by Zoey Derrick
“No problem, I’ll get Kensington.”
“Thank you,” I say and end the call.
Looking at my watch again I curse, “Dammit.” It’s only been three minutes since the last time I looked.
I stalk off toward my bedroom and an ice cold shower.
Chapter 26
Ireland
“Kiss Me” - Ed Sheeran
“Dangerous Woman” - Ariana Grande
My ears pop, waking me from my fitful sleep on the plane.
The flight attendant comes over the intercom telling us they’ll be making another pass through the cabin to clean up, yada yada… I zone out, fighting to calm my nerves. I hate landings.
“Would you like some orange juice?” the first class attendant asks me.
“Please,” I tell her then I straighten myself out. The iPad is off because the movie ran out at some point while I was sleeping and I click on it. The Wi-Fi is still connected and I check for an email from Dyson. Disappointment slides through me when I see he didn’t respond to my email. Then I feel like an idiot. New York is two hours ahead of Phoenix. When I got on that plane, it was nearly two in the morning his time. Smile, Vy, you’re about to see him.
I flip over to the music icon and start up his playlist and that’s when Ed Sheeran’s voice comes through and Lego House plays as the flight attendant brings me a glass of orange juice and I drink half of it before setting it on the tray.
The attendant comes back a few minutes later and takes my cup and I pull my iPad off the tray and stick it in the seat beside me so I can keep listening to Dyson’s playlist. Another song comes on I don’t recognize so I hit the button to pull it up, Elliot Moss – ‘Slip’.
We continue to descend and I open the shade of the window to see the city of New York below me. It’s breathtaking to see it. There are piles of white on top of buildings; some look like a fresh dusting happened overnight. The lights on buildings still twinkle bright but the sun is fighting to make an appearance through the grey clouds. The traffic below is picking up as the Friday morning rush hour begins to take shape.
God, what I wouldn’t give to live in a city like this.
The constant hustle and bustle of everyday life. The people coming and going. I can only imagine the air of excitement in a city like this. I haven’t even touched down and I’m already falling in love with New York.
The ground starts to get closer and I sit back in my seat, a little straighter, a little stiffer. I hate this.
Breathe, Vy, I tell myself.
Though I’m not entirely sure if it is the descent that has me wound up tight. Once these wheels hit the ground, it’s only a matter of minutes before I can see him again. My heart starts pounding and the desire I’ve been suppressing since the plane’s doors closed comes raging back. My mouth falls slack as the memory of Dyson’s mouth on mine sends a new thrill through me. I’m in so much trouble.
Finally, the wheels hit the runway and I breathe for the first time in I don’t know how long as the breaks engage and the plane starts to slow.
Then my breathing picks up for a whole other reason.
Dyson.
It feels like it takes forever to reach the gate and then for the doors to open. There are only three of us in the first class cabin so I have my bags before I double check to make sure I don’t leave anything behind and I turn on my phone.
It only takes a minute for it to connect and adjust to the time in New York. Then another second for a text to chime through. It’s Dyson.
Waiting for you in baggage.
I smile and text him back,
I didn’t check a bag.
His reply is instant.
Follow the signs to baggage, I’m waiting. Hurry.
I giggle.
I’m trying, tell them to open the damn doors.
Dyson: On it.
Ireland: Too late, on my way.
Dyson: Thank god, RUN!
My heart is racing in my chest, but not from running, more from his sheer excitement at seeing me and I’m equally as excited to see him and I shouldn’t feel this way. I have no idea what’s going to happen and I’m scared shitless.
I keep trudging through the airport. Jesus, this place is huge.
I see what I’m after- the turn off into the baggage claim area, and my heart speeds up as a huge, panty melting smile greets me and I nearly drop my bags because I want to run to him.
Fuck it.
Pulling my carry-on behind me, I sprint toward him and drop it as I leap into his arms.
“God, I missed you,” he breathes before he slants his lips against mine and the world falls away. Nothing matters but him. Nothing but his lips on mine. He flicks his tongue against my lips, coaxing me to open for him as he places his hand on the back of my head, holding me to him and I slide my tongue along his as I moan.
The taste of Dyson Cole is enough to ignite every nerve ending in my body. He doesn’t slow our kiss despite both of us breathing heavily and I don’t want him to stop, but he pulls back, then kisses me again, then pulls back, then again. I start laughing. “Hi to you too,” I say completely breathless.
“Come on, gorgeous.”
He sets me down then leans down to grab my roller bag.
He stops abruptly. “Do you have a jacket?”
I smile and nod. “It’s in there.” I lean down to get it out and our hands meet on the zipper. That quickly becoming familiar, spark ignites. I pull my hand back, unsure what to make of it, he continues with the zipper and I pull my jacket out.
“Here.” He takes my bag from my shoulder and I slip my jacket on. “Is that all you have?” he asks me.
“I live in Phoenix, remember?”
He chuckles softly. “The car’s out front.” He hands me back my purse and I sling it over my shoulder and he switches hands with my suitcase so he can slide his fingers between mine. I look at our hands intertwined as we walk toward the door. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he inquires.
