Irresistibly Undeniable

by Zoey Derrick

  When we were walking back, I couldn’t help but bring up what had caused me to stiffen up in the elevator and then ultimately what led to my fleeing from the restaurant. Sure, I was jealous, but more importantly, I was scared because I didn’t even know where I stood with him.

  The last twenty-four hours have been amazing, beyond amazing, but that could all come to an end tomorrow when I have to fly back to Phoenix. I’m here, and I’m right now, but what happens when I’m no longer in his apartment. I just confessed to him I want the chance to finish what we started ten years ago and he enveloped me into a hug and he hasn’t let go for a good couple minutes.

  “Dyson?”

  “I love it when you say my name.”

  I shake my head and look into his blue-violet eyes with his hair sweeping into them and chant, “Dyson, Dyson, Dyson.” I snicker.

  He rolls his eyes. “You make me sound like Beetlejuice.” We both laugh as we move into the living area.

  “What do you want from this?” I ask him, no bushes to beat around, no evasiveness. I need to know. I need to know if I need to protect my heart once again or if I can finally let the walls start to crumble.

  “I want you anyway you’ll give yourself to me. I’ve never stopped wanting you, Ireland.” He takes a deep breath and steps back, separating us a little. “But I don’t know how to do this. I’ve spent so much of my life bouncing around between what I thought I wanted, what I wanted and more importantly, what I needed, that I haven’t had the time to figure it all out.” He runs a hand through his hair, a little frustrated. “I hate what happened downstairs.” I don’t say anything because I want him to continue talking, I need him to. “But in the same token, I warred with myself about whether or not to tell you about it.”

  “You wanted to lie to me?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No, I just didn’t want to tell you because it’s embarrassing, for one, and for two, the whole situation was entirely fucked up.”

  “Do you want kids?” I ask him, point blank.

  There’s a flash of fear that ignites in his eyes and then it settles. “I never thought about it, not until Jill happened.” He sighs. “I’m trying to figure out how to say this without sounding like a complete and total jackass.” His eyes harden, but it’s not a mask he’s trying to put on, it’s a mask he’s trying to take off. He wants to be honest with me, but he doesn’t want to hurt me further.

  “You don’t want kids?” I breathe out. This is a deal breaker for me. Kids are something I’ve always wanted.

  “Yes, I do,” he tells me softly. “But when she told me about being pregnant, I was pissed. Not at her, but because it wasn’t how I’d envisioned having children.”

  “You’re going to have to explain this,” I tell him.

  “If I couldn’t have kids with you, I wasn’t going to have kids with anyone. Ever.” My knees go weak and I take a seat on the couch, but he continues, “When I realized what I was giving up when it came to you, I knew it was so much more than a girlfriend or wife. I was giving up my future. I couldn’t imagine going on with my life unless it was with you. But I tried. I really did try to move on. I quickly realized it was looks that brought them to me, and it was my looks that spread their legs. Then it wasn’t just my looks, but also my bank account. It’s women, like Jill, who only see a payday because of the size of my bank account or the height of my credit limits. They like to think because I’m a successful businessman I can accommodate whatever lifestyle they think they need or want. The socialite housewife is not the kind of woman I want in my bed every night.”

  I lean forward, putting my head between my knees, trying to breathe, trying to find some center of balance. I’d known my obsession with Dyson was unhealthy, I accepted it. I had to. I tried to move on, tried to put him out of my mind because hope was a bitch to hold on to. I couldn’t keep going where he was concerned and so I vowed, that day in front of his house, to let him go completely. I thought I’d done that. But the more he talks, the more my heart aches. Not because I can’t have him. If I want him, I know he is mine and he is exactly what I need. And that’s what it is; it’s no longer a want, but a necessity. My heartache is because we’ve lost so much valuable time to be together.

  My mother’s death has taught me life is too short and precious and I need to seize the day, live for today and pray for tomorrow, but this… this hurts too much. The tiny pieces of my shattered heart start to rattle around in my chest, trying to mend themselves back together and I don’t even know where to begin anymore. What do I say to him? How do I say it to him?

  I’ve been quiet so long that Dyson comes to sit next to me. “Say something, please.”

  “I don’t…” I take a deep breath. “I haven’t a clue where to begin. This is all so,” I sigh, “it’s heavy, Dyson. I was okay accepting the fact I could never let you go. I managed to deal with it as best I could. I really tried. I tried to move on, tried to find someone who could make me feel like you made me feel, but in the end, it never happened. I’d resigned myself to being alone for a little while, finding a job, getting my career started, just being me, being who I’m meant to be.” I pause and look up at him. “Then my mother,” a stray tear slides down my cheek, “she…god, Dyson, she was so young, so…it was too soon, for her, for me, Dusty, Anna, all of us, and I realized if I don’t live in this moment, live a life for today, I’m going to let life pass me by. She sent me flowers, the day of the interview. She’d already planned ahead, expecting I would get the job. She had cards in a box saved for birthdays and other important days for not just Dusty and me, but for other friends, family members. She even had one for your mom,” I tell him, the tears flowing now. “But then everything stopped. She stopped and yet there are pieces of her everywhere for every one and…” I wipe the tears from my cheeks, “She thought she had time. I don’t feel like I have time. I feel like everything is only here for today, and tomorrow it will be gone and I’m afraid that if I let the shattered pieces of my broken heart mend back together, you’re going to shatter it again. I won’t survive that, Dyson. I can’t. Not again.”

