A Fare to Remember

by Opal Carew

  “What? Damn it! Stevie, I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll get this all straightened out and I’ll compensate you for the lost income.”

  “I don’t want your money,” she snarled.

  “Okay, we’ll figure something out. Just please—”

  “Reid?” It was Dylan’s voice again. “She’s stormed off to the bedroom.”

  “Look, do me a favor and convince her to stay, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best, buddy, but … why is this woman so important to you?”

  He really didn’t know quite how to explain that. Probably because he really didn’t understand it himself.

  “We just … hit it off. I enjoyed being with her and I’d like to see more of her.”

  “Man, I can’t believe you picked up a cabdriver.”

  Reid gripped the phone tighter. “Don’t tell me you’re getting all snobbish on me.”

  Dylan just chuckled. “You know me better than that. I just think it’s funny. And a bit confusing. She’s not your usual type. Aside from the physical differences, she’s pretty feisty. You always go for the sweet, shy type.”

  “There’s just something about her I find refreshing.”

  “I get it. Women with a rebellious streak are hot. Makes you want to overcome that defiance. A real turn-on.”

  “And don’t let her clothes fool you. She has a sensational body under that loose-fitting shirt and jeans.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you know?”

  “Oh, damn. I’ve got to go. She’s halfway out the door with a suitcase.”

  * * *

  “Wait!” Dylan caught up to the woman before she rolled her suitcase and garment bags all the way onto the elevator. He hooked his hand around the door so it wouldn’t close. “Don’t leave.”

  Her eyebrow quirked up. “Why?”

  “Because I asked you not to.”

  The frown she sent him did nothing to diminish the prettiness of her face. Even though her sky-blue eyes were filled with annoyance, they were still wide and lovely.

  “I’m not really feeling inclined to do you a favor,” she said.

  “It’s not for me. It’s for Reid.”

  Her eyebrow quirked up in that cute way again. “I’ve done enough favors for Mr. Jacobs. I’m sure he won’t mind if I pass on this one.”

  Dylan’s mind instantly bounced to the type of favors the woman was hinting at and all he could think was that Reid was a lucky bastard.

  Dylan stepped inside the elevator. “I bet you have,” he said with a grin. “But he asked me not to let you get away.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

  He grinned. “I’d love to. I’m sure Reid has a pair of handcuffs around the place.”

  Her eyes widened and Dylan wondered if it was his brazen flirtation that shocked her … or the mention of Reid’s proclivities. Had Reid played the Dom last night?

  “Okay, I want to leave here right now so let go of the door.” Although her eyes had widened in alarm, now she pushed her shoulders back and stared at him defiantly.

  He released the door and it closed behind him. The elevator began to move.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that handcuff comment. I just thought…”

  “I don’t really want to know what you thought.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. We’ve gotten off to a bad start and I’d like to fix that.” He offered his hand. “I’m Dylan Cole. Call me Dylan. Reid and I are business partners and old friends. I thought Reid had headed back to Philly yesterday so I took a quick trip here to check on things. I’m sorry I intruded on your privacy. Please forgive me and let me take you out to lunch.”

  She hesitated, then finally placed her small hand in his and they shook. The feel of her soft fingers wrapped around his did things to his hormonal system that shouldn’t be allowed, especially with a woman who’d already been claimed by his best friend. Like heightening his senses, causing his heartbeat to race, and his groin to tighten.

  But there it was. Fuck, he couldn’t help wondering if Reid would consider sharing her.

  * * *

  Stevie released Dylan’s hand, a little shaken at his effect on her. He was big and masculine and every bit as sexy as Mr. Reid Jacobs, but in a totally different way, with his dangerous, bad-boy vibe. She wasn’t used to being thrown off so thoroughly by a man, yet two men in the space of twenty-four hours had her practically swooning at their feet.

  And both were disgustingly rich.

  Finally, he released her hand, she sensed a little reluctantly. Did she have the same effect on him? She wrapped her hand around the handle of her suitcase as he pressed the button for the lobby, then he pulled out his cell and tapped on the keys.

  She should get straight over to the impound lot to get her cab back, but she had to eat and an hour wouldn’t hurt. And it would be ungracious to turn down his peace offering.

  The elevator stopped and she followed him into the large, elegant lobby. Dark wood-paneled walls, large plants, taupe leather chairs and couches forming sitting areas, and gleaming mahogany furniture topped with fine crystal vases of fresh-cut flowers.

  Dylan led her out the front entrance and flagged down a cab. One pulled up in front of them and the driver got out. He took Stevie’s bags and put them in the trunk, then opened the door for her. It was odd being on the other end of things.

  She got into the car and Dylan got in beside her.

  “I’ve got to admit, I half expected you to lead me to a big motorcycle.”

  He grinned. “I would have. I rode my Harley here. But you have luggage with you, so I thought this was a better choice. Speaking of which, how about I have the driver take it back to the penthouse for you?”

  “Are you holding my luggage hostage so I’ll come back?”

  He shrugged. “If that’s what it takes. You did say you were going to see Reid again tonight. I don’t want to be the reason that doesn’t happen.”

