"Ah," she said with a nod. They were back to this again.
"Yeah. One in the backseat, and one in the passenger seat." He made a motion with his hands. "It reclines really far."
"That's fantastic," she said dryly.
"It was good sex, too." He shifted his position so he was facing Melissa. "I made each of them scream. I mean, their legs were trembling."
She looked over at him, calmly stating, "The baby's name is James Junior. He's named after his father."
Dylan let out a laugh. "Well played."
"Why, thank you."
"You know," he said, waving his finger at her, "I've never met anyone quite like you."
She twirled her hair in her fingers, wordlessly waiting for him to continue.
"You're absolutely fucking heartless," he went on. "I mean, I thought I was good, but you..." He shook his head. "I could learn a thing or two from you."
"Like I told you before, experience makes all the difference." She flashed him a smile. "I've been manipulating people since you were a toddler."
"I can tell," he said. "You made it so I wouldn't even eat the fucking enchiladas."
"I have to confess," she began, "I often wondered what you were thinking while you were in prison. I mean, I did fuck you over pretty badly."
"I was torn," he replied. "On one hand, I hated you. I mean, I hated you. But on the other hand, I respected you, and I was genuinely impressed with that stunt you pulled. I just wished I hadn't been on the receiving end of it."
Melissa looked at her lap.
"I also spent a lot of time thinking about that blond girl, Shelby. Remember her? She had quite a body on her."
In spite of herself, Melissa felt a twinge of jealousy.
"Memories of what she used to do to me got me through those long nights in jail." He rubbed his stubble. "I should probably look her up. You know...give her a proper thank you."
"Mmm. Great idea."
"Oh," he remarked, snapping his fingers, "there is something else."
Melissa felt her guard go up. "What?"
He looked off into the distance as if he was contemplating something. "I do need a little bit of money."
Melissa froze.
"Yeah. I'm running a kind of short..."
In an instant, she knew she'd been had.
"I was thinking that maybe you could spot me a few bucks. Although, I don't necessarily see myself paying you back. Not in cash, anyway." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
She stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek.
"My repayment to you will be to keep my trap shut," Dylan went on. "And, apparently, I need to not come around here, either, because James Junior looks just like me. Surely the neighbors would talk..."
Closing her eyes, she didn't respond.
"I'm thinking five-hundred a week might cover it."
"You're an asshole."
"Oh, but you're the master, remember? I spent nine fucking months in jail because of you...or, actually, because your husband is apparently unwilling to fuck you, and somebody had to give you a baby."
Disgust rose into Melissa's throat.
"It's a little pathetic that you had to choose a man under house arrest, isn't it?" he asked. "I mean, the only guy you could get into bed was one who didn't have access to any other women." He shook his head. "That's really sad."
Looking off into the distance, she muttered, "I never should have let you out of jail."
"But you did," he said softly, inching his way toward her. Whispering in her ear, he added, "And your baby looks just like me. The way I see it, that could be a problem."
She closed her eyes, wondering how she could be filled with so much hate and so much desire at the same time.
"So," he said in a low, deep voice, allowing Melissa to feel the heat of his breath. "What's it going to be?"
She lifted her chin, keeping her eyes closed. "Five hundred a week," she told him, "and not a dime more."
Dylan remained dangerously close to her for another moment before eventually whispering, "That's my girl." He slowly leaned away.
Unsure if she meant the words, she found herself saying, "I think you should leave now."
He crossed his ankle over his knee. "See, I don't think I'd like to leave without a check."
Melissa instantly got off the couch, heading for her purse, putting J.J. in his swing on the way. Without a word, she wrote out the check and ripped it out of her wallet, walking over to Dylan and slapping it into his hand. "There," she announced. "Now you can go."
"You seem so bitter," he replied condescendingly. "I was hoping we could be friends."
"I'm not entirely sure that's possible, all things considered."
"Come on. We have a baby together."
She closed her eyes for a moment, choking down her repugnance.
Dylan stood up off the couch, sauntering slowly toward the middle of the room with a smirk on his face. "You know something?"
Melissa didn't answer.
"That baby." He pointed in J.J.'s direction. "That little boy right there...he's half you and half me. Do you know how fantastically diabolical he will be?"
"I've thought of that," she admitted.
"That kid will either be the president or the most legendary conman of all time."
"I was thinking he could be both."
Dylan let out a slight laugh, taking a few steps, making his way toward Melissa. He studied her, squinting, as his eyes took in every inch of her face. He reached out his hand, tracing his finger from her temple, down her cheek and across her jawline.
She tried to maintain her resolve, but she found herself unable to breathe.
"You know," he said softly, "if ever that baby needs a little brother or sister, I'm only a phone call away."
With that, he turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
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