by Parker Swift
“Dylan. I’m not saying you should be mean to her, but can you imagine how this feels? What this seems like? You’ve given me six versions of the ‘no dating, no public’ speech, and you’ve made it perfectly clear that we’ll never be together, that the buck stops with our agreement that we’ll fuck like teenagers and then move on. Then I see your photo, her photo, the two of you so together, so public. I felt like a fool.”
I heard him sigh yet again on the other end, and it seemed like a full minute passed. “I’m sorry.” He said the words quietly, and they sounded almost foreign coming from his mouth.
“I could just…Well, if you know a photograph like that has been taken, or if you see it in the paper, I’d prefer it if you were the one that told me about it. Finding it on my own and you not telling me made me feel like you were keeping it from me.”
“Lydia, the truth is I let them photograph us.”
“What? Why?” His apology had tipped the scales in his favor, and now I was instantly hurt all over again.
“To throw them off your scent.” Was he serious? What, were we in some kind of caper movie now? “You’ve been at my house a couple of nights. You and I left that party together—who knows who saw, and then there was the Market. I want to protect you from those vultures, Lydia. If they want to think I’m dating Amelia Reynolds, they can goddamn well think that. She’ll be thrilled about the media attention, and she’s used to it. As long as it’s not you they’re harassing, I don’t give a crap what they think.” I was taking this all in. “Lydia?”
I understood what he was saying and why he was saying it, but I didn’t like it. What one was supposed to say in this moment is that it was ok, but it wasn’t. Not really.
“Lydia?” he asked again.
“I hear you,” I said. “Can you understand that the world thinking you’re dating Amelia isn’t exactly my ideal solution to this problem? Can you imagine how else this might unfold? If you feel compelled to feel me up in public again only this time someone photographs us? Now I actually am an American harlot.”
“I would never let that happen.”
“Right. Well…” I could fight about this all night, but it wasn’t making me feel any better. I felt completely torn between wanting to hang up on him and wishing he were right there in my bed with me.
“You’re still mad.”
“I’m hurt, Dylan. And mad.”
“You need to trust me on this. I just want to protect you.” He sighed again as he said it. I wished I could see his face, could try to decipher what he was actually feeling.
I didn’t want to fight anymore, but I didn’t want to be the first one to give in either. I contemplated what to say as I rolled under the sheets.
“What are you doing?” he asked after another long beat.
“I just had a bath, now I’m lying in bed.”
“The bath? That has real possibilities. I can think of a hundred different ways I could make this whole thing up to you.” I smiled in spite of myself.
“Actually, I still feel kind of lousy, and I’m cold.”
“Baby. Turn the heat up. Stay home tomorrow.”
“Dylan, I’m fine. It’s not the 1950s. I’m not staying home because I have my period. Oh, and that reminds me, Lloyd is going to have to drop me off a block away from work if he takes me again. Josh saw me get out of your car this morning, and he was obviously suspicious as to how I had upgraded from the tube to a Jaguar overnight. I’m just telling you so that when you call Lloyd and ask him all about where I’ve been, you already know the answer to that one.”
“You know me well.” I wasn’t so sure, but maybe I was starting to.
“Where are you?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be off schmoozing?”
“I was supposed to be, but then my trying damsel in distress decided to get her knickers in a twist. Knickers she shouldn’t even be wearing.”
“Personally, I think it was your knickers that were in a twist, and they still need some straightening out,” I replied, and he let go a resigned chuckle. I could practically hear him cracking his neck, trying to release the stress. “You’re there to work. Go. And I do trust you, Dylan.” I was eighty-five percent sure that last sentence was true. Maybe ninety.
“Thanks, baby. I…I’m sorry about the photo, Lydia, but honestly, I’d do it again to keep those assholes at bay. Get some rest, baby. I’ll be back soon.”
* * *
Tuesday and Wednesday flew by in a flurry of activity. Most of the days were spent at Hannah’s studio readying the models and working on fittings. We were all there late every night, ordering in takeout and blasting music as we worked to get everything in order for fashion week. It felt like theatre, like summer camp, like we were on some crazy ride together. I was loving every minute.
