Dylan catches a deep breath. “You’re welcome,” he says, his voice breaking on welcome. He makes me smile. He clears his throat before he says, “I have to go, if I want to make it back by four-thirty. I might be running a bit late as it is.”
“Okay. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Bye.” He hangs up, and I’m staring at my phone like a damn goof. He makes me so happy.
Jumping in the shower, I make it in record time. I dry myself off and pull on a pair of panties and the robe. True to Mandy’s word, there’s a knock on the door exactly ten minutes after she left. I answer the door to find her there, still smiling. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“You have no idea how ready I am.”
“Take your robe off, please, and get up on the table lying on your tummy.” Don’t have to tell me twice. “Do you have any skin irritations? Anything I should know about?”
“No, nothing at all.”
“I have a gentle oil I like to use. It’s scented very lightly with vanilla. Is it okay if I use this, or would you prefer a lotion for sensitive skin?”
“The oil is fine.”
“Great.”
She starts working on my shoulders and I think, this must be what heaven feels like. Instantly, my eyes close and I fall in love with the slow, rhythmic movement of her hands on me. She’s strong, yet gentle. “I think I want to marry you,” I try to say, but it sounds like a slur.
“Is that a marriage proposition? I’ll let my partner know I’m moving,” she says and laughs.
“Your partner can come with us.” Crap, did I just offer to have a threesome with her? “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.”
She laughs again. “It’s okay, I get daily proposals.”
“Damn it, I’m not the only one?” She works down my back, and gets right into my waist. “Oh yeah,” I groan when she applies the precise amount of pressure my body is craving.
I feel myself drifting into a very relaxed state, wishing it would never end.
On the brink of slumber, I feel her work my entire body. Every inch of skin touched by her magic hands. A few times I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. That would’ve been embarrassing, drooling on her table. But I’m sure that’s why she lays a sheet down first.
“Turn over for me please.”
Huh? What? She can’t be nearly done already. “No, keep going. Never leave,” I shamelessly beg as I turn. She places a towel over my breasts, keeping them covered. Working on my head, she massages my scalp. “Oh my God.” This is a thousand times better than getting my hair washed at the hairdressers. Holy crap. She is so good.
She lets out another small chuckle and continues de-stressing me.
I tune out, completely melting into the best massage I’ve ever had in my life.
I wake myself with a small snore, and realize Mandy’s already down to my legs. “Did I fall asleep?” I ask.
“You sure did. Only for about twenty minutes.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I take it as a personal victory if my clients fall asleep while I’m massaging them.”
“I hate to say it, but if you’re going to massage my feet, I’m afraid I’ll probably end up falling asleep again.”
“Lucky that’s my next spot.”
She works her way down my legs, and onto my feet. I’m higher than heaven. I never want her to leave. She finishes one foot and moves to the other, when the door opens. I don’t care who’s here, I’m loving every moment of this, enjoying it way too much to even look up to see who’s walked in.
“You look relaxed,” Dylan says as he stands at my head, and looks down at me.
“You have no idea,” my voice is tranquil. “I’m so lazy. I don’t want to move.” Suddenly a quick panic frightens me, and I feel my body to make sure I’m not exposed in front of Dylan. I think it would be uncomfortable for him to see me naked. I feel my body, and realize I have a towel covering my body from my chest to my thigh.
“I’m going to go down to the bar and have a drink while you’re getting your massage.”
“I should only be another ten minutes,” Mandy says.
“Take your time. I’ll be back in about twenty.” Dylan leaves, and I’m suddenly feeling guilty that I don’t want Mandy to leave.
Before I know it, Mandy’s finished. “How did that feel?”
“I’m marrying you,” I say without thinking.
“Maybe next time. But for now, I’ll have to decline,” she says while smiling.
“That oil you used. Wow. It’s so nice. And it’s not overpowering at all.”
“Thank you. Here, let me help you up.” She takes my arm, and assists. “You’ll feel tired, and you should probably rest. Tomorrow you may even feel a little stiff and sore. That’s all perfectly normal.” I get off the foldable bed, and get a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the room. Opening it, I guzzle it. “You’ll also be thirsty.”
“I’m feeling that.”
Mandy folds up her table and cleans up. She starts heading to the door. “Have a good night,” she says.
“Oh wait.”
I go to my purse to give her a tip, but she waves it away. “Mr. Dylan already took care of everything. Enjoy your stay here in Washington.” She smiles, opens the door and leaves.
I lay on the bed, and curl into a ball. I pray I don’t have to move for the rest of the evening. The door opens and Dylan returns. He comes over, sits on the bed beside me, and gently strokes my hair. “You look comfortable.”
“Do we have to leave? Can we stay here forever?”
“As much as I love the thought of staying here with you, that’s not going to work. But if you want, you can have a short nap before we head out for dinner.”
I close my eyes, wanting to whine that I don’t want to leave. But Dylan has been so generous and kind, I decide I’m not going to ruin anything he’s planned for us. “It’s okay. If I fall asleep now, I doubt I’ll wake up until tomorrow morning.”
“I’m going to go for a shower, so how about you stay in bed until I’m done? We can have dinner whenever you want.”
