Although Melissa could understand that request, she said, "Weren't you afraid her father would find out? I mean, that was the boss's daughter."
"I don't think he paid attention. Rachel was a smoker, so she always went out to her car on break. She made a habit of parking in the back, too, so nobody could see what she was doing out there...or what we were doing. Her father never noticed that, some days, I took my break the same time as her. He was always so busy."
"So, this is the girl you liked the best? She's the one that got away?"
He released a breath as he seemed to contemplate his answer. "I would say she's the girl I enjoyed hanging out with the most. She was different. I like different. I respect different. But I don't know if I can say she broke my heart, even though it seems like you really want me to say that."
"I don't necessarily want you to say that. I just find it hard to believe you've wandered this earth for twenty-one years and you've never been in love."
"Love requires trust, and I'm not very good at that."
"That's a shame."
"Trust means you have to surrender something of yourself to someone, and I'm not willing to do that. I look out for me," he said, "and don't want to give anyone control over what happens to me, because God only knows what they would do with it."
"It's possible that somebody would take that control and be kind with it, if you'd allow it to happen."
"That hasn't been my experience."
"Maybe you just haven't met the right girl yet. Or maybe you need to stop dating girls and start looking at women."
"Or maybe I just need to keep my heart to myself where I know it won't get beaten with a bat. And stomped on. And spit on. And then beaten with a bat again."
"I bet one day you'll meet a girl...I'm sorry, a woman...who will make you change your mind."
"I doubt it."
"I don't." She patted his arm. "So, how did it end with Rachel?"
He smiled. "One day she told me she had met someone else and that our little thing was over."
"Why are you smiling about that?"
"Because I respect it."
"The bluntness?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah. It was typical Rachel. It was why I liked her in the first place, so I couldn't argue when she used it against me."
"She amused you, huh?"
"Yeah," he replied. "She genuinely did. I guess that's why I say she was the one who stuck out the most. But hey..." he went on. "You keep asking all this stuff about me. What about you?" He lifted his head and looked at her. "How many guys out there left you with a broken heart?"
Chapter 21
Melissa wasn't expecting the question. "You want to know who broke my heart?"
"Yeah, why not?" he replied. "You keep asking me about my life. It's only fair that you tell me about yours."
She knew the answer to his question; above all others, one man had stripped her of her soul, once upon a time. She just wasn't sure how much of that wound she wanted to open up. "It's not really a nice story."
"The ones that leave you broken-hearted usually aren't."
She released a breath, allowing her cheeks to puff out as she braced herself to relive the memory. "His name was Jacob. I was twenty when I met him. We went to school together. We met because we sat next to each other in sociology class and we started talking one day. He was a good-looking kid. He had bright blue eyes and this cute little dimple when he smiled..."
"He sounds dreamy."
Melissa playfully smacked Dylan's arm. "Shut up."
His shoulders once again bounced from his laughter.
"Anyway," she said emphatically, "he ended up asking me out, and we dated for a while...a long time, actually, and things were going well."
"What do you mean by a long time?"
"About a year and a half, I would say."
"That is a long time."
"Well, that was how long things went well. We dated a few months longer than that, but it had started to get a little wonky. At first, things were fabulous. He seemed to be the perfect guy. He was smart and funny—he was an engineering major, and his future looked bright. I mean, I was convinced that he was the man I was going to marry."
"I guess you would have been a little bit ahead of schedule, then." Although she couldn't see his face, his tone implied he was smirking.
"Yes, I would have been. I've never been one to procrastinate. And the thing was, he led me to believe that we were going to spend our lives together. It wasn't like I just came to that conclusion on my own; he actually said stuff to imply it. He used to ask me what type of house we should eventually get, and he looked into dog breeds with me so we could choose a pet. He even went so far as to ask what kind of engagement rings I liked. I mean, these are the actions of a man who is making plans for his future."
"What happened at the year-and-a-half mark?"
She paused as she tried to come up with a way to describe it. "He started to act funny." She shook her head. "I don't know. There was just something about his behavior that was a little...off."
"Off? How?"
After another long silence, she admitted, "He wasn't always where he said he was going to be. I would catch him in little lies. There was just something about his behavior that sent off alarm bells in my head."
"What was he lying about?"
"In the small sense? He would come up with excuses about why he was late, but then the story wouldn't end up checking out. He'd tell me he was with his roommate or something, and I'd find out later that his roommate was actually in class at the time. So I wouldn't know for sure exactly where Jacob had been or what he was doing to make him late."
"Was he doing someone else?"
"I'll get to that in a minute," she said with a giggle. "First, I want you to understand how disillusioning it was. I mean, here was this guy that I loved. I planned to marry him. I trusted him with everything I had."
"Okay, see? This is why trust sucks."