Dylan provided continuous evidence that he was thinking about me. He texted religiously. There were fresh flowers on my doorstep daily. He’d found me a yoga studio, and booked me a class on Tuesday morning. Of course Lloyd had driven me, and there had been a yoga mat and all the accessories waiting for me in the car. He was thinking about me, making gestures, his version of an apology about Amelia ringing in loud and clear.
The yoga studio was in the Primrose Hill neighborhood, and we passed the park on the way. It was the closest I’d gotten, but I still wanted to sit on that hill in the sun and try to imagine my parents there, be in the place they were happy. I had imagined it would be the first place I’d go when I got here, but I was in my second week, and it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe I’d get there this weekend, but I was beginning to think I’d rather go alone, and I had a feeling Dylan would keep me occupied once he got back from Athens.
Thursday night Josh, Fiona, and I were still working with Lucy, one of the assistant designers, at 6:45, and we decided to order dinner in. I quietly texted Dylan to check in, and he replied immediately,
THURSDAY, 6:47 pm
Let me know when you get home safely? At stuffy benefit. Wish you were with me.
THURSDAY, 6:48 pm
You wouldn’t be bored if I were there. But I’m here, wearing my panties. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
THURSDAY, 6:50 pm
You miss my palm on your ass, do you? We can take care of that soon. But on second thought, I want you wearing panties when I’m not there. No one but me needs easy access.
THURSDAY, 6:51 pm
And I thought you were a gentleman
THURSDAY, 6:51 pm
You thought wrong. Gotta go.
Getting to Friday night was torture. Dylan said he’d be back that night, and in the meantime minutes passed as hours. Ever since Dylan Hale had come into my life there was a permanent knot of desire in my belly, an ache between my thighs that made me edgy and alert. It never seemed to dissipate. If I was lucky I could hold it at bay, but if I so much as thought of him, I felt myself dampen. As much as I loved the idea of going out with my new friends, and I knew I needed to, I didn’t know how I’d make it until the end of the night, and I still wasn’t sure exactly how and when I’d see him.
“Do you have a good clubbing dress, Lydia?” Josh asked, as we were leaving the office. I’d agreed to go clubbing with him, Fiona, and one of the designers that night. He was looking at me like this dress business was a very serious matter.
“Um, I’m sure I have something. Tight? Short?”
“Definitely.” Josh confirmed. “And, Miss Bell, you have the perfect little bod to pull it all off. Seriously, how do you stay so fit? I saw you inhale that fancy lunch. Where does it all go?”
I shrugged. “I told you—cocaine! Plus—” I pointed at my chest “—no boobs to speak of!”
“Oh shut it. Fine, keep your diet secrets to yourself. Also, so many guys dig little boobs.”
“He’s right,” interrupted Fiona. “These enormous things are a blessing and a curse.” Fiona was well-endowed to say the least, and she completely pulled them off.
“Ok, Lydia,” Josh said, clearly impa
tient to get to the fun part of the evening. “Go home and find a frock. We meet at Fiona’s in two hours. Takeaway, cocktails, I’m going to go crazy on your makeup.” Well, at least this would be a good distraction until Dylan got home. I sent him a quick text letting him know my plans and hoping that somehow he’d become a part of them. Fighting while he’d been away had made me even more eager for or reunion.
I waved goodbye and turned to walk towards the tube, but as I rounded the corner I saw Lloyd smiling at me. What was he doing here? He gestured down the street, and I could just see the bumper of the Mercedes peeking out from a driveway. I all but ran towards the car, and as I approached I could see those long lean legs through the slightly open car door. My heart jumped from my chest right into that car. I was deliciously aroused in a heartbeat—his mere presence catapulting me from on edge to totally fucking ready.