I look over at the clock. Holy crap. How is it possible that it’s nearly six? “Can we have dinner in about an hour?”
“Whenever you want.”
“Do I have to dress in something nice?”
“You can dress in whatever you feel most comfortable in.”
“Hmm,” I happily hum. “Smell here, I smell like vanilla.” I hold my wrist out to Dylan.
He takes my hand, smelling my wrist, then slowly pushes the sleeve of the robe up, peppering a trail of feather light kisses up my arm, and to my neck. My eyes roll back as I close them, and really let myself go in the moment. Dylan’s lips caress my blazing skin. I give myself over to him. He nuzzles into my neck, and lowers his body onto mine. His frame covers mine completely. I can feel him so close.
Our breathing increases, our mouths collide, and our bodies entwine.
“Shit,” he says, as he pulls away from me. “I’m, um, going for a shower,” he says then clears his throat.
Yeah, right. Well, what?
I hear the shower start, and I look to the door. Did I do something wrong?
I sit up in bed, and get changed into jeans and a t-shirt. I take my light cardigan and hang it on the back of the chair. Now I’m worried, afraid I did something I shouldn’t have done.
I hear the shower stop, and soon, the door opens. Dylan comes out, in nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips.
“Oh, come on,” I grumble.
“What?” Water droplets cover his body. His chest is ripped and he has a damned six-pack.
“Are you kidding me?” I point to his body. “You come out here, soaking wet with just a towel, and what? You think I’m not going to ogle you like some kind of porn star? Seriously, how is this fair? Especially considering you just rejected me too. You can’t do this.” I wave my hand up and down his perfect, lean, and quite muscular body. �
�And while we’re on the subject, why do you have such a nice body? I haven’t heard you once say you go to the gym. And if you tell me you don’t work out, then I’m going to throw you out the damned window. Because this isn’t fair.”
He’s laughing at me. “There’s a gym up on the tenth floor of my building. And no, I have to work to look like this. And the reason I rejected you was because it was moving way too quick and we haven’t talked about how fast you want that to happen. So…”
“Damn you,” I grumble. “I hate how…” I choke on the words I want to say, “…stupid you are.”
“Stupid?” He laughs.
“I’m going to go out to the balcony and sulk while you get dressed. I can’t deal with this at the moment.” I make a circular motion with my hand indicating his smoking hot body. “Just, get dressed.” I can hear him laughing as I walk out to the balcony, and sit in one of the deck chairs provided.
I hate how perfect he is. Well, not really. I love it.
Looking out, it’s still daylight, but the sun is sinking, and soon we’ll be plunged into darkness lit only by the half-moon that is already rising and the lights of the Capitol.
I fall into a fit of worry for Tina. She’s been on my mind ever since I met that dick, Preston. I’m so scared for her. And now that I know what he’s capable of, I’m even more frightened for her safety.
“There you are,” Dylan says, interrupting me from my heavy thoughts.
“Hey.” I look up at him, smiling. “This is a look I’m okay with.” I let my gaze fall up and down his lean body dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.
“What were you thinking about when I walked out? You looked like you were lost in thought.” He sits on the chair beside me.
“I was. I was thinking about Tina. If I’m being truthful, I was thinking how terrified I am for her safety with Preston. That photo you showed us of the woman he put in hospital…” I shake my head, unable to verbalize what I’m feeling. “If he can hurt a person like that, what else is he capable of?” I let my head fall into my hands, as I try to come to grips with everything. “What can I do to help?”
“You said that your parents are going to his house, and demanding to see Tina to make sure she’s okay, right?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Every day.”
“The fact she called you to warn you off, well it’s kind of a good thing.”
“How?”
“It means she not in the hospital.”
My stomach churns. I lift my head, and notice the last of the sunlight twinkling on his watch. I need to get my head away from Tina and the dire situation she’s in. “Tell me about your watch,” I say as I grab his wrist, and run my fingers over the black face. “Oh, it’s a Rolex.”
“It’s a Submariner.” He laughs at something he hasn’t told me. “Most guys like fast cars, or motorbikes, boats even. I’ve always admired a nice watch.”
“Okay. Nothing strange about that. Although, I’ve never known anyone to have a watch fetish. My Mom bought Dad a watch for their twenty-year anniversary. An Omega watch. It has a tan leather strap, and a white face. Anyway, Dad flipped over it because Mom spent like five thousand dollars on it. It wasn’t about the money. Dad is happy to spend that kind of money on Mom, or me and Tina. Dad’s just really humble. Doesn’t like too many fancy things.”
“That’s sweet of Paris to do that for Thomas.”
“So tell me what the story is with yours.”
He looks down at his watch, and smiles again. “Through college, I worked some crappy jobs, but I saved everything I could, because I wanted a Rolex. There’s all different types of Rolexs, but I really wanted this one. Anyway, I saved, and saved, and when I landed my first big-paying job, I managed to buy this. I had already saved two thousand dollars from working in college, and then when I got an unexpected bonus , it was enough to buy one of my favorite watches.”
“Your favorite? Does this mean you have others?”
“I do. But now, I’m saving to buy a Submariner Date.”
