“Come on, Winters. You’ve been through this with us before.”
A sly grin slid into place. “Yes, and you know I won’t back down.” She heard murmurs in the background but couldn’t make out what was being said. “Charles, I’m on my way into another meeting. This deal is all or nothing, and you know the massive fan power Matthew has. You’ll have sports fans flocking to your hotel in no time. Or”—she paused long enough for their ears to perk up—“you won’t. The decision is yours, but I must get to my next meeting. I’ll look for the contract on Monday.”
She ended the call, her heart pounding from the rush of control, and her phone immediately vibrated again. Her heart skipped a beat when Dylan’s name appeared.
“Hi.” She moved through the crowded sidewalk toward the entrance to the building.
“Hey, are you by chance in Times Square?”
“No. I’m at the corporate office of Regan Entertainment for my last meeting before the conference. Why?”
“I thought I saw you walk into a sushi restaurant just now and was going to catch up with you.”
“Oh my gosh, I wish. I love sushi.”
“Me too. How’s your wild and crazy day?”
She heard the smile in his voice, and it eased her worry that he might have lost interest. “Good. Thanks for asking. I was going to text you, but I—” Chickened out. “I’m really not avoiding you, Dylan. I know it must look that way, but my days honestly are crazy, and—”
“I know you’re busy being a sports agent extraordinaire. No worries. Good luck at your meeting.”
“Thanks.” She drew in a deep breath, mustering the ridiculous amount of courage it took for her to admit what she was about to. “I really liked the gifts you left for me. They were thoughtful, and the doughnut was delicious. I’d like to get together at some point when we both have time.” She glanced at her watch, nervous about being late to her appointment but not wanting to cut him short.
“Winters, are you going soft on me?”
His playful banter loosened all those knots in her stomach. “Not on your life.” She peeked at the time, feeling the seconds ticking away. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I’ve got to run into my meeting, but I’m glad you called.” She headed into the building, squaring her shoulders and readying herself for an intense negotiation.
“I have no idea how any man can look at you and concentrate on anything else. Go get ’em, Winters.”
The line went dead—and her girly heart came to life.
DYLAN PUSHED FROM the brick wall as Tiffany stepped out the glass doors wearing a tight black skirt and turquoise blouse, looking radiant and professional. The sparks in her eyes added victorious to that list. Her gaze skirted along the street, slowing at the black sedan parked at the curb. She glanced at her phone, then her eyes slid in his direction. The moment their eyes connected, heat ignited. Tiffany’s face tipped up toward the balloons and her hand moved over her heart, looking so feminine she took his breath away. He closed the distance between them and slid a hand to her hip as her eyes found his.
“You’re here?” She sounded as shocked as she looked.
“You’re here, Summers. Of course I’m here.”
“But how…?” She blinked several times, every flirtatious sweep of her long lashes telling him he’d made the right decision.
He saw in her eyes that she’d figured out his earlier call was a ruse, and he gave her the only answer she needed to hear. “I made time.”
He pressed his lips to hers, wanting desperately to deepen the kiss but acutely aware that she’d just come from a business meeting. He didn’t want to embarrass her.
“And you brought me balloons?” She smiled up at him.
She might not be a flower or chocolate girl, but he could see that she definitely didn’t hate all surprises. It killed him to have to admit the truth. “Actually, I brought these for Bethany. She was released from the hospital and is back at the Ronald McDonald House. I’m going to see her after I ride with you down to your conference.”
“Oh, Dylan. That’s wonderful.” She paused, a serious expression stealing her smile, as if she just realized what he’d said. “Wait, you came to ride with me to my conference? That’s…” She shook her head and trapped her lower lip between her teeth for a beat, as if she was completely baffled—and delighted—by his intentions. “But it’s nowhere near the Ronald McDonald House, if that’s where you’re heading next.”
He walked her to the curb, where the sedan he’d ordered was waiting for them. “I assumed it wasn’t, but you need to eat dinner.” He lifted the bag he was carrying. As he stepped closer, heat blazed between them. His eyes dropped to her breasts, and her nipples rose to greet his hungry stare. “And I’m starved for dessert.”
Her cheeks flushed with desire.
He opened the car door and motioned for her to climb in. Settling in beside her, he tucked the balloons behind him and lowered the tray between their seats to keep from taking her into his arms as the driver pulled away from the curb. As badly as he wanted her, he wanted more than sex and they had limited time, so he forced himself to spread the sushi dinner out between them and tried to behave.
“Sushi,” she whispered, then lifted a smile that brightened her eyes. “Thank you.”
“If a guy’s going to date a hot sports agent, he’s got to adjust to her schedule, right?”
“That makes me sound awful. I don’t mean to blow you off, it’s just a really busy time for me.” She reached for his hand and he leaned closer, taking her in a deeper, greedier kiss. Her fingers curled around his as they both leaned in again, knocking the tray between them.
They parted on a laugh.
“You’re busy, not awful. It’s apparent that the only way I’ll get to know you better is to sneak in time when you least expect it.”
