up, his brain shooting agony through his skull. Did he hear her right? “We didn’t?”
A wry grin pulled at her lips. “No. You were so drunk you couldn’t…you know. Plus you did mumble ‘Erica’ a few times.”
Damn. Guess he was a dipshit after all.
Mary-Mae patted his hand. “Don’t look so glum. You really were quite nice about it all. Erica doesn’t know what she’s throwing away. And trust me, I know a lot about regret.”
As she turned away to pour herself a cup, Dylan eyed her in bafflement. He always perceived Mary-Mae to be a man-eater. Get what she wanted at all costs. “What do you mean?”
Mary-Mae flicked back a lock of hair and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You make a sad kind of drunk. It’s not exactly a turn-on. Guess we all have things we regret.”
A chill ran down his spine. “What did I say?”
“Nothing much. Just moaned a lot about how you lost the best thing that ever happened to you.” She smiled sadly. “If your previous performance didn’t kill off my need to get laid, then that certainly did.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Hey, you win some you lose some. It happens.”
An awkward silence filled the room. “Well, I guess I better head home. Thanks for the coffee.”
Dylan beat a hasty retreat out the door and grimaced as the light hit him directly in the face. Ignoring the steady pounding in his head he trudged back home. As the sun rose steadily, Dylan wondered if he was holding out on a hope that wouldn’t come to pass. He contemplated his future and the possible paths open to him. Every day for the last few weeks had been pure torture for him. The very thing he wanted in life was there for his taking and yet so far out of his reach.
Finally, he trudged into his yard, but faltered at the sound of a door closing. He looked toward the noise and the breath left his lungs at the sight of Erica on her porch. The sun bounced off her hair and highlighted her milky-white complexion. She looked different somehow, but he couldn’t place it. She walked toward the car, fumbling for something in her bag.
“Hi,” he said.
She stopped, keys in hand, eyes wide as saucers. Like a deer in headlights.
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck to work out a twinge. “How have you been?”
Erica licked her lips. “Good. You?”
“Had better days.”
Jeez, they were talking like strangers. Like they never experienced the sharing of souls or held each other through the night. “I can see that. You just coming home?”
Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets as dread filled his chest. Damn it to hell. He didn’t want to lie to her. “Yeah
.”
“Bill called me last night. Wanted to know if you got home all right.”
Dylan shrugged. “Well I guess I did.”
“Where were you?”
His stomach churned. “At Mary-Mae’s.”
Color leached from her face. “You…you slept with Mary-Mae?”
“I was drunk. Nothing happened.”
“You seem to say that a lot.”
Fury fired in his gut. He’d spent over a month dealing with the town acting as if he had some type of disease and now the woman he wanted most thought he was lower than dirt. “What do you have a problem with anyway? Does my career before meeting you instantly put me in the sleezeball category? Does that nullify what we shared? You would rather throw me to the wolves and believe I’d fuck everything in a skirt rather than think for a minute that I’d be faithful. That I had any depth of feeling.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it?” he snarled. “Your ex-boyfriend, who I might add was the one who cheated and lied to you, came here and showed you some DVDs and I’m out the door with no chance to explain my side.”
“What was there to explain? You did lie to me. You didn’t tell me the woman in your house was more than just a bed partner, was a woman you did things to. You didn’t tell me you were a porn actor.”
“Because I knew this would happen!”
Silence reigned through the yard.
Erica’s lips trembled and Dylan felt like shit. But they’d passed the point of no return. He couldn’t take back anything and if they were going to have it all out, he may as well go for broke. “Whatever my reasons for doing adult films have nothing to do with you. My reasons for leaving are equally less important to our relationship. What should’ve mattered to you is what I am now. Who I am now. But you didn’t want to look deeper, did you, Erica? At the first sign of trouble you wanted out. You are so insulated in this town you fail to see that the world isn’t just black and white. It’s fucking gray.”
“It might be gray, but it’s not my fault if I want my world to be pastel rather than bleak. What’s wrong with not wanting to get hurt anymore?”
“At least when something hurts you know you’re alive. Life is pain, Erica. There is no avoiding it. Whether it be from death, betrayal or the failure of relationships. I fucking know and I’m still here, still trying.”
“Like you did last night?”
That was a damn low blow. “You’d like to play the martyr, wouldn’t you? I’m just a pervert who fucks anything that walks? Well I guess I’ve proved you right, huh? You broke up with me and I spent the night with another woman so I’m a bastard. You’ve ruined me. I don’t want to be with anyone but you, but I can’t have you. What am I supposed to do? Live like a monk for the rest of my life? Who I fuck now isn’t any of your business. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t want I wanted!”
Dylan blinked. “Then what do you want, Erica?”
“I don’t know,” she said softly.
Well there it was. Dylan thrust back his shoulders and staunchly ignored the agony tearing him apart. His headache had expanded beyond a dull throb to bone-crushing pain and Dylan didn’t feel inclined to argue with her anymore. He was done fighting. Done reaching for something he didn’t deserve. “You’re right. We all deserve to be happy, but apparently I’m excluded from that category.”