  He sits next to me on the couch and there is sadness in his eyes as he brings his hands up to push my hair out of my face, wipe away my tears and take my face in between his palms. His face is serious and all Dyson. “Ireland Vyolet McKidd, I lost you once in my life because I was seventeen, and an idiot. I will never, ever let that happen again. I can’t. I need you more than I think you realize. Even if it means I can’t have you, I’d rather have you as a friend in my life than nothing at all. But I would much rather have you standing beside me, lying in my bed curled in my arms than to never be able to touch you again.” His thumbs gently stroke away some new tears. “But where we go from here is completely up to you. I am not capable of letting you go, I know that now, but I will step back if that’s what you need me to do.”

  No, no no no, no no no. I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I can’t live with having you so close and yet so far away from me,” I breathe.

  “So what do you want, VeeVee.”

  “I don’t want anything, Dyson. I need you. When I ran out of that restaurant, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like all the oxygen had left the earth because I was running away from you, and I can’t do that, I won’t survive.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear.”

  His lips press against mine and the gentle slow motion of lips and tongues, life and death, water and air, love, devotion, pain and heart-ache all pour between us and the tiny pieces of my shattered heart start melting back together.

  Overcome with emotion, I start to cry again, but this time there is an overwhelming emotion winning out among the tangled mess of everything I’m feeling. Love.

  He pulls back from me and cocks his head, looking at me as if he is desperate to see if what he’s feeling is the same as what I’m feeling. I know the moment he sees it because his hands come away from my face and he stands ups. Confusion washes over me until he wraps hi
s arms under my legs and along my back, lifting me off the couch. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To bed. I need to make love to the woman who’s stolen my heart.”

  Chapter 45

  DYSON

  “One And Only” - Adele

  I never imagined having her back in my arms, in my bed, in my life, but I will do anything and everything to keep her here. I have to. I don’t have a choice. I will not survive without her. Hope kept me hanging on for ten years. Hope that one day I would find her and I’d have the chance to try this again. I never imagined she’d hand it over to me like it was the most precious thing in the world.

  I kick my bedroom door closed, and take her to the bed, laying her down and standing over her. I don’t say anything, I don’t have to. She sits up, pulling my sweater over her head, then her tank-top, then finally unhooking her bra, exposing herself to me. She stands and I step back, giving her room as she pushes her jeans down her legs and pulls off her socks before climbing back on the bed, right in the center. Her hair is a mess of red curls surrounding her face and shoulders. Her breasts are on full display, her nipples hard peaks. My breathing goes ragged and my mouth falls slack as my eyes roam down her body like it’s my last meal. She gives me a come hither motion. My cock is harder than steel beneath my jeans. My body is alive, hungry and ready to show this beautiful woman everything I feel for her.

  I quickly undress and the stand before her naked, waiting for her to say something but she doesn’t. She doesn’t have to. I climb onto the bed and settle myself between her legs, pressing my erection into the apex of her thighs and her eyes roll up into her head and her breathing catches in her throat. I haven’t entered her, but I can feel her slick heat ready and waiting for me. I lower my lips to hers and brush them gently.

  Her hand snakes around my neck, pulling me closer to her and she presses her lips to mine and then the dance ensues. Her lips, my tongue, her tongue, breathing ragged, hearts igniting, and my body hums with a new desire for her. Something I thought I felt ten years ago resurfaces. I fell in love with my VeeVee the day she gave me the rock. I fell in love with Ireland the day I took away her innocence because I was a selfish prick, and now, I am claiming the woman she has become. She moans into my mouth when I flick my hips against hers again and I pull back, kissing along her jaw and down her neck.

  I push my body down on hers as I lick and suck my way to one nipple then the other and she writhes under me. I keep kissing my way down her body until I find her belly button ring and I tug on it. Her belly jumps beneath my touch and my eyes meet hers to see the most glorious smile on her face that speaks everything our words are not. “Dyson,” she coos and a thrill runs through me as my name passes her lips again, but I reach up with my hand and place my finger over her lips, silencing her and she nods in understanding.

  I kiss my way lower, finding the cute little smattering of curls right above my destination and I can’t help inhaling her scent. It’s amazing and so sweet, yet the spice is everything Ireland. Her arousal is what drives me further to find the tight bundle of nerves and I suck her clit into my mouth. Our eyes never break their contact. Our eyes find each other’s souls and grab hold. The connection is undeniable.

  I don’t spend too much time ravishing her sex with my mouth. My cock is growing impatient, desperate to be in the place he wants most. Inside the hot, slick, perfect pussy belonging to the woman he can’t seem to forget.