They fell into easy conversation as they ate. Dylan snagged a piece of salmon sashimi with his chopsticks and held it up for her. She gave him a wry smile, but she opened her mouth, allowing him to feed it to her.
“See, Summers? You’re not so hard to figure out. Looks like you’re a sushi girl.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “You’re not like any guy I’ve ever met.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, but don’t count your chickens just yet. I want nothing more than to tear off that pretty blouse and feast on your gorgeous breasts.” He paused, enjoying the lust simmering in her gaze. “Now, tell me about your day. How did your meetings go?”
After stumbling past her desire, her whole face lit up as she described the deals she’d negotiated and the points of contention she’d had to overcome. She was impassioned and in control without the wary edge he’d noticed when she weighed things on a personal level. He could see that work was her comfort zone.
“You really love what you do, don’t you?”
“More than anything. Every day, every deal, every conversation is different and important. Every negotiation is critical, so there’s no room for doing things halfway, which suits my personality perfectly. But my days are a little crazy. Oh, and I called your friend Phoebe. Thank you for the referral. She’s showing me office space Saturday.”
“That’s wonderful. If anyone can find you an office, it’s Phoebe.”
She sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’m too picky.”
“Picky is good.”
“Picky is limiting.” Her eyes widened a little. “Miranda is on vacation for the next week with her sister, so she can’t be there to give me input.”
“Hasn’t she been texting you?”
“Yes.”
“So, it’s a working vacation?”
She laughed, like he’d asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “She’s a good assistant. She still handles what she can when she’s away.”
“You’re serious?”
“Of course. She worked for me for two years as an intern while she was in college before coming on full time. She’s always lived here in New Yor
k, and I lived in L.A., so our hours were askew. She’s awesome, and she’s as driven as I am. We click.”
“You’re not worried she’ll burn out? Everyone needs a real vacation.”
“She wants to learn the business from the ground up, and she is. I mean, I can’t allow her to actually handle conferences like other agents do. They let their assistants handle a lot of the details of managing their scouts and some of the minor phone conferences, but I’m a little too controlling for that. I’m afraid she’ll miss something.”
“How will you know if you don’t give her a chance?”
Her eyes took on a serious slant. “The issue is that if she fails, it’s on me. My reputation. I can’t take that risk.”
“So she’s not learning the business from the ground up. She’s watching you handle it and you’re hoping she catches on?”
She rolled her eyes. “I see what you’re saying, but trust me. I need complete control or I’ll be cleaning up messes later. But I don’t want to talk about Miranda in the little time we have. I wish you’d come with me to see the space this Saturday. Do you think you have time? I know you have a million things to do, but I really do worry that I’m being too picky, and it would be good to have someone else’s take on the offices.”
He reached for her hand. “Do you really want me to go?”
“Yes. I like spending time with you, Dylan. You’re funny, and you’re smart, and you haven’t blown me off yet, which is really weird, but wonderful.” The way she dropped her eyes told him exactly how hard that was for her to admit.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll come with you if you’ll help me with my kitchen on Sunday. My brothers usually help, but you’re much cuter than they are.”
“Sunday.” She bit her lower lip, her brow wrinkling with worry.
“Work?”
She nodded. “I have a few contracts I’ll have to go through.”
“Go over them at my place.”
“Will you wear a shirt?” Her cheeks pinked up, and he tugged her into another delicious kiss.
“I can’t see how that would be beneficial for me, but if you demand it, yes.” He kissed her again, loving the sweet sigh of pleasure it incited. “You really don’t mind working seven days a week?”
Her gaze turned serious for a second, but she shook her head. “Not usually. That’s what it takes to stay on top.”
“I do like it when you’re on top.” He kissed her again. “Or on bottom. Or on your knees with your gorgeous mouth wrapped around my cock.”
“Dylan,” she whispered. “I have to go to a conference and you’re making me all hot and bothered.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but…” He cleared away their trash from dinner and moved the empty tray. Gathering her in his arms, he pushed his hand beneath her skirt, stroking his thumb over her sex. Thank Christ the dark glass separated them from the driver. “Dessert?”
Her eyes darkened, and he took her in a blazing kiss, sweeping his tongue around her velvety mouth, wanting to claim every inch of her and losing the struggle to keep from taking things too far, despite knowing they were minutes from arriving at their destination. He slipped his fingers beneath her panties and dipped them into her slick pussy. She moaned into their kiss, spreading her legs wider. Her hand dropped to the hard heat between his legs. He groaned, lifting his hips as she stroked him through his jeans. The sexy noises she made as she shifted beside him, guiding his fingers just where she wanted them, made him groan. And when he found the spot that made her lose control, she squeezed his cock so hard he nearly came. Her head tipped back as she rode the peak of her climax, giving him access to her luscious neck—which he devoured.
When he withdrew his fingers, sucking them clean, she looked drunk with desire. He pressed his other hand to her cheek, and a smile lifted her lips.
“I missed you,” he admitted.
