Exploring the Rules: The Dating Playbook, Book: 4

by Dietz, Mariah

  “I like when you’re bossy,” he says with a grin, his thumb grazing over my hardened nipple. His lips come down on my throat, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin as his hands skate along the sides of my breasts. I turn my neck, wanting to feel his lips everywhere as he rolls my nipples between his fingers, his tongue tasting my skin.

  I place my hand over his erection and smile when he groans against my neck, encouraging me to trace over his length.

  Tyler reaches for my sweatshirt and pulls both it and my tee clean off, his hungry gaze on my chest. Then he slides his hands gently into the waistband of my shorts and underwear, kissing me from my collarbone down to my breasts as he slowly begins to lower my shorts. He closes his lips over my nipple, gently biting into my flesh, making arousal pool between my legs. His fingertips skim over my chest, my abdomen, the few inches of my exposed backside where my shorts are still on, just lowered. He moves to my other nipple, flicking his tongue across the surface and making me moan as I bury my hands in his hair, trying to pull him closer, but instead, he traces a path down along my stomach, sliding my shorts and underwear to my ankles where they pool on the floor. He kisses me down to my pulic bone, making me shiver with anticipation. Sitting back on his heels, Ty looks up at me, like I’m something to marvel—something to praise. “God, you’re beautiful.” He places both hands on my hips. “Lean back.”

  I do without turning to see what’s behind me. My trust in him has become second nature and undeniable. The coolness of the leather couch hits the back of my thighs, sending a shiver through me before his hot mouth seals over my clit, the contrast in temperatures adding to the sensation and making my breaths turn harsh. “I want to come with you,” I tell him, trying to gain control over my body and fight the sparks of pleasure he’s orchestrating with his tongue and mouth and lips as he devours me.

  “Ty,” I whimper his name, my fingers twining in his hair as the tension in me grows. “I want you inside of me.”

  He runs his tongue flat against me as he emits a low growl, and then he’s standing, his chin wet with my arousal. I lean up and kiss him, my breasts grazing his chest as his hands cup my backside. “Turn around,” he says against my mouth. I do, my heart thrumming, my skin on fire, my body craving his touch. Tyler presses against my entrance, and I gasp, pushing my hips back as the anticipation squeezes my chest. “I need to see you,” he rasps.

  I peer over my shoulder to meet his scorching gaze. His fingers drag down my back, and then he thrusts into me, pleasure blazing so bright I see stars as he moves inside me. His tempo changes from slow and controlled to fast and hard, his hands gripping my waist, his eyes locked with mine, tracking my reaction to each of his moves. “You ruin me,” he says, his voice a low, guttural growl. “Tell me that you need me as much as I fucking need you.”

  He moves a hand to my clit, making my thoughts spin as I work to focus on his words through the clouds of pleasure that are making me come apart. His fingers are relentless, and his thrusts become harder and faster.

  “Tell me,” he demands again.

  “I need you,” I rasp. “I love you.” The words tumble out, raw and unguarded, making me feel a million times more vulnerable than any sexual position I could imagine.

  He pauses for a moment, laying kisses to my shoulder, and then his movements pick up faster, harder, losing all sense of rhythm as his fingers pinch my clit, distracting me from my admission as I begin to shatter, and then his heavy breaths grow louder as he thrusts deeper, and we explode together with an orgasm that leaves me limp as his chest comes down on my back, his arm barring around my waist. His breaths are still coming hard and fast like his heartbeats as he kisses the back of my shoulder and then slides out of me and moves back. The air feels icy against my heated body as I turn to face him.

  “Do you want some breakfast?” he asks. “We could order something or go down to the restaurant or pick something up on our way to the Golden Gate Bridge?”

  With the absence of him, my words sound louder, ringing in my ears, and even more deafening is the fact he didn’t return them.

  I don’t expect him to.

  Didn’t expect him to.

  We’ve only been together for a second.

  I don’t even know where those words came from, much less why I said them.

  Truth pierces me in the lungs, calling me on my silent lie.

  “I’m game for whatever.”

  He smiles, but something is missing, and I swear it’s not just because I’m feeling so vulnerable and self-conscious.

  Or is it?

  28

  Chloe

  “Why don’t we get ready? Then we can decide.”

  I nod.

  Tyler links our fingers, leading me to our room, where the glass shower shines with the reflection of the sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains. He opens the glass door and steps inside, turning the knob and standing shamelessly, gloriously naked at the side of the spray as he waits for the water to warm. His gaze is on the drain, the window, the bed—everything but me.