I blush a little and nod, unsure of what to say. I took a chance on him and slept with him ten years ago and he left me. Now, I’ve flown across the country to a strange place and I have no idea what’s about to happen. I’m both scared and nervous, but somewhere, at thirty-thousand feet, I realized I’m scared of everything. I’ve lived my life being scared of being hurt because I had nothing else to compare it to. I let myself be scared of falling in love with someone who wasn’t Dyson, someone who would hurt me worse than anything he did. But on that airplane, I realized I need to take the risk. Take a chance, and if this weekend is the only weekend I’ll ever get with him again, I’ll take it.
I look up and smile as we walk through the last door and out into the freezing New York air.
I suck in a deep breath. “Fuck me,” I shiver.
He laughs. “Welcome to New York at the beginning of February.” His laugh fades into a smile as he ushers me toward a waiting, sleek black limousine.
“Ms. McKidd, Mr. Cole.” I look at the hulk of a man who opens the door. He’s just as tall, if not a few inches taller than Dyson is, and Dyson is fit – there is no mistaking that, but this guy is huge.
“Ireland, Byron, Byron, Ireland.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. McKidd.”
I smile at him in greeting. Despite the tough, gruff exterior, his voice is sweet, genuine. “Call me Ireland, or Vy.” I extend my hand and he takes it gently in his. There is a stark contrast between his olive skin tone and my red-haired, pale complexion, but it makes me smile.
“Hop in,” Dyson says behind me and I smile again at Byron before I climb into the limo and slide over so Dyson can climb in too.
“He’s huge,” I whisper to Dyson when the door closes.
Dyson laughs, “That he is. But he’s the best man I know when it comes to security.”
I smile knowing Dyson has someone looking after him. I don’t fully understand the extent of Dyson’s wallet, and I don’t care, but I would imagine there are a lot of thi
ngs he needs protection from.
It’s all a bit overwhelming.
Dyson’s warm hand comes to my cheek and I press into his warmth. “You’re freezing.” As if on cue, I shiver.
“I’m alright. It’s just a big contrast to Phoenix.” I smile at him and raise my head when he pulls his palm away.
His eyes are wide and, excited and yet I can sense he, like me, is a little nervous. “I’m going to have to leave you to your own devices for a little while today.” His voice is concerned. “If I’d been a little more reasonable about you coming here, I would have flown you out this morning instead.”
I put my finger to his lips, silencing him. “I’m a big girl, Dyson. I can take care of myself for a while.” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice, but I don’t think I was successful.
“Come here,” he says as he pats his lap. I raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re too far away, princess. Come here.” I smirk at the nickname. Reminds me of when we were kids.
“You use to call me that when you were mad at me.” I look at him with narrowed eyes.
“No, I was never mad at you. I thought you were acting like a snotty little princess.” I laugh as I settle on his lap and he wraps his arms around me. Wrapped in his warmth, I settle my head on his shoulder.
He pulls the beanie from my head to find a mess of curly red hair. Then he finds the clip that’s holding it all in place and my hair falls down my back and he buries his head in my neck, inhaling deeply. “Strawberries,” he breathes as he slowly shakes his head back and forth. “Little did I know you really are a princess.”
“I think you’re bias,” I tell him with a smirk.
“I think you’re right.” I hear the humor in his voice as he pulls his head out of my hair.
The electricity that hasn’t stopped burning since I jumped into his arms ignites again and his hand comes to my chin, lifting it up so he can look me in the eye. The eye contact fades the moment he presses his lips to mine. I close my eyes, savoring his warmth, his touch, his scent. There is something about the way he smells that makes my head fog over with desire. His tongue slides in along my own and I don’t care that we’re driving through New York on our way to wherever. There’s just us.
My heart speeds up in my chest, my breathing wavers and my desire for the man I’m kissing grows hotter, more desperate. I need so much more of him than what he’s giving me right how. I pull back from the kiss, desperate for air. His breathing matches my own and I can’t help the smile that spreads as I look at him. I can feel the warmth in my cheeks as he takes in my expression with gentle eyes. They’re soft with an air of mischievousness playing at the corners of his lips.
“God, VeeVee, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear and he shifts beneath me.
“Am I hurting you?” I ask as I’m about to climb off him.
His hands wrap around me, holding me to him. “Not at all. It’s just…” I feel it then when he twitches against my thigh.
“We could do something about that, you know?” I look around the limo, or rather what I can see of it, and there’s plenty of room.
His eyes become hooded and full of the same desire I’m already feeling between my legs and my breathing hitches again. I lean in to kiss him again and he stills me. I fight the feeling of rejection that’s threatening to consume me by closing my eyes.
His hand comes off my thigh and presses to my cheek gently. “Look at me, Ireland.” His voice is stern, but yet his tone is soft and I open my eyes. “I owe you better than a limo our first time.” His eyes are gentle. “You deserve better than that. The first time I took your virginity in a barn, the second time I nearly took you because you begged me to, but my reasons were more selfish than that.” A small tear escapes my right eye, and he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb. I have no idea why I’m crying, maybe it’s the remnants of the rejection I felt at first, I don’t know, but he doesn’t comment on it. “The next time I bury myself inside of you, it will be on a bed, the right way.”