Despite herself, Melissa said, "I get that." After more thought, she added, "I honestly do. Trust can make you a little bit blind sometimes. I mean, I loved him so much and had nothing but faith in him, and I was somewhat desperate to give him the benefit of the doubt. I didn't want to admit that he was potentially doing something that would have been relationship-ending. So, at first, I just let everything slide. But after a while, there were so many inconsistencies that I had to start believing he was up to something. The thing of it was, he was pretty slick, and I could never actually figure out what he was up to. It was then that I started doing some detective work.
"I followed him," she went on. "I actually did stakeouts and stuff." She shook her head. "The simple fact that I felt compelled to do stakeouts showed that he wasn't the man I was supposed to marry, but I was too young to understand that at the time. But anyway, I followed him around, and it didn't take long for me to figure out he was going to somebody's apartment."
"Whose was it?"
"I didn't know. It was a huge apartment building, so I wasn't sure exactly where he was going once he got inside. I didn't know if it was a drug dealer or a girl or what. Then I saw him walk out of there with a girl, and they got into his car. I followed them, and boy was I in for a shock when I found out where they were going."
"Where did they go?"
Melissa snorted as the pain from that moment resurfaced. "The Everett County Women's Center."
When Dylan didn't respond, she added, "It was an obstetrician's office. They were there for her prenatal check up. She was carrying his baby."
"Damn."
"I know. It was heartbreaking. I confronted him about it, and he insisted that she had only been a one-night stand, but she had gotten pregnant. He tried to tell me that this was evidence that he was actually a good guy because he was doing the right thing and supporting her. That was apparently supposed to be enough to make me overlook the fact that he had cheated on me in the first place. He said he was drunk the night it happened, so I shouldn'
t have held it against him."
"Okay, see...you are only proving my point. If you trust someone, you are giving them the ability to hurt you."
She sighed, causing Dylan's arm to raise and lower with her breath. "I know. I guess I do have to admit that I haven't trusted quite that fully since that episode. I was young then, and I gave Jacob everything I had pretty quickly. But I have placed my trust in people since...I just do so in a guardedly optimistic kind of way."
"Do you trust me?"
"Do I trust you?"
"That's what I asked." He propped himself up on his elbow, looking her in the eye. With a sexy flip of his hair, he added, "I am a convicted thief, yet you come over here and leave your purse out on the kitchen table. What makes you think I'm not going to go in there and take your cash."
Butterflies stirred inside her stomach over how incredible he looked. "Lots of reasons."
"Such as..."
"First of all, you were recommended by my brother, who would never steer me wrong. Second, I'm providing you with a house, which I could easily kick you out of if you stole from me." She paused, unsure if she should disclose her next reason.
Her hesitation was clearly apparent. "And?" he asked with a knowing grin.
She softened her expression, reaching up to touch his face. "There's something about you that makes me want to believe in you. I don't know if it's because of your rough upbringing or because you're so polite or what. All I know is that I'm rooting for you, and I sincerely hope you make some changes."
"You're rooting for me, huh?"
Caressing his cheek with her thumb, she whispered, "I sure am."
He gently kissed her on the lips. "You may be the first person who ever has."
Chapter 22
Soon after he said the words, Melissa felt Dylan's fingertips slide gently up her stomach, barely touching her skin. Goosebumps immediately covered her body, and she didn't want to acknowledge what was happening inside her heart. The prospect was simply too scary.
His lips felt soft against hers as his hand found its way to her breast. He used all five fingers to tease her, stroking softly. She let out a little groan as she wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through is hair, which still had the scent of shampoo.
She massaged his scalp as they slowly kissed. His hand worked its way up her body, eventually cradling her neck and face. His hair tickled her shoulder.
She wanted time to stop, allowing her to be in this moment forever.
Dylan's soft hands traced their way down her stomach and onto her hip. He toyed with her for a while, tracing small circles on her eager skin before slowly inching his way inward. She sucked in a gasp as he touched her again, barely making contact with her. He slid his finger tenderly up and down, driving her insane, never taking his lips off of hers.
She tilted her hips, silently inviting him to do whatever he pleased. Taking the cue, he eased his finger up inside of her, whispering, "My God, it's so wet." Once fully inside, he wriggled his fingertip, sending pulses of pleasure throughout every inch of her body.
He removed his finger, once again allowing it to lovingly rub the outside. His finger slid easily across her; she was wet everywhere now. She seductively grabbed his hair in her fists, giving a slight pull, her whole body tensing from the sensation of his finger hitting just the right spots.
He was so young, yet he knew exactly what to do.
Dylan took his time, alternating between the inside and outside, kissing her like he meant it. She pulled his body closer to hers, almost as if she wanted to become one with him. She deepened the kiss as tears developed in her eyes. This was more than just a sexual encounter. This was about two people who understood each other—who came from similar, horrible backgrounds—and Melissa had never experienced anything quite like it.
He eventually removed his hand from her, positioning himself so he was above her. He never let his lips leave her mouth as he slowly entered her, moaning softly as he went inside. "So good," he whispered between kisses. "This feels so good."
