by Scott, Talyn
“I want to help you.”
Dylan nodded. “I’m taking a few personal days, canceling my next trip to France.”
“I’ll take your files, then.” Julian sidestepped the fallen spreader bars. “Evan or Drake will fly to Provence.”
“I’m going to ask Avery to do the same, to take a few days off.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Before I forget, I want Marla gone from Level 69. Permanently.”
Julian hooked a thumb in his waistband. “She might annihilate you in the press afterwards.”
Dylan wouldn’t back off. After Helen died, he lived his life in fear and guilt. But when he became a man, he dropped the fear. “I’m calling Michael and demanding he legally ban Marla from all Easton properties.”
“If you’re sure, I will have her escorted from the club now,” Julian said, shooting an immediate text to Level 69 security.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Dylan dared, recalling how the crooning Noah Wyatt was fast becoming a pain in the ass. “In the interest of keeping my friends close and my competition closer,” he said, “I want to do a highly generous and completely anonymous favor for one of Payton’s dearest friends.”
Twenty minutes later, the welcoming Sarasota breeze kissed Dylan’s skin as he left Tower Amore with new purpose. He had a plan and a woman to claim, once and for all.
Familiar heels stomped behind him. “Dylan, wait!”
He couldn’t handle anymore from her, and he turned to Marla with a sneer. She was all lips and hands, coming at him like a missile wearing stilettos. Marla locked his neck in a death grip and fused her mouth on his. He immediately disengaged her, holding her at bay with one hand, while wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “You keep surprising me. I would have thought you’d embarrassed yourself enough for one lifetime.”
Fire flared in Marla’s eyes as Michael jogged around the corner, taking her in hand to escort her off property. “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough with your fat redheaded whore?”
Dylan’s lips curled. “Count yourself lucky that you’re a woman, since that’s the only thing stopping me from snapping your neck.” He walked away from them, thinking that sleeping off the rest of this night sounded good about now.
Chapter 6
Sensing an empty bed, Payton rolled over. “Noah?” She pushed back the covers, swung her legs around, and placed her feet on the unforgiving tile floor.
Noah stuck his head in the doorway. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I think so.”
“Need anything for pain?”
“Nope.” She stood up and took a few steps, stretching her body as she went along. “I don't think I'm going to need those muscle relaxers the doctor gave me, either.” She turned around and gave him a smile, while pushing her hair from her eyes. “In fact, I feel pretty good considering.”
Noah winced. “If the side of your face didn’t look like someone took a baseball bat to you, I would believe you.”
Lifting her chin, she asked, “Is that coffee I smell and, um, cinnamon?” She walked to the door, tugging down the T-shirt Noah had worn last night.
“We are in luck.” He rubbed his hands together. “Dad scored Nana’s famous cinnamon rolls yesterday.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” She followed him down the hall, stopping in the small kitchen painted sunshine yellow and perching eagerly on a peeling white barstool.
“I wouldn’t kid about something serious.” Noah put on an oven mitt and pulled the rolls from the oven. “Dad heated these before he left for work.”
“I feel bad about waking him before dawn.”
“Don’t,” he said, “this was the best place for us to catch up on sleep. We’ll meet Libby at the firehouse this afternoon and regroup.” He settled the pan on a trivet and grabbed a spatula. “I keep telling that old woman to market these, but she’s determined to remain poor.”
“And happy,” she reminded, “don’t forget Nana’s contented with her life, poor or otherwise.” Payton grabbed the coffee pot and refreshed Noah’s coffee, before pouring a cup for herself.
“All right, I’ll give Nana credit for being happy.” He placed a fat cinnamon roll on a paper plate and slid it in front of her with a fork and napkin. “She’s a lot happier than I am, that’s for sure.”
Payton cut the roll down the middle, lifting one half with her fingers. “You should be thrilled about last night’s gig.”
“Easton owned or not, I didn’t have any choice but to take that gig.”
“I know.” Payton nodded. “You can’t let the band down over our business. It’s a well-known place in club circuits, and that’s great exposure for you guys.
”
“I wish we were invited to play longer, but Club Saturday never allows newbies to play a full set.” He stared at her over his coffee mug, his thick flaxen lashes curling at the ends.” If I’d stayed there any longer than I had” — he took a sip —”I shudder to think what would have happened to you.”
“I’m fine,” she reminded him.
“I want to kill the fucker who dared to put his hands on you.” He flattened his hands on the counter, and then his long tanned fingers curled into fists.
Both exhausted, they’d spent half the night in the emergency room, where Noah refused to leave until the doctor told him she needed only a couple of butterfly bandages to her temple, and muscle relaxers for a mild neck sprain. Her face and collarbone were tender, so was her jaw when she chewed, but her overall bodily situation could have been worse. “We have to figure out who’s doing this.” Her assailant’s weird kiss revolted her. “Why was my attacker so intimate with me?”