I stare at him because I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Speak Greek again, I love it,” I tease.
“It’s another Rolex model. Man, it’s so sexy. The band is gold, and the face is a cobalt blue. It’s heavy, and just wow… it’s stunning. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.” He shivers with excitement. I smile. When he talks about watches, his eyes come to life. He’s immersed in happy thoughts. Suddenly, his smile fades, and he sighs. “Sadly, I’m only about half-way to saving for it.”
I so want to know how much this watch costs. I know I shouldn’t, but come on. Anyone would want to know the price. “Is it more than the five thousand my Mom paid for the Omega?”
He can shut me down and tell me it’s none of my business, or he’ll tell me. “Considerably. This one here was about eight thousand. The one I’m saving for, is about thirty-five thousand.”
My head tilts, and my mouth falls open. “For a watch?” I ask, the pitch of my voice going too high.
“It’s an investment. People buy cars for that amount of money, and the car depreciates, I buy watches, and they appreciate. Especially if they’re kept in mint condition.”
I nod my head. I get it. “You have a valid point, Dylan. Who knew watches could be worth that much?”
“Ha! Thirty-five thousand isn’t even expensive.”
“There’s only one thing I can say. And that’s wow.”
He looks at his watch, then turns his head toward the balcony door. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Okay,” I say, standing. It’s an effort to stand fluidly, especially after that awesome massage.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Um, I don’t know now.” I look around, feeling awkward. “I’ll just sit again.” What’s happening?
“Just wait, okay?” Dylan stands, and heads inside.
I look out over to the Capitol Building which is lit up with bright lights. It’s not completely dark yet, but the sun is setting rapidly.
Dylan comes out to the balcony with numerous paper bags. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Dinner. I thought we could sit out here and enjoy the evening. The weather’s beautiful, the company is breathtaking, and I know the food is to die for.”
“Oh, really. Where’s tonight’s cuisine from?” I sit forward, and lick my lips.
He drags over a low table. “Well, tonight we’re going to Russia. I discovered this tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurants on one of the streets near the Lincoln Theatre when I came to Washington last year. It was pure accident that I found it. I tried some of their dishes, and well, loved them. So I had them make up an order of everything I loved, so we could share it.” He starts taking all these containers out of the paper bags.
“Russia? That’s a bit controversial, isn’t it?”
“It’s just about the food,” he says, grinning.
“How much did you order?” I ask as he takes out five rather large containers. One being round in shape and filled with a rich purple liquid. “What’s this?” I pick it up, take the lid off and smell it. There’s a beautiful earthy aroma to it with a tinge of sweetness.
“That’s beet soup. It’s called borscht.”
“Beets?” I screw my nose up, repulsed. “I don’t like beets, so I won’t try it.”
“Nope, sorry. You have to try everything. If you don’t like it after you try it, that’s fine. But you can’t decide you don’t like it without trying it.”
I softly growl at him. I hate when he’s right. I might love it. “Fine, I’ll try it.”
“Good. There’s a cold version of borscht, and a warm version. So a summer one and winter one. They’re each made differently.” He picks up a spoon, dips it into the soup and brings it up for me to try. I go to take the spoon. “No, I’d like to feed you.”
“It’s very runny, what if I miss my mouth?”
“Then you’ll have a stain down the front of your t-shirt. Now, open.” He pushes the spoon to
ward my mouth. Closing my eyes, I decide to fully submerge myself in the tasting of this soup. I savor the richness and the earthiness. It’s like nothing I’ve ever eaten before. I open my mouth again, wanting more. “It’s delicious, isn’t it?” I don’t answer, I simply wait for more.
But I don’t get any more soup. Instead I get something else. Opening my eyes, I look to see where he’s scooping from. “Yum. What’s this?”
“These are called pelmeni. They’re like a dumpling filled with beef and pork and served with sour cream and butter.”
“These are so good. What else do we have?” I ask excited to keep trying whatever he’s ordered.
“Try this.” He cuts what looks like a crepe. “These are called bliny, and can be sweet or savory. This one is filled with cheese.”
The entire thing melts in my mouth, and I can’t decide which I love more. “I’m in food heaven.”
“Now try this one. It’s called kasha. It can be a main meal, or breakfast, or even a comfort food when someone’s sick.” He takes the spoon, scoops up something that looks like oats. “This is a combination of grains, and depending what you add to it, depends when you can eat it. Add fruits and jams and you can have it for breakfast. Or like this one, onions, and mushrooms, and you can have it for dinner.”
“Everything is delicious. I’m not sure which of these dishes is my favorite. I think I need to try them all again.”
This time he hands me the spoon, and a fork. “I really love the bliny. Russian food is really convenient. It’s a food culture where one or two ingredients are changed, and you can have the same dish for either breakfast, or dinner.”
“You’ve got such great knowledge of food. And watches.” I look down at his wrist.
“When I love something, I find out everything I can about it.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. I wonder if he loves me. “I get it,” I say.
We continue to eat, enjoying each other’s company, watching the night take over.
With dinner finished, we clean up the trash and leave the few leftovers on the low table.
Echoes of You Page 18