  “It’s warm,” he says, his eyes flashing to me before he moves to the small bench that is set back far enough not to get wet and that houses all the same products I’ve grown accustomed to seeing at each of our stops.

  I step into the shower, struggling to get out of my head, reasoning that I’m feeling so exposed because my filter has seemingly gone from active and dependable to nonexistent in the span of twelve hours. This is me. This is in my head. Nerves are what have me feeling unsteady. I stand under the spray, letting it hit my face and body, trying to rid the feeling that has me desperate to call Nessie so we can meet up and she can organize this mess in my head.

  Strong hands run over and then through my hair, the scents of the expensive French shampoo perfuming the air. My body melts like butter as he drops another kiss to my shoulder. His fingers rake over my scalp, massaging me. It feels so good an audible sigh leaves me. He kisses me again, his tongue dancing across my skin. “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you on that bench,” he says, capturing my ear with his teeth. “Then, against the glass.” He runs his hand under my breast, taking the weight in his palm as he grazes his fingers along the edge and avoiding my nipple. “And when you can’t remember your own name, I’m going to take you on our bed and make you come again.” I drop my head back against his shoulder, feeling the embers of desire stirring low in my belly, making my breath catch when his fingers slide down my abdomen.

  But he doesn’t touch me where I want him to. Instead, he reaches for a washcloth that he douses with soap and then rubs it together so it’s sudsy before running it across my breasts. The friction of the fabric against my nipples makes me moan, and then his lips seal over mine, silencing me with his tongue. The washcloth falls to the shower floor with a splat, and Tyler’s hand slips down my front, over my slickened folds, and two fingers thrust inside me, making me cry out. My heart pounds as the spray hits my overstimulated nipples, and he fingers me, making me forget I just had an epic orgasm as my body turns greedy with need. From his position at my side, his erection presses into my hip. I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking up the length of him. He rewards me by adding his thumb to my clit, stroking me at the same pace I do him, and just when my walls clutch his fingers, his hands fall to my hips, and he kisses me. “Ride me.” His voice is gravel, sending shivers down my spine.

  He sits on the tiled floor, palming his erection, the shower hitting his legs. I straddle his waist and lower myself as he guides himself to my entrance. I sink down on his cock as his eyes close, and his head falls back with bliss. He knits our fingers to provide me support and balance, giving me all the control as I move over him, discovering every angle and pace that makes his eyes darken and others that make his control so weak, he has to close his eyes again.

  “Chloe,” he calls my name as I speed up, and then his control snaps, and his hips move against mine, thrusting up into me as the need in our bodies builds, reaching highs that teet
er between pain and ecstasy before we explode together.

  I kiss him lazily, my breaths coming out in bursts as my heart works to settle, and then I’m laughing and hugging him and letting the water from the shower warm me as the heat of our movements wane.

  Tyler kisses along my collarbone and up my neck. “When we get back to Seattle, I’m having a shower like this installed in my bedroom.”

  “We’ll never get clean.”

  “Exactly.”

  I kiss his mouth, feeling his smile. And those same three words nearly fall out again, but this time, I erase them with a kiss and then slowly stand.

  We take turns washing each other’s bodies, and then I shampoo his hair, and he conditions mine. And though I’m starting to feel guilty for how much water we’ve wasted, I’m still disappointed when he turns off the shower.

  Our walk to the Golden Gate Bridge is filled with stories of our childhoods. I learn about how he chose Brighton to gain some space from his parents, and how he hates tomatoes but loves ketchup. I repeatedly ask him to say blueberries and basil and bananas because the roll of his tongue when he says each of them is nearly as endearing as when he says my name. We talk about some ugly things like the time he was beaten up in middle school after moving to America and how his Uncle Kip worked to change his view of women, but years of memories with his grandma kept him grounded. And I tell him about when we were nine and Nessie got separated from us while we were at the state fair and was missing for the longest five hours of my life. But throughout our walk, our fingers remain linked. And even when it gets uncomfortable to discuss something, we continue, peppering in a heavy dose of humor and stopping to kiss so many times we add well over an hour to our adventure. But it only makes it better. I can feel the memories burning into my brain with each smile and shared secret.