“You’ve got me, but the officers weren't especially motivated.” Noah pushed her plate of half-eaten roll towards her.
“After the police took my report,” she mused, “do you think they really investigated the gallery?”
He tapped her plate, raising his brow. “Sure, for about five minutes, the same amount of time they investigated my poisoning. Eat your breakfast.” She glanced at her stomach hidden beneath Noah’s shirt. When her eyes came back to his, he glared furiously at her. “Don’t start, Pay. I don’t want to hear anything about calories, clothes that are too tight, or the way something jiggles when you walk.” His eyes softened. “I happen to enjoy watching anything that jiggles on you, so eat that cinnamon roll on your own or I’ll feed you myself.”
On cue, her stomach growled. Payton snatched the other half and gobbled it.
Leaning on the counter, he said, “In case you haven’t noticed from all the attention you received at the club last night, not every man wants skin and bones.”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You always date skin and bones.”
“Real women shouldn’t act so gun shy around me.” He screwed up his pretty-boy face in indignation. “I hate being with a woman I feel like I’m going to break in half with one good thrust,” he stopped, smiling meekly. “Never mind, I don’t want to talk about that.”
Payton didn’t want to talk about his sexual escapades, either. “Happy?” She asked, pushing her empty plate his way.
He reached and trailed his fingertips over her damaged temple. “With you hurt? Not hardly.” He tossed her plate in the trash and walked around the small counter. After staring at her a long moment, Noah took her in his arms and helped her from the barstool.
All this could be hers, Payton thought as his bare, sinful chest pressed against her face, if she could forget everyone else who’d touched him before. And everyone else who would touch him right after Noah finished with her. His smattering of blonde chest hairs tickled her cheek, and she stupidly nuzzled him. “I wish that asshole, Trey Easton, would have bought out Libby also instead of only offering to buy our shares of the firehouse.”
He had one hand on her lower back and the other on her nape. “There’s something going on there that we don’t know about, and I’ve interrogated Libby until I’m blue in the face.
She’s giving nothing away.” He stepped back and tugged her to the side screen door. Payton followed him outside, inhaling the salty morning air. The sun-worn deck creaked with every step. “For three best friends, we have a lot of secrets lately.”
Pulling her back into his arms, he lowered his head and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell her about Dylan Easton’s past.”
She met his eyes. “Only until our firehouse problems have settled down. Did Libby tell you that her father lost his money?”
Noah’s mouth dropped open. “No.” He turned and squatted. “Hop on.” He waited for her to jump on his back.
“Yeah, he’s broke.” Refusing Noah would only lead to another spat about her weight, so Payton climbed on and gripped his biceps. He descended the few steps leading to sugar sands on miles of beachfront.
After Noah had driven them to his father’s beach house around dawn, Payton had showered and then hand washed her panties in the bathroom sink. She’d forgotten that part until her bare core hit snugly against his equally bare back.
“Well, we’ll leave Ron to worry about his financial ruin.” His hand slipped around her hip. “We have enough on our plates.” Lower still, his fingers wandered. “I saw your panties hanging over the shower rod.”
“You know how tired I am, and you tricked me!” She smacked the top of his head teasingly.
“Maybe you weren’t paying attention, but I didn’t trick you.” Those long fingers pressed into her skin as he stared over his shoulder. “You have no idea how good you feel against me, baby.”
He was too beautiful, and she forced her eyes to look away. “Noah,” she warned, wiggling until he released her.
Her feet hit the sand, and his eyes lowered to the shirt’s hem, where the cotton met her thighs. “Do you remember anything else about last night?”
“Besides the fact you used me as your personal teddy bear? No, I don’t. It’s strange how I shirked the security Dylan placed on me, and then when I needed it the most…”
Noah’s head dipped low, his mouth pressing against her throat. “It’s too much to take, thinking about what could have happened to you.”
“Let’s stop thinking about what could have happened,” she pleaded as his arm curled around her waist. “I’m here. I’m alive.” His opposite hand lifted the hem, higher, higher, higher, until his fingers found her back crevice. She shuddered.
“Payton,” he groaned against her throat. “Payton,” he repeated, trailing the curvature of her butt lightly, tenderly. However, his body hardened in stark contrast, going rigid with every swipe of his hand. His erection pressed impossibly against her stomach, a fierce branding tempting her.
Warmth tickled her belly. “When is your Dad getting off work?”
“We have hours, Pay.”
“Hours?” Hours with nothing to do wouldn't help her situation. Payton needed distractions, like working on the firehouse’s To Do list, so she could avoid this sort of intimacy. Staying at the beach house would test her resolve with Noah.
“I know we’ve had a lot to deal with, that this isn’t the right time, but I can’t help but asking,” he whispered, “what you thought about my dedication to you.”