My chin quivers at his statement because the look in his eyes says all the things his voice is not.
“Besides, we don’t have too much further to go before we’re at the penthouse.”
“Penthouse?” I choke.
He smiles wide at me then, not the panty melter I enjoy so much, but one that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “I started my business in New York. My home is technically here.”
“Oh,” is all I can manage as the reality of him not living in Phoenix settles over me.
He catches on to my change in mood quickly. He removes his hand from my cheek and places it back on my thigh. “What’s that look for?” he asks.
“I thought you lived in Phoenix.”
He smiles again. “I do.” Relief washes over me. “But I spend almost as much time in New York as I do in Phoenix, so rather than get rid of my house here, I’ve kept it. It makes it easier to come here. Sometimes I have to stay for a month or so.”
“That’s not making me feel much better.”
His smile turns sad. “That makes two of us.” He leans his forehead against mine. “Why do you think I flew you out here this morning? I couldn’t stand spending three days away from you.”
Starting to feel a bit uncomfortable sitting on his lap like this, I shift, his eyes grow wide and I smile as I adjust so that I’m straddling his legs and he growls at me, nipping at my lips with his teeth. “So not helping, tigress.”
I give him my best sexy smirk, and flick my hips.
The next thing I know, I’m on my back and Dyson is on top of me. “Oh,” I squeak as he presses himself against me. His hand brushes the hair from my forehead and he plays with one of the curls. “Bed,” he groans.
His hand slides up my thigh, caressing me with gentle strokes. “Do you promise to take me to bed?”
“Every fucking night.”
I lean up to kiss him, but miss and end up with his chin instead. I give him a gentle kiss and whine.
“What do you want, Ireland?”
I moan my frustration as he keeps his lips just out of reach.
“Tell me, princess.”
“Your lips,” I beg.
He looks down at me, smirking. “Oh really, how bad?” he asks as he presses his hips against mine and I can feel his erection pressing against my sex.
I moan and throw my head back as the action sends a sharp spark of pleasure through my body and the next thing I know he’s kissing along my jaw, down my neck, pulling my jacket out of the way so he can find more skin and I turn my head, allowing him the access he so desperately seems to want.
“Five minutes,” a voice interrupts us and I jump.
Dyson chuckles, “Don’t worry, he can’t see us.”
He pulls back from me and grabs my hand to pull me up. “You don’t fight fair,” I grumble and he laughs.
“I never said I would fight fair, princess.”
I huff and fold my arms over my chest in a mock pout and he moves his face in front of mine. He nips at my bottom lip, grabbing it gently and pulling it sweetly and I can feel the heat rising in my veins. The limo is suddenly too warm.
Before I can get any more worked up, he backs off. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He sits back against the bench seat, but he takes my hand in his and gently kisses each of my knuckles. Until he stops at the ring on my pointer finger.
Recognition lights his eyes. “You still have this?” he asks and I smile at him. Looking between his eyes and the ring, they’re almost the same color. “What’s purple mean again?”
“Crazy as fuck,” I laugh.
He smirks at me. “Why would you be crazy as fuck, Ireland?”
“Because you make me crazy.”
His smirk turns into a salacious grin. “How so?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mister Spontaneous?” I laugh. “Among other reasons.”
The car comes to a stop and one of the doors open up front but Dyson do
esn’t pull back, he’s still looking at the mood ring on my finger. Though it used to reside on my ring finger, it doesn’t fit there anymore, it’s too big, so I moved it to my pointer finger. I don’t wear it every day, but knowing I was coming here, I was hoping he’d remember it. “It’s my rock,” I whisper.
He gives me a goofy grin. “I can’t believe it still works.”
The door behind Dyson opens and I catch a glimpse of Byron before Dyson slides out and offers me his hand, thank god, because if I had to breath him in any longer, I was going to rip off all my clothes and demand he take me right then and there.
I slide out. There are a few snowflakes floating down from the grey sky overhead and I can see steam coming up out of a couple sewer grates and I shiver. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Chapter 27
Dyson
“Be Still” - The Fray
God, I had no idea I had that much willpower in me.
Ireland’s close proximity, the way she jumped into my arms, the way she smells, fuck, I can’t believe I made it out of that limo without taking her right there. The desire to prove to her this isn’t just some one-night-stand was too hot to ignore.
I meant what I said. I’ve never done anything right by her and I owe it to her to do this the right way. Though the right way would probably be actually courting her, getting to know her, but I have no idea how to even begin to do that. Let alone figure out how to keep my dick in my pants.
I escort her into my building. It’s not the tallest building around, but at twenty-two stories, it’s still quite tall. I live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, and I live here because I can afford to. Definitely not for the neighbors. If I’d known what I was going to be getting into when it came to them, I would have chosen a tiny studio in Midtown over this place.