  The sun warms my face as we follow the trail of hikers up to the bridge. The thick layer of fog that threatened to ruin our view as we began our trek has nearly vanished, leaving a picturesque view of the bay and Alcatraz Island in the background, with the blue sky and orangey-red paint of the iconic bridge. “I’m really glad you were able to take today off,” I say, spinning to take another picture.

  His fingers skim my side as I take a couple more pictures of the bay. “We still have two weeks before football starts,” he says. “What if we just stayed for a few more days? Or we can drive up the coastline and add a few days?”

  “What about things with Avery?”

  He shakes his head as we walk to the middle of the bridge, the cars passing loudly to our left. But they’re barely even a thought as I turn the camera on Tyler and manage to get two photos of him smiling before he grabs my waist and pulls my back against his chest. He drops his face to the crook of my neck and smiles. I snap the picture and another with him kissing me. “I fired him,” he tells me.

  I nearly drop my phone. I twist in his arms, a new wave of regret hitting me as I consider how this might have gone entirely differently had one of us had the sense and patience to talk it out in a more constructive manner. “Will that impact your chances of charging him?”

  His hands are still on my waist as he shrugs. “Charging him would be a mild flavor of justice, but it wouldn’t get the funds returned. He’s spent the money, and we could try suing him, but we’d likely never see a penny of what he’s stolen.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  He raises his eyebrows a few degrees. “Bankrupt him. It would take a few calls with his other clients and a couple more to have him blacklisted so no one’s willing to do business with him. Then, I’d turn to the casinos, get him banned from every single one, and Jericho’s games, too.” He lifts just one shoulder. “It would spread, and he’d be chased out of the city. Plus, the people he’s working with deserve to know. He’s likely fucking them over as well.”

  “Are you sure he did it? No doubts?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then do it.”

  He blinks back his obvious surprise.

  “He stole ten million dollars from you, and like you said, chances are he’s stealing from his other clients. It seems like it would be immoral for you to not tell them.”

  Tyler pulls me closer, his hands pressing against the small of my back. “Forget Avery. Are you excited about your event tonight?”

  My smile is instant and spreads to his lips. “Stupid excited.”

  “Are we going to stay up all night watching it before we get a replay of the shower?”

  I grin. “We can, but it’s actually the most visible before the moon fully rises, so ten until midnight.”

  “And we’ll be outside?”

  I nod. “Astronomers will be inside the observatory, but we won’t all be able to fit, and with a meteor shower like Perseids, the best view is outside. Plus, as much as I love this, it’s far outside of my field of study, so this is just icing on the cake.” I glance at the sky. “Especially if it’s clear again tonight, we’ll have a great view.”

  He brushes his lips against my temple.

  “I’m hoping Cooper and Nessie still come. I hate when he’s mad at me.”

  “He’s not mad at you. Trust me. He just needs some time to breathe and cool down.”

  His words are meant to comfort me, but I know he’s wrong. Cooper was irate, and while I might be able to share some of that blame with the situation, it’s my omission that lit the match. Still, I want to believe Tyler’s assurance.

  “Let’s get a car to take us to Ghirardelli Square,” he says, glancing at his watch. “We’ll grab some lunch and ice cream, and then we’ll need to head back so we can get ready for your big night.”

  Disappointment has me looking to verify the time. I’d wanted to walk through the city and see at least a few more things on my list, but he’s right. We’re going to be borderline late as it is.

  His lips graze my cheek and then my lips. “I’ll bring you back, I swear.”

  “I just thought we had more time, but it’s okay, this morning was…” My cheeks flush as I recall the details of our time in the living room and then again in the shower. “Amazing. If that’s all I was able to take out of this city, I’d be content.”

  He smiles fully now. “I’m still bringing you back the first chance we get.” His attention falls to his phone, and his brow furrows as his eyes cut to the sky and then back to his screen.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He shakes his head, reaching an arm behind his back.

  “Avery?”

  He doesn’t respond, his focus on whatever message he’s sending in reply. Several minutes pass, his attention still downcast as his thumbs dart across his screen.

  “Should we return to the hotel?”

  “No. It’s nothing.”

  “Clearly, it’s something.”

  Tyler sighs, but his shoulders don’t fall. If anything, they grow bigger. “I haven’t checked my phone all day. I knew shit would blow up because of firing Avery, and I just wanted one day to not worry about it or bother with trying to sort through shit. I wanted one day with you. This day. Your day.”

  “We had Vegas,” I remind him.

  He shