I chuckle and her eyes light up, her lips curling up into a smirk.
“You think I’m gonna drop everything I’m doing just to accommodate some drunk girls who stumbled in from the boardwalk and think they can get their way?”
I take a step toward her and her girlfriends giggle, parting so I can get closer to her.
She smells like saltwater and rain, lime and tequila. Her eyes are swimming and she’s searching my face for something.
Princess swallows and I see her throat move, and she inhales shakily.
“I’m sorry,” she stammers, her eyes gliding over my face, “I thought you were open. We’ll just leave.”
“You’ve already come in here and made your demands, and you’re just gonna give up that easily?” I say. I can feel sex in the tone of my voice. She can feel it too. I can see it in her eyes.
There’s a pause, and the tension between us is heavy in the air. And it’s like no one else is in the room with us.
“We just wanted tattoos to commemorate our girls weekend,” one of her friends says, breaking me out of my reverie. “We saw you outside. You looked like you know what you’re doing.”
“Right,” princess says softly. “You have really nice tattoos, so you must be good at what you do.”
“Princess, I didn’t give myself my own tattoos, so what makes you think I’m gonna do a good job on you?”
“Right,” she replies, shaking her head with a smile. “Of course. But you might know someone you could refer us to.”
“At this time of night?” I break away from her and go back to the desk to grab my keys. “At this time of night, no one’s working. But I can do you one better. Would you ladies like me to show you around?”
The girls begin talking among themselves and throwing glances at me over their shoulders.
“Girls only,” the blonde one says, tilting her head to one side. “No guys this weekend.”
“You girls gonna get into trouble?” Mike says, pushing a hand through his hair.
“Something like that,” princess says. Her eyes drift to mine and she bites her bottom lip cautiously.
“Don’t let me keep you, then,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. My chest clenches as I watch her walk away from me.
“Wait,” the curvy little brunette with the crown says as her friends start toward the door.
“What is it, Amanda?” one of her girlfriends asks.
So her name is Amanda.
“Oh,” she says, looking among her friends’ expectant faces, “never mind. We shouldn’t. It’s our girls weekend.”
“Wait,” the blond says softly, “if you want him to just show you around, don’t let us stop you. There’s more girls weekend to be had.”
“Yeah, Amanda,” I say, shooting a smirk to her friend, “stay here. Let me show you my shop. Then we can go grab a drink. No biggie.”
“I guess I could stay a little while,” she says, her eyes nearly glittering for me.
“It’s settled!” the blonde says brightly. “You’re staying here.”
“I’ll bring your friend back to you in one piece,” I say.
Paul and Mike shake my hand, say goodbye and leave, and the girls, smiling mischievously, give their friend a big goodbye and slip out behind them.
And Amanda watches them leave before she turns around slowly, her eyes meeting mine.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, putting my hand out. She slowly offers me her hand, and I feel a bolt of pure want and need crush through me as she looks up at me with her hand in mine. “I’m Dylan. But you can call me Big D.”
3
Amanda
I could kill my friends.
He could be an axe murderer.
But I know he isn’t. Hell, even if he were, he wouldn’t axe-murder me. There’s many reasons why. Firstly, my friends know where I am and who I’m with. Secondly, this is literally the first place the cops would look for me. And everyone knows who he is. His name is right on the front of the place, in big, marquis lights.
Big D’s.
“I don’t usually do this,” I say, looking up at him. If it’s possible, he is even more beautiful than I thought. His chin is strong and could cut a diamond in two, cleave it right in half. I can tell even though it’s covered by his beard. His eyes are light blue and commanding. He could tell me to get back into that freezing cold water and I’d do it, and I’d ask him how deep he wanted me to go.
And his body. God. My mouth feels dry and I’m nearly salivating all at the same time. I don’t know how the hell it’s happening, but it is. His chest is broad but not too big, and he’s tall. His body is steady and as I trail my eyes down his chest and to his arms, hanging at his sides, I feel an intensity coming off his body that I didn’t feel when everyone else was in the room with us.
“Do what?” he asks. “Don’t usually do what?”
“Huh?” I mutter, snapping my eyes back up to his. He walks past me and takes his keys out of his pocket, unlocking a door hidden at the side of the shop.
He’s right. What the hell did I mean by that? It’s such a damn cliche thing to say.
I don’t usually do this. Typically spoken, I’m sure, by someone who usually does do this.
This, of course, being...well, what is this, anyway?
“Come here,” Dylan says, motioning for me to join him, “it’s okay.”
And I follow him. I’m not following him into the ocean, though I would right now. He might not be an axe-murderer or any type of murderer for that matter, this much I am sure of. He is a business owner! He has employees and a Tax ID number! He is an upstanding citizen, a pillar of the community!
But he’s still dangerous. He’s dangerously sexy.
And he’s slaying me right now.
I follow him down the narrow hallway a few steps, and he turns the lights on.
The hallway becomes illuminated, fluorescent lights overhead flickering on gradually, lighting up a series of small rooms with all sorts of strange-looking equipment inside.
“You have any tattoos?” he asks. I keep following him. I bite my lip and it nearly quivers when I look down a bit at his butt in those damn jeans.