Chapter 25
I leapt into the car and crawled eagerly into Dylan’s lap, straddling him as he shut the door behind me. He laughed. “Miss me?” His hands immediately went to my shirt, untucking it, and finding the bare skin above the waistband of my skirt.
“Desperately.” I rested my elbows on his shoulders and put my hands in his hair, gripping. I wanted so much to be kissed, but not being able to wait, I knelt down and sank my mouth onto his. He immediately returned the favor, prying me open with his tongue, giving soft licks to my palate and rimming my lips. He grabbed my lower lip between his teeth, bit gently, and pulled.
“I should go away more often,” he said, smiling seductively.
“Please don’t.”
“Or I should just bring you with me. This would have been fun.” His hands were pushing my skirt up my legs. He reached my ass and paused when he had a run-in with my thong. “Tsk tsk.” He grabbed the elastic and it snapped against my hip. “Naughty girl. Let’s rid you of these, shall we?” Thankfully Lloyd was standing back on the sidewalk, and the tinted windows and alley walls meant we were mostly protected from the wandering eyes of passing pedestrians. He grabbed the lace on each side and slid the thong off one leg, as I hitched it up, and then the other. He fisted them and put them in my purse. “I’m going to have to hide your knickers, Lydia. I don’t intend to leave you long enough for you to ever need them again.”
Fucking hell, I was saturated with desire. I could feel my blood humming through my veins—all sounds and sights beyond Dylan faded into the background.
“Kneel up, baby.” I looked nervously outside the rear car window.
“Don’t worry, I told Lloyd to wait outside, and no one can see us.” Reassured, I complied and rose, allowing him to access his zipper and free his thick hardness from his briefs. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a condom. “Three more days of this bullshit.” His impatience was evident as he tore through the wrapper with his teeth and handed it to me. I slid it on as fast as I could, trying to speed every second that was between now and when he would be firmly inside me. “Impatient, are we?” He was smiling. “Ok, baby, I’ll take care of you. We can do this fast, because the truth is I can’t wait either. But later we do this my way, understand? I need to get you back under me. And soon.”
“Whatever, boss man,” I replied, and without waiting for him, I grabbed his cock and sheathed him with my waiting sex, sinking him deep, taking more of him than seemed possible.
I was instantly relieved and let out a low moan. I wanted to stay just like this, being possessed by him and possessing him, forever. He took over quickly. “Hands on my shoulders, baby.” I obeyed without hesitation. “That’s right, now lift yourself a little.” He let out his own moan as I shifted over him. “That’s my girl.”
I suspended myself on my knees a fraction, steadying myself with his shoulders, and then sank onto him. He used his hips and raised and lowered me to create a punishing ferocious rhythm. This was so physical, so intense, and I could hear my own moans escaping. I wanted nothing more than him, harder and faster. He was relentless, and as much as I wanted him, it was clear this time was not about slowly cultivating pleasure. He needed to get off and soon. And so did I. In confirmation, he hissed through his panting uneven breaths, “Touch yourself, baby. Find your way. I’m going to come soon—keep up.”
I reached down and found my clit between my fingers, but I didn’t need much to catch up—I was so ripe and ready for him. His muscles strained through his sleeves as he lifted and shifted me back to perfect the angle, power and control emanating from every inch of him. Finally, he rammed into me, pulling me down deep, and he stilled inside me as he came. The desire was radiating through me. I had come, but I still felt that needy ache in my belly.
“God, Lydia, in my fucking car? What’s wrong with me?” I started to move off of him, but he held me down. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He pulled me into his chest. I paused and took him in.
He withdrew and swiftly removed the condom, tying it off and shoving it back into its wrapper and into his pocket. Holding me by the waist, he looked into me and tucked my stray strands of hair behind my ear.
“You’re so fucking sweet.” He reached between us and slid his hand down to cup me. “And I know you need more.” I gasped as he quickly filled my still throbbing pussy with three of his fingers, pulling me taut and drumming against that sensitive spot inside me. “Your hungry, sweet pussy is perfect.”