He filled her slowly and deliberately, his whole body moving with the rhythm. "My God," she whispered with a shaky breath. "You. Are. Incredible." She closed her eyes as waves of pleasure rippled through her entire body. She couldn't kiss him deeply enough. She couldn't hold him close enough.
She could have done this forever, and it still wouldn't have been enough.
Even though she didn't want him to, Dylan slid out of her and got on his knees. He propped the pillows against the headboard again, wordlessly taking a seat with his back against them. "Come here," he said, his penetrating brown eyes fixed on hers. "Come sit on top of me."
She looked up and down his amazing body, unable to believe how badly she wanted him. She crawled over to him, straddling him on her knees, her breasts planted squarely in his face. He kissed every inch of her chest, working slowly back and forth from breast to breast. His hands cupped her as his tongue and lips caressed her everywhere. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, only heightening her desire.
She reached down and guided him to her, slowly easing herself onto him. Once he was fully inside, she rolled her head back, unable to handle just how good he felt. She started to rock, allowing the tip of him to massage her in just the right place. Tilting her head back upright, she looked him square in the eye, his rugged expression only adding to her fury.
It had never been like this for her before, and she doubted it could ever be again.
She moved slowly on him, not in any hurry to end this feeling. Dylan seemed to be getting eager, placing his hands on her hips, guiding her, urging to move just a little bit faster. He let out a throaty grunt, signaling the sensation was escalating for him. As much a Melissa didn't want this to stop, the thought of making him climax was exhilarating, so she sped up the pace just a little more. Steadily, she wriggled faster; the quicker she moved, the more he moaned. Eventually, his groaning became frenzied, and he announced, "Here it comes, baby. Are you ready? 'Cause you're gonna get it."
With those words, he threw his head back and closed his eyes, grunting rhythmically as he came inside of her. She stopped when he finished and took in the sight of his beautiful face. He seemed so peaceful, like he hadn't a care in the world. The look was becoming to him; he should have worn it always.
It was too bad the world had worn him down at such a young age.
She stayed on top of him, studying him, feeling him shrinking down inside of her. The sensation of him softening hit her in waves, causing her to jump a little each time. She giggled from the sensitivity.
He looked up at her and smiled in a way that she could feel in her heart. "Wow," he said, "that was...something."
She laughed. "Indeed it was."
"Somehow we just keep topping ourselves."
"I don't think that can go on much longer," Melissa replied honestly. "I can't imagine it getting any better."
"I'm not so sure about that," he replied with a sexy squint. "And even if it is true, I think we should keep on trying."
Melissa still felt euphoric as she walked through the door of her house. She threw her purse on the table and went to the refrigerator, pouring herself a glass of water. She remembered that recently, Dylan had playfully put a cup on her breast, and she couldn't help but smile at the image.
He was simply adorable.
Her phone rang, and she noticed Jim was calling. Her mood instantly sobered; she was glad she wasn't still at Dylan's. She shook her body free of the thoughts she had been having, doing her best to act naturally when she answered.
The conversation was painfully normal. England was stressful. He had no idea when he'd be home. Every solved problem resulted in two more. She'd heard every word of it before. She might as well have been listening to a recording.
She hung up with Jim, slipping her phone back in her purse. While she was in there, she pulled out her wallet and counted the cash inside it.
Chapter 22
The red X's
filled the page as Melissa inspected the calendar. Dylan had just become free of his house arrest, but he was still in need of housing and rides, so their arrangement continued.
This particular morning, he didn't have to work, and she decided this would be the perfect opportunity to surprise him. She took her time in the shower, shaving herself more than usual. She played seductive music in the background as she carefully did her hair and make-up, trying to subtract a few years from her face. Once she felt the look was complete, she pulled her black lace nightgown out of her drawer and slid it slowly over her head, careful not mess up her appearance. After pulling on the strappy heels, she threw on her long coat, grabbed a homemade pie out of the fridge and headed over to Dylan's.
Her nerves tingled as she drove, wondering what his reaction was going to be when he saw her in her outfit. Surely, he was going to react more strongly than her husband had. She envisioned his eyes scanning her body as he immediately became erect. She wondered if he would even say anything or if he would just take her into the bedroom and instantly start having his way with her.
She pulled in his driveway, grabbing the pie out of the passenger seat. She carefully worked her way up his sidewalk, desperate not to slip in her shoes. After making it to the top step, she rang the doorbell, her heart racing.
A bare-chested Dylan opened the door. He cast her a rugged look, saying, "Hey."
A beautiful young blond woman appeared behind him, wearing the same threadbare shirt Dylan had slept in a few weeks before. She smiled sweetly, innocently asking him, "Oh, is this your aunt?"
"No," Dylan told her, his cold stare never leaving Melissa's face. "It's my landlord."
There was no air.
Melissa tried to breathe, but nothing happened.
She stood there wordlessly, her mouth open, unable to move.
"You brought us a pie," Dylan said kindly, reaching out and taking the dish from her hands. "That was nice of you."
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