“No,” I reply, “no tattoos. I’m not even sure if I want one.”
“So why’d you bust in here and demand I give you girls tattoos?”
He’s right. That was kind of silly. The bucket list thing was just something that popped into my head, not anything real. I’m not gonna really get a tattoo on a whim like that. Not that I’d rule a tattoo out as a possibility either, but if I were gonna do it, it wouldn’t be a drunk, impromptu decision. I’d have to do research on the best artists and really carefully plan what I wanted to get.
“I guess it was just a random thought,” I say.
“You were very demanding back there when you said you wanted a tattoo,” he laughs. His voice is so damn sexy. It’s like a growl, and it has this very strange effect on me. Suddenly, he turns around slowly and I feel my cheeks grow hot as he peers down. “Are you used to getting what you ask for?”
I swallow hard as he takes a small step toward me, his eyes locked on mine. The hallway we are in is small, and suddenly feels smaller. My skin buzzes with heat. His gaze is so intense I almost want to look away.
I’ve never been looked at like this before.
“No, I don’t always get what I want,” I say. “Of course I don’t. Who the hell ever gets everything they want?”
“You really want me to answer that, princess?”
His voice is dark, with an edge on it. I can taste it. I imagine his lips on me. His hands on me.
When I told him I don’t usually do this, I wasn’t lying. I’ve only been with one man - and that was the man I walked out on today. What the hell was his name again? I suddenly can only remember him as a vague memory, and even though I know I have to go back to all the shit I left behind at home, it suddenly feels insignificant. The drama, the lies, the bullshit, they’re suddenly thrust into my
past. That’s how I feel in this moment. It might change, and the present might come rushing back to me at any moment, but in this moment between me and Dylan, he is all that matters.
Because right now, all I can feel is two things: Dylan’s eyes on me, and the wetness between my legs.
“Yeah,” I say softly, “answer it. Who the hell gets everything they want?”
He chuckles softly, stepping toward me again. My heart is slamming inside me, making my skin feel alive. It’s inside my throat, inside my belly, and his scent and his voice are making me wetter by the second.
“You do,” he says, “starting tonight. But you have to ask for it very, very nicely. Think you can do that, princess?”
“Princess?”
My heart flutters as he rests his hand on the back of my neck.
“Yeah,” he growls, “princess. You’re wearing a crown. Or did you forget?”
I feel a smile spread across my lips.
“I guess I did forget,” I say, “but it’s not mine. It’s on loan.”
“It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
“Now just remember. You might be wearing the crown, but I make the rules.”
His fingers lace through my hair and he tugs just a tiny bit, forcing my neck to crane a little. I am very wet now. And I very much don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
But I go with it. Not because I feel this would be a distraction from my life right now. No, I go with it because the man in front of me is devastatingly sexy, commandingly irresistible, and all I can think about is him pinning me against the wall, throwing my arms above my head, and kissing me.
“What do you mean by…rules?” I ask. The line of my neck is exposed for him, raw. He’s not afraid to take me right here. That courage is intoxicating, and I allow myself to get drunk on the look in his eyes.
This isn’t a distraction at all; no, in fact, it’s far from it. I’m not distracted from anything right now. Right now, Dylan is my whole world. He’s slipped into my life, and it might only be for this one night, but I can’t think of anything I want more right now.
Desire crushes through my bones, it flows through my veins. And the devilish look in Dylan’s eye tells me he has plans for me. It tells me he’s thinking all of the dirty thoughts I am.
“The rules, princess. Like first of all, you do what I say.”
His words are possessive and hard, but not threatening. His tone is commanding and stern, but not scary.
I am a little afraid, though. Afraid of how I’m going to be able to catch my breath. Afraid of how I’m going to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not instantly blush at the girl who let herself be swept up by the stranger she saw on the boardwalk.
This feels like a turning point. It’s a casual thing and a one night stand and I know I may never see him again, but it feels like more than that. It feels important. It feels like more than what it is. Because I’ve never felt so desired than I do right now, standing in this narrow hallway, with a stranger’s fist in my hair and my head pulled back so all I can feel is the thrumming of my heart and the heat between my legs. It’s sending a vibration of desire through my skin.
“And I have to follow your orders exactly?” I ask meekly, looking up at him. But I don’t feel meek. And I know he doesn’t think I’m meek.
“You have to follow my orders exactly, but only if it’s what you want. This is all for you. It’s all to make you feel good. So when I say beg, you beg. When I say ask, you better make your tone really fucking sweet so I’ll do what you say. Because as much as I want to make you mine right fucking now, I know you want to feel my face buried between your legs and my tongue on that little pussy of yours first.”
I feel a moan deep inside my body and it slips past my lips. He moves his lips to mine gently, but he doesn’t kiss me. He just brushes his soft pink lips against my bottom lip, teasing me gently with his flesh.
“What do you want, princess?” he growls. The way he says princess makes my clit ache in a strange way. He says it with a tone of reverence and distance, almost, but with a sardonic edge that makes me think he wants to take me off the pedestal he’s erected for me in his mind and get me all dirty with him.