With that he twisted away and stormed toward his house. It hurt to damn well breathe. Her rejection eviscerated him. Shit, he really needed to get over her. She made her stance clear. She couldn’t be with a guy who used to work in adult films.
Anger began to bubble in the depths of his being. Who the hell was she to judge him for his past? He was done. He slammed the door shut and glanced up at the yelp of surprise. Ruby stood just beyond the living room, a cup of orange juice in her hand. Without a word he marched up the stairs and pulled a suitcase from under his bed. He flipped it open and started to pack his shit up. Drawers opened and snapped shut as he shoved his belongings into his luggage haphazardly.
“What are you doing?”
Dylan glanced up at Ruby, whose eyes were wide with disbelief. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“Are you leaving?”
Dylan resumed packing. “I’m going back to LA.”
“You can’t do that! You like it here.”
He shrugged it off. He liked it once, but not anymore. “Seems like there are some things in this town I can’t stomach.”
“This is about Erica, isn’t it?”
He faltered and shook his head. The mention of her name felt like a gut punch. He couldn’t live like this. Yearning for an illusion.
“Look, let me talk to her. If I just explain everything—”
“No!” He paused and struggled to bring his emotions under control. “No. She decided and I’m done fighting it.”
Ruby frowned. “What…what do you mean?”
“I’m going back to what I do best. Fucking.”
“You can’t be serious. What about this house? You worked your ass off on it. You have friends here who don’t care what you did. Why let her drive you away?”
Because he’d forever be reminded of the one thing he wanted most and couldn’t have. “It’ll be better for me in LA. Trust me.”
Silently he reached into his jeans and removed the house keys then handed it to Ruby. “Feel free to stay here for as long as you want. It’s not like I’m gonna need it. I’ll need you to watch out for Bud until I can organize getting him shipped.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
Dylan zipped up the suitcase and carried it downstairs. All the while, Ruby yabbered at him, but he tuned her out. He opened the door and noticed with some level of relief that Erica had gone. He shoved the luggage in the back of the truck then started the engine. Music blared and Ruby stood by his window, yelling heaven knows what. He stared at Erica’s house one last time, recalling the woman who’d wormed her way into his heart, then ripped it from him. When was he going to learn? He slammed the pickup into reverse and beat a hasty retreat out of Templeton and a future he couldn’t have.
Chapter Fourteen
Erica sighed as she sat at Deb’s and tried to indulge in pie in an attempt to medicate her misery, but her appetite had left her. The last two days had been an absolute disaster. Since her altercation with Dylan, she’d struggled to focus on the children and remain upbeat when his words repeated in her mind. She couldn’t deny that she still wanted him, that the sight of him set off a bone-deep ache inside her. She missed their talks and the way he spooned her at night. That argument was perhaps a culmination of everything that’d passed. It was bound to happen. Not once had she allowed Dylan to say his piece. To make his case or even allow him a chance to make it up to her. Instead she’d cut him off and thought that would stop her pain. But all it did was make it worse. Dylan was right. Life was painful. Love was painful and sometimes one had to ask if it was worth it.
As she pushed at the melted clump of ice cream, she caught murmured conversation.
“He is a monster. He assaulted Greg for no reason. The sheriff didn’t press charges. Said it’s just a scuffle between men, not worth his time to investigate.” She huffed indignantly. “The lack of police integrity has grown rife since Gilbert was promoted.”
Immediately she recognized the voice of dissent. Beverly.
“I don’t know what my son saw in her. If she wasn’t Grace’s granddaughter, I wouldn’t give her the time of day. She should be ashamed of herself. Teaching little children while carrying on with that man? It’s a disgrace.”
“But she isn’t with him anymore,” her companion pointed out.
“It doesn’t matter, clearly her mind has been perverted.”
Unable to take it, Erica stood and faced Beverly. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Beverly twisted around, her jowls wobbling as her mouth dropped open in surprise.
“You
r son isn’t the saint you make him out to be and I’m not about to enlighten you on the depravity he has been involved in. You should remember that my grandmother might’ve been a nice woman, but she knew all your secrets, so if you want to slander me or the people I care about, I’d be very careful about what to say.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Erica leaned forward, a hand pressed over the woman’s chair. “Oh I’d dare all right. I dare you to find something beyond Dylan’s previous occupation to malign him about. You can’t, can you? Because of all Dylan’s faults, I think he cares too much and I’m surprised he stuck around here with you and your vultures spreading your vicious diatribe.”
Erica twisted around and grabbed her bag. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to do something perverted and hopefully win Dylan back.”
Erica marched to her car only to have Mary-Mae step in her path. Frustration and anger curdled in her stomach. Here was the woman who’d poached Dylan when he was vulnerable.
Mary-Mae golf-clapped, a smirk on her face. “About time someone told that bat off.”
Erica frowned. “What do you want, Mary-Mae? You’ve come to gloat?”
A perfect brow rose in surprise. “Why would I gloat?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know he spent a night with you. You’ve been wanting to get your claws into him since he came to town.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You weren’t with him anymore. That made him fair game.”
Erica cringed at the logic. Although they didn’t officially break up, the message she’d sent him was loud and clear. She’d hardly been fair to him since then and now she was feeling the sting.