  She really did want to see Reid one more time.

  “All right.”

  The driver pulled up to the curb and Dylan instructed him to take her bags back to the apartment building and ask the doorman to deliver them to the penthouse, then he gave him a big tip and guided her from the car and into the restaurant.

  “So how did you meet Reid?” he asked after they’d settled into their table with a fabulous view of the park and drinks had been served.

  “He got into my cab. He needed me to drive him a couple of places and…” She shrugged, embarrassed.

  “Do you like driving a cab?”

  She smiled. “I do. I like being behind the wheel, rather than in an office somewhere. I like the constantly changing view while I travel around the city, meeting new people, talking to them.”

  “Are your passengers usually friendly?”

  Her back stiffened. “I don’t sleep with most of them, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

  “No, of course not. I just wouldn’t think many people chatted with their cabdrivers.”

  She shrugged. “You’re right. Most sink into their electronic media, or chat with each other, but some, especially tourists, ask about the city.”

  “I think you like the freedom more than anything else.”

  He was right. As much as she liked to connect with people, she also enjoyed observing the passengers from the outside. Overhearing their conversations, seeing where they were going. Where they were coming from. Piecing together stories in her head about what their lives must be like. Not actually talking to them and hearing the mundane details allowed her to imagine fascinating tales with infinite possibilities.

  She even liked to write stories about them. Not that she’d ever told anyone about her writing. Or shown anyone her stories. She sometimes dreamed of one day getting them published, but for now it was just something she did to express herself. To try and tap into who she really was and where she was going in her
life. To explore possibilities.

  “You’re perceptive,” she said. “I do enjoy the freedom.”

  He shrugged. “I get it. I’m the same way. I’m an architect. I like to design things … be creative. I hate being stifled in a suit, or working a nine-to-five gig. I do the suits when I’m meeting clients, but on the whole I keep my own hours and wear what I like. And I love the open road. Taking off on my bike anytime I can.”

  The waitress set plates of hot food in front of them. Stevie squirted a bit of lemon on her salmon steak with dill sauce, then took a bite. It melted in her mouth in a delicate combination of flavors.

  “I’m glad you joined me for lunch,” Dylan said. “I’m especially happy for the opportunity to get to know you, since you’re seeing my best friend.”

  She put down her fork. “Wait. I’m not seeing your best friend. He and I spent the night together, and I’ll spend time with him again tonight, but I don’t intend to see him after that.”

  He frowned. “I don’t get it. You like Reid, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.” She wouldn’t have spent the night with him otherwise.

  “And he’s a great guy. Why won’t you see him again?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just … complicated. I’m a cabdriver. He’s a wealthy entrepreneur. We don’t exactly have a lot in common.”

  His eyebrow arched. “Is that really it?”

  She sighed. “Look, I don’t sleep with my passengers. This was a one-time thing and I don’t know what I was thinking. I was emotional after a bad breakup and finding my ass out on the street. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

  “Are you saying you regret it?”

  “No. It’s not that.” She didn’t want Reid to think that about the incredible night they’d shared. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to pretend what we had is any more than it is.”

  “But what if it could be? Why not give it a chance?”

  She frowned. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but … I don’t want to be involved with some self-absorbed billionaire type who thinks he can get whatever he wants by waving money or material things in my face. I slept with Mr. Jacobs because there was a mutual attraction, then I let him talk me into coming back again tonight. But that’s the end of it.”

  “I see. You have an aversion to wealthy men.” His midnight-blue gaze locked on her face. “I take it some bastard hurt you in the past.”

  If he only knew. But she said nothing and he nodded, clearly accepting her silence as confirmation.

  Then his hand rested on hers, sending tingles dancing up her arm.

  “We’re not all bastards, you know.”

  Chapter Seven

  Stevie could get lost in the blue depths of his eyes. Good God, she felt her barriers crumbling at the warm sincerity she saw there.

  “Maybe, but let’s just call this what it was. A hookup. Nothing more. I’m sure Mr. Jacobs will get over me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go and get my cab.”

  * * *

  With Dylan’s help, Stevie was reunited with her cab in short order. He’d insisted on driving her to the lot and paying for the towing fee and fines. He was also able to speed up the process.

  He opened the driver’s door for her and she slid inside.

  “Thank you for your help,” she said. “And lunch.”

  He stood with his hand curled around the top of the door. “My pleasure. I hope I’ll see you at the penthouse later.” He smiled. “I’ll make sure no one tows your cab this time.”

  “Good. Thank you. Now, if you’ll let me get to work … The clock is ticking.”

  * * *

  Stevie parked her cab in the underground spot in Reid’s building and walked to the elevator. It had been a long shift and all she wanted to do was relax. Though the thought of a rousing round of lovemaking with Mr. Reid Jacobs was reviving her spirits.

  She took the elevator up and stepped into the large penthouse, expecting to find Reid waiting for her, but instead she found a note telling her he was out for drinks with a client. She sighed and decided to take a nice, hot bath.

  Forty minutes later, she sat relaxing by the fire in the bedroom, reading a book.