“I want you to kiss me,” I breath. I’ve never said what I wanted before. This is all new territory for me, and it feels so right. And when he doesn’t kiss me, I say it again, sweeter this time. “I want you to kiss me.”
I feel his breath hitch inside his chest and a rumble inside him, and he takes his other hand, wrapping it softly around my throat.
“Is this okay?” he growls, daring me to stop him, my eyes fluttering open to see him drinking me in with his eyes, deep pools of blue.
“Yes,” I whisper, “it’s okay.”
Dylan pushes me against the wall, quickly pressing his body against mine. I feel my legs curl up around his waist as he lifts me in the air easily.
“I saw you out there, baby,” he says, his hands on my full ass, “and it nearly broke my damn heart to see you taking your clothes off. Because that’s for me. That’s for me tonight. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I nod, “I understand.”
“Good girl,” he groans, putting me down. “Now I want you to take your dress off, and remember who you’re doing it for.”
He takes a step backwards, putting his back on the wall behind him. We’re standing a few feet apart from each other now, the lights overhead illuminating us.
I look down. For a split-second I pause. This isn’t me. Then I smile.
This isn’t me. And I like it this way.
“You okay?” he asks, putting his fingers under my chin. I quiver in anticipation of his rough beard against me. “You still want me to kiss you?”
“Yes,” I reply, and my eyes trail up his perfect body until I meet his gaze. “I still want you to kiss me.”
“Then take your dress off, princess,” he growls, “and keep your eyes on me.”
Electricity zips up my spine and goosebumps spring up under my finger as it slips under the thin black strap on my shoulder. I allow it to fall down, my eyes still locked on his.
He licks his lips and I feel my eyebrows knit in the middle.
“Take it off nice and slow,” he says, “and let me get a closer look at what you have on underneath.”
God, that’s right. He knows what I’m wearing under my dress. He saw me on the beach. He saw me take my dress off like a lunatic.
But that somehow makes this encounter even hotter. He was watching me - and not in a creepy way. I invited him to watch. I invited anyone and everyone to watch. But he took notice. He saw me. And I like it.
I reach behind my back and tug at the end of the zipper on my dress. It comes undone easily, fluidly, naturally, silently. I swallow hard as I’m about to slip it off. My heart is beating so hard inside my body that I can feel it heaving around inside my ears.
I think he can feel it, too. There is just silence between us, and in the background is the faint roar of the midnight ocean. But the feeling between us is magnetic, and his eyes stay on mine, his chin dipped down slightly, like he wants to unhinge his jaw and consume me whole.
Trying to steady my breathing, I begin to push the dress down. It catches slightly on the swell of my breasts before it passes my tummy. When it gets to my hips, Dylan steps toward me and takes my face in his hands. He pushes my head back again lightly and presses his lips softly against mine, taking my bottom lip between his, sweetly kissing me before forcing my mouth open with his tongue.
Moaning desperately, I find the top of his jeans. I feel so turned on and so wanting, and I feel my pussy tense up, ready to find his cock there, but as though my body has betrayed itself, I whimper at his absence.
“Not yet,” he says, taking my hands and throwing them behind my back, keeping my wrists bound together with his firm hands, “you don’t get to have me yet. You don’t get it yet.”
“Please,” I whimper, “please.”
�
��That’s how you beg, princess. But you don’t get it right away. I told you, you need to beg sweeter than that.”
He lets my hands go and pulls my dress the rest of the way down, past my curvy hips. Taking a small step back, he regards me slowly.
“Please,” I moan.
“Please what? Do you still want me to kiss you?” he asks, fisting my hair in his hand.
“Yes,” I say, “I still want you to kiss me. Please?”
“As long as you say please,” he says, smiling wickedly.
Dylan kisses my neck and my eyes flutter closed. I feel him lean to the side and my vision goes black behind my eyelids. I open my eyes again and the hallway is dark, heightening my other senses.
He trails kisses from my neck up to my lips as his hands runs down my neck, to my breasts, where he takes them in his hands and roughly pulls them out of my lace bra.
As he pinches my nipples I close my eyes tightly. My vision is clouded with red and white splotches. My panties are soaked through and I can feel the insides of my thighs getting sticky and wet for him. And again my pussy clenches up when I feel his lips come down on my nipple and his tongue sweep out so very slowly, sending a shockwave through my body that lands right inside my clit.
“Fuck,” I breathe roughly, “that feels so good.”
He takes my breasts in his hands and kisses me between them, and then lower. He trails sweet, small kisses down to my belly as he kneels in front of me, stopping at the edge of my panties.
“These are fucking sexy,” he growls against my covered pussy.
I swallow thickly and only realize I’m holding my breath when I exhale deeply, feeling Dylan’s tongue slowly work over the thin lace material.
His tongue is so close to me, and I feel the sensation of him against my clit, but I need to feel his wet, broad tongue right against my wet skin.
“That feels so good.”
He pulls away and I feel his fingers come to the strip of fabric covering my pussy. He pulls it away from my skin and breathes against me for a moment.
“You smell good,” he groans.
Bad Boy's Baby_A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance Page 3