“I missed you, too,” she said, surprising him. The shallow sound of her voice told him she had surprised herself, too. “This is crazy between us,” she said heatedly. “I’m like a nympho around you. You make me weak.”
“Nothing could ever make you weak.” His mouth covered hers hungrily, and they kissed like it was the last time they ever would, desperate and urgent, until the moment the driver pulled up to their destination.
“Thank you, Dylan,” she said breathily as she gathered her purse and smoothed the front of her blouse. “This was…” She smiled and leaned in for another quick kiss. “The sweetest thing anyone has done for me since some hot guy left presents at my doorstep.”
“Good luck at your conference,” he finally managed.
“Thanks. I hope Bethany’s doing well when you see her.”
“Me too. Hopefully when Mick returns he’ll get in touch with Anika Bouchert and I can connect them.”
“What do you need with Anika? My friend Shea is her public relations rep.”
“Really? She’s Bethany’s idol. I was hoping to connect them in some way. A phone call or something.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Seriously? That would be great, but no pressure. I know you have a lot on your plate.”
“Says the man whose apartment is torn apart, has a bar to run, and still finds time to bring me dinner and drive half an hour out of his way to spend time with me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and added, “Not to mention the fabulous orgasm you gave me.”
He took her in another hard, passionate kiss, hating to let her go, but he knew she was stressing about getting to her conference. He reached for the door, intending to step out of the car and open her door for her.
“I can let myself out.” She’d slipped back into Wonder Woman mode.
“Why do you have such a hard time letting me do things for you?”
Her expression turned solemn. “I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. Hard habit to break.”
“We might have to fix that.”
“Don’t ruin whatever this is by trying to fix me, Dylan. I’m not fixable.”
She glanced over her shoulder as she headed toward the entrance. It was easy to imagine her sitting at the head of a conference table with high-powered executives and famous sports figures, controlling meetings and directing negotiations. And it was equally as easy to imagine her stretched out beneath him in his bed, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he buried himself deep inside her, with a sheen of sweat on her flushed skin, her tight, rosy nipples brushing against his chest, and those sinful noises she made filling his ears. But there were so many more scenarios he wanted to envision that had nothing to do with work or sex. What music did she like? What did she look like when she was out on a real date? Eating dinner, watching a movie?
She might be Tiffany Winters, sports agent extraordinaire, but she was also his summer girl, and as he watched her disappear behind glass doors, longing filled the space between them, as real and present as the pavement on the street.
Chapter Eleven
TIFFANY HAD JUST climbed into bed when Dylan texted just after midnight to ask how her conference went. After exchanging several flirty texts, he’d finally called. It was wonderful to hear his gravelly voice.
“So,” he said with a seductive slant that made her insides go hot. “Did you get everything you wanted?”
She had a light, unfamiliar feeling inside her, and she realized she felt playful as she said, “No. You weren’t there.”
Dylan’s laugh was like music to her ears. He’d gotten to her over the past few days, snuck into her mind at the most unusual times, like when she was in her conference. She found herself comparing all the males in the room to Dylan. She usually never let her mind wander, except when she was in bed alone at night, when she created a veritable Dirty Dylan Playground. But while at work? It had been startling, and a bit frightening. Thoughts of Dylan had kept her revved up all night.
“I like the sound of that, Summers,” Dylan said. “Tell me more.”
She loved his dirty min
d, and despite her fear of opening up, she played along. “What do you want to know? That every man I saw paled in comparison to you? Or that I kept picturing us doing dirty things on the conference table?”
“I had my own conference-table fantasy while you were there,” he admitted in a sexy voice.
“Do tell.” Her pulse quickened at the possibilities.
“Not until you tell me what you’re wearing.”
“A black silk camisole.” Already shamefully damp, she slipped off her matching black panties. “And nothing else.”
“No panties? Did I interrupt something?”
“Not yet.” She felt her cheeks flush. It was embarrassing how quickly even thoughts of him could make her ready for more. “What are you wearing?” Picturing his bare chest and those lickable abs, she moved her hand between her legs, feeling her slick heat.
“Black boxer briefs.”
“Take them off,” she said breathlessly.
“You dirty girl.”
She heard him shifting on the sheets.
“Tell me, Summers, do you have phone sex often?”
“Never have,” she admitted shakily. “But I’ve thought about it. You?”
“Not since I was fifteen, and I think it lasted about three seconds.” He exhaled, and she imagined him on his bed naked. “This feels unfair. You’re still wearing a silk top and I’m naked.”
“Let me remedy that. Hold on.” She set the phone down and took off her top. Her nerves were on fire, and for some reason, her brain decided now was a good time to remember that he was her colleague’s brother. “If you mention this to Mick, I will slaughter you.”
A deep, rumbly laugh filled the airwaves. “Do you really think I want any other man picturing you naked?”
“I don’t know. Some guys are into sharing.”
“Not. Me. And definitely not when it comes to you.”
“I feel like I should salute you with that very firm command.” She was surprised at how easy it was to open up to him over the phone.
Bad Boys After Dark: Dylan (Bad Billionaires After Dark Book 2) Page 10