“You said you love me.” She fought the urge to curl her calf around his, to open her legs to his touch. As it was, her inner thighs were growing slick with need. But she wouldn’t fool herself into thinking she truly wanted Noah, since Avery and Dylan in bed were flickering across her mind at an astonishing pace. “But we’ve always loved each other as friends.”
“I’m in love with you.” He trailed his fingers up to her lower back, circling there before resting his palm against her. “Big difference.” His opposite hand went under the front of the shirt, pressing his palm against her lower stomach. Noah held her in his vice. “I hated seeing you dance with other men. It took everything I had not to tear off the stage and throw you over my shoulder.”
“Don’t.”
“I know you think you don’t want me…this way.” His eyes matched the sea, welcoming yet dangerous. “So I tried last night, I really did.”
“You tried what?”
“To shove my feelings down and bury myself with another woman, but I couldn’t go through with it.” He dropped his hands, his face forlorn. “I don’t know what to do with these feelings, Pay. Tell me what to do with them, if you won’t have me.”
“My head is so messed up right now, Noah.” She headed to the sea. “If I cave in…No, I can’t.” Kicking up the sand until her toes hit water, she explained, “I’ve been through so much pain this week over men I -”
He froze. “Men?”
Before this, only Libby knew Avery was also in the picture. “Yeah, I was involved with Avery Easton as well as Dylan,” she replied sheepishly, though she refused to be embarrassed.
“They tag teamed you?” he snarled. “You were a virgin!”
“Only Dylan took me in that way,” she snapped. “Don’t make it sound like something dirty. It wasn’t nasty at all. On the contrary, in my mind, what we shared was nearly perfect.”
“Perfect?” His hands went in the air, palms up. “I’m shocked at you!”
“I don’t see why men are judgmental regarding women’s sexual choices.” She patted her chest. “Those choices are mine to make. If I want to sleep with as many men as you have women…well, that’s a bad example.” She studied a Blue Heron flying overhead. “But I don’t deserve to be labeled a slut or a whore, when I’m not.”
“I never said that!” He stormed through the water, until he stood ankle deep, soaking the bottoms of his jeans. “I’m the slut, the man-whore! And I’m insanely jealous, wishing I could be the man you deserve. But every time I touch you with these hands, you feel just as dirty as I do. Because I’m not worthy of you.”
“That’s how you see yourself, as something dirty?” She stepped right next to him. “That you’re not worthy?”
Staring down at her, he asked, “Isn’t that the way you see me?”
“No, I see a man using women to escape his past.” She searched the depths of his eyes. “But you’re wrecking your present and your future by self-deprecating behavior.” She kneeled, urging him down next to her. Placing her hands on the outside of his, she scrubbed them in the gulf water. “Wash it away. You’re not your mother.” She kept scrubbing. “Wash it away. You’re not my father.”
When his shoulders finally slumped, she took her hands from his and urged him on his back. He eased atop the wet sand, the smaller waves going in and out against the left side of his body. His blonde hair sticking to the side of his face, the sun glinting in his eyes, Payton had never seen Noah more beautiful.
He pulled her astride him, her bare core spread against his stomach. The stiff blonde hairs trailing beneath his navel to the Promised Land stimulated her drenched sex. With his wet hands, he cupped her breasts, contouring the thin fabric around her curves, working her stiffened peaks with his nimble fingers. Dropping his hand, Noah lifted the T-shirt until he caught a glimpse of her lower coppery curls. His eyes widened in appreciation as his low voice vibrated across her skin, “I could stare at you all day, touching you everywhere my eyes land.”
“You shouldn’t touch me this way,” she countered. Payton moved to disengage herself from him, but her wet knees slid against his rippling abs. “I think you love the idea of me.” She braced her hands on his wide shoulders, staring down at his hard chest. “I’m your security, the one who’s always there. But you’ll never meet the real one if you keep nailing those faceless women, Noah, never.”
“I know, Pay.” With his fingers, he threaded her hair, pulling her face to his. Noah kissed a line across her cheek. In the barest of whispers, he declared, “I know, because I met the real one already and that’s you.” Sliding his palms around the backs of her knees, he moved his hands up her thighs, parting them wider. “I don’t expect to take you today, baby. You’ve been beaten badly and I’m a deman
ding lover.” He molded his hands to the globes of her ass, pressing down until her swollen nub found his zipper. “What I mainly want to do,” he murmured, “is taste you.”
Fire licked her body. Still, Payton reminded herself this was lust. Anyone would experience raging lust with Noah Wyatt grinding his bulging zipper across her aching pink flesh. “But I’ve fallen in love with -”
“Don’t say it,” he growled. Moving a hand, he deliberately brushed his thumb over her clitoris, circling, circling, and circling. “Let me pretend its me you love.”
Throwing her head back, she clenched her teeth. “I would just be using you to forget them.”