  A thump in the other room jarred her and she realized she’d dozed off, the book laying closed on her lap. Was that Reid in the other room, or maybe Dylan? Or both of them.

  Heat stirred inside her and she remembered she’d been having a hot, erotic dream starring the sexy Mr. Dylan Cole. Well, actually he’d co-starred, along with big, dominating Reid Jacobs.

  She shifted in her seat, her thoughts turning to last night when she’d been with Reid. The way he’d had her call him sir. And master. Her insides quivered.

  Of course, Reid Jacobs was enough to keep any woman satisfied, but she sighed at the knowledge she would never be able to experience what it would be like to be in Dylan’s arms. That simply was not an option. He and Reid were friends and she knew their bro-code would not allow it.

  She stood up and walked to the bedroom door, tucking the silk robe she’d borrowed from Reid’s closet snuggly around her.

  She opened the door and waltzed out with a smile.

  * * *

  Reid stared at Stevie, who looked soft and feminine wrapped in his robe, wishing he had her wrapped in his arms right now.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got in.”

  She shrugged. “You had business. I understand.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  He walked toward her with a slow, purposeful stride. Dylan had told him that she didn’t intend to see Reid again after tonight.

  But all day, all he’d been able to think about was their wild encounter. And how sultry and sexy she was. He craved her like he’d never done with a woman before, the yearning sinking into his bones, encompassing his nervous system, until he could no more deny his need for her than he could give up air.

  She might have decided that a one-night stand was all she wanted from him, but he found that unacceptable, so he intended to convince her otherwise. And once he set his mind to something, he never failed.

  He took her hand and drew her close, gliding his arm around her waist. He kissed her palm, then pressed his lips to the pulse point on her wrist, noting with satisfaction the increase in her heart rate. He lowered his mouth to hers and she melted against him.

  * * *

  Stevie felt his hand at her waist, then the robe parted.

  Oh, God, she could hardly wait to be in his bed again, their bodies joined in intimate delight. There was something magical about what Reid did to her. From the tingling in her body that swept from the tip of her toes to the top of her head—and all her most intimate places in between—to the way it just felt … right around him.

  She may have been dreaming about Reid’s friend, but now that Reid was in the room … touching her … she could barely remember his friend’s name.

  As his fingertips brushed lightly over the naked flesh of her stomach, she expected … longed for … his hand to cup her breast … but instead she felt the sash slide from around her waist. She felt the fabric curl around her wrist, then his other arm curl more tightly around her as he used both hands to tie a knot, securing her wrist.

  “What are you doing?”

  But he propelled her backward into the bedroom, their bodies still close together, like dancers. He guided her to a wide, deep, easy chair in the corner and pressed her back until she sank into it. She forgot to protest as she watched him lift the hanging plant above her from the ring suspending it from the ceiling. He set the plant on the dresser, then pulled a small remote from the drawer. At a humming sound, she glanced up to see the ring lowering, attached to a sturdy metal rod disappearing into the ceiling.

  He threaded the sash through the ring, then grasped her other wrist and knotted the other end of the sash around it. Another push of a button on the remote caused the thick ring to split in two as the rod separated in a Y, pulling the
sash tight and drawing her arms apart.

  As fascinating as all this was, she remembered that she had intended to resist Mr. Reid Jacobs.

  “Wait, I don’t want to—”

  His lips stopped her words, his tongue pushing into her mouth, taking her breath away. Weak with need, she succumbed to the kiss. He was crouched in front of her, holding her against his solid body. When he drew his mouth away, she nearly cried.

  She gazed up at him with wide eyes and he smiled.

  “What was that you were saying? Would you like me to stop?”

  “No, please don’t stop,” she said breathlessly. God, the man simply devastated her senses.

  “Okay.”

  He pulled something from a pocket on the side of the chair and pressed it against her lips. A ball filled her mouth, attached to a strap he fastened behind her head.

  He pulled her ankle to the side, then curled a strap around it. He quickly fastened another around her thigh, keeping it secured to the chair. The restraints were built right into the leather armchair, cleverly designed to look like ornamentation. He drew her unbound leg to the other side, opening her thighs, then restrained it the same way.

  He leaned back and admired his handiwork, his focus on the straps around her legs. His gaze drifted up her thighs, held wide by the restraints, then slid up her robe—which had fallen open—coming to rest on the swell of her breasts. Her nipples were still hidden by the satin fabric, but the way they hardened, pushing against the thin cloth, she was sure he could see every detail of the pebbled surface.

  He smiled, with a purely predatory gleam, and his heated gaze leisurely drifted downward again, until it rested on her tiny, violet, lace panties. He stroked his finger along the lace adorning the top, sending quivers through her. Then his fingers tugged the fabric down, exposing a little more skin. Then a little more.

  She wanted him to press his fingers against her skin, then glide down and cup her intimate flesh. She wanted him to stroke her, then glide his thick fingers into her slick opening.

  But he drew his hand away. He watched her, surely seeing disappointment flicker in her eyes. Then he gathered long tresses of her wavy hair in his hand and brought it to his face. She watched his look of delight as he breathed in the scent of her herbal shampoo.