I tilted my head back, taking him in. He felt so good. Then he slid his other hand behind me and pressed his thumb against my rear opening. “And so is this.”
Holy shit.
He gently pressed against the opening, working it slowly with his thumb and the dampness from my pussy. The dull ache became ferocious again. He was working me back up, and it was happening fast.
“Oh god, Dylan, I—” I felt so wanton, so sexy, so desirable under his touch. I’d never loved my body more than when he was touching it, commanding it. As soon as I felt like I was close, on the brink, he pulled back. “What? No, Dylan, please, don’t stop. I need your hands on me.”
He grinned seductively. “Should I let you come? You’re leaving me for the evening. Do you think that’s fair?” Ugh, he was so cruel. I needed him now. I was in a state of total desperation.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. Oh god, please, Dylan. Please. Please let me come.” My hair fell over my face, and I put my forehead against his. “Please. Pretty please.” I gave him the sweetest plea I could muster in my current state.
He laughed. “Well, how could I deny that?” He reached back and resumed his assault and unraveled me again. His expertise was astounding. He knew exactly how to work me over. There was no doubt he knew my body better than I did. He brought me to the surface within seconds, had me clawing at the window, gasping for breath, and feeling myself convulse. I lost control of my body completely, flying headfirst into my orgasm.
As I came down, I leaned my head into his chest, and cleared the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ears again. He was smiling and planting light kisses on my cheek. “It’s so fun to make you come,” he said, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.
“The pleasure was all mine—I guarantee it.”
“No, baby. Your pleasure is all mine, and don’t you forget it.”
I looked up at him, curious at his sudden possessiveness, and gave him a lifted eyebrow. “Don’t get too crazy there, mister,” I said, giving him a permissive smile.
He smiled back, but then said, with a plea, “I know I said you should date people, but can I ask you not to? I know it’s not fair of me, but Christ, Lydia, the idea of you with someone else makes me livid. Can I have you to myself? At least for a while?”
“Dylan. Don’t be an idiot. I’m yours, and you know it.” I was being honest, and it made him smile and hug me fiercely in return. But my admission was also said with a sigh, because I knew deep down that I should be dating other people. I was handing myself over without hesitation, offering my heart to him on a silver platter. And while it certainly wasn’t freaking him out, he
also wasn’t making any moves to return the favor. This could only end with my heart breaking.
He put himself away and pulled my legs in front of him, covering me with my skirt and cradling me in his lap as he knocked on the window, clearly his signal for Lloyd to return to the car. Lloyd smoothly navigated the streets of London back to my house. I could barely walk to the door, but I let us in, dropping my bag as I entered. I yawned and leaned into him again.
He laughed. “Sleepy? How are you going to go clubbing in this state?”
“I’ll be fine.” I yawned again.
“Come, take a disco nap.”
“No, I’ll never wake up again.”
“Trust me—I’ll make sure you wake up.”
He carried me to my bedroom, and stood me up. I had begun to lazily unbutton my blouse when Dylan put his hands over my own. “Let me,” he said softly. I dropped my hands, closed my eyes, and stood still as he undressed me. He freed my hair from its ponytail and ran his fingers through it. He tucked me into bed, and then surprised me as he sat down next to me with his laptop. “I’m going to work for a bit. Sleep now. I’ll wake you.” He stroked my arm with his fingers, and before I knew it I had drifted off.
Chapter 26
I woke a half hour later to Dylan’s erection at my back, still fully clothed. “Time to wake up, baby,” he whispered.
He rolled me onto my stomach, and I tried to shake my grogginess. My arms were stretched out behind me at my sides, my fingers grazing my thighs, and suddenly, Dylan lifted me by my hips and pushed my knees beneath me. In a matter of seconds, he had positioned me to his liking. I wasn’t even awake yet when I felt his palms stroking my bare ass. “Lydia, I think you need a reminder of who you belong to before you go out tonight. I want to mark this ass, and I want you to enjoy it, understand?” Well, he was definitely getting my attention. “Have you ever been spanked?”