  I feel her juices coating my lips and I lick them and savor the taste. She shivers and her eyes grow dark and hooded as I slide back up her body, not stopping until I am nose to nose with her. Her hands grab hold of my hair and pull me down to her mouth. The moan she cries out makes my cock jump when she tastes her sex on my lips and she’s determined to take it all. My tongue slides into her mouth and she cries out when I press my cock to her entrance. Just the tip, just enough to let her know I’m here, I’m ready and I need her. I pull back, seeking her silent permission.

  She senses my hesitation and she wraps her legs around my waist. Giving me the answer I need and I slide home.

  We both let out a strangled cry of pleasure.

  This is it, this is home, this is where I so desperately need to be.

  Her arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me to her and I lower myself to my elbows, needing to feel her body against mine as I push in and out of her. Her legs guide me, begging me to go faster and I give in, giving her a little more speed. I push my thighs up under hers so that the angle changes, giving me deeper access to her.

  I use my hands to move the hair from her face and coax her eyes open. The pleasure burning in them is almost my undoing, but I manage to get her to keep her eyes open. Her body begins to quake and tremble, her legs lock up and I know she’s right there. I claim her mouth, swallowing the cries she can no longer keep inside.

  For the first time since the morning after I left her, tears flow gently down my cheeks.

  This is home, this is where I’ve always belonged and I will do anything to keep her here with me, forever.

  Chapter 46

  Ireland

  “Back To The Start” - Mr. Little Jeans

  Heaven.

  Bliss.

  Perfection.

  That’s what I felt that afternoon with Dyson in his penthouse apartment.

  That’s what kept me going through the five hour flight back to Phoenix.

  And most importantly, it’s what got me through Sunday night.

  I called Dyson once I was home and settled in. We talked briefly and he apologized for being short, but he was trying to wrap things up in New York so he could get back to Phoenix. I joked with him about being too cold in the Big Apple, but he said he was cold because I wasn’t there. Said he was going to sleep in the game room because he didn’t want to be in his bed alone. I laughed and told him he was a crazy fool and we hung up.

  We spent the rest of Saturday in bed. With the exception of the best burger on the planet and when we went downstairs to finally pick out a movie.

  Watching a movie, curled up naked in Dyson’s arms, going to have to be repeated at least once a week. Definitely.

  When I got home, Becca was nowhere to be found. I tried calling her and texting her several times, letting her know I was coming home, but she never responded to me. I called Reese back, confirming our dinner plans for Tuesday, and he was glad I’d made it home safe and sound.

  I called Dusty, just to check in on him and Anna. She’s only got a few more weeks to go before the baby is born and Dusty swore up and down he would call me the minute it happened. By then I should have my first paycheck, so with any luck, I can get up there for the weekend after the baby is born. Despite being in Phoenix and Dusty being in Chicago, I want to be able to go up and see them anytime I want. Dusty is the only family I have left and I’m determined to bring us back together as one.

  By ten Sunday night, I was exhausted. The traveling finally caught up to me and I climbed into bed. Ready to start my new job at Wellington in just under ten hours. After making sure my alarm was set, I texted Dyson a good night kiss. To which he didn’t reply before I passed out.

  Monday morning arrives and I head off to my new job. I’d planned a pantsuit for my first day. It’s a light grey in color with wide legged pants, heels and an emerald green camisole underneath it. It’s actually the outfit I wore for graduation a few months ago. The heels go into my bag and my walking shoes are on my feet. I love wearing heels, but sometimes you have to run a little faster for the train, which I do.

  I make my train with my new iPad tucked into my bag and my headphones in my ears. My hair is down today and if I had that kind of confidence in myself, I’d say I looked hot.

  My phone chimes just before I get to the stop before mine and I smile like an idiot, hoping it’s Dyson and my smile falls when I see it’s not.

  Becca: So you’re home?

  I roll my eyes. What the hell has gotten into her since we were at the club that night? I shake
my head. Please, for the love of everything, don’t let it be Dyson. Becca isn’t exactly the type to ignore someone after she figures out she wants them. Dyson, no doubt, is no exception and I’m pretty sure there is petty jealousy going on and I haven’t the first clue how to deal with her.

  I finally reply.

  Yup, got home around seven, cleaned up, washed some clothes and passed out. Where have you been?

  Her reply is almost instant.

  Around.

  I sigh and type out a message to her that I have a feeling is going to start a fight and frankly, I don’t care right now. This crap with her has to stop.

  What the hell is going on with you lately? You’re so distant and not telling me anything. I don’t like it.

  For as pushy as she can be, I can be equally as pushy when I want to be. The train announces my stop is next and I put my phone away, ready to get off the train and stop for a cup of coffee before heading into the office. As I walk into Starbucks, I pull the unbreakable, sealable cup. Yeah, it’s dumb, he’s still in New York, but I really don’t need or want a repeat of what happened two weeks ago.

  I order my drink and wait.

  My phone chimes again. I’d already forgotten about Becca and that I was waiting for a reply, which is why I’m surprised when I see her message.

  Becca: I’m jealous, alright. There, I said it. He came up to me in the bar, he was hot, I wanted him and he only had eyes for you.

  Ireland: He saw us come in together. He was trying to get a rise out of me, I’m sorry that you got caught in that.

  Becca: It doesn’t matter.

  Ireland: It does matter Becca, you’re my best friend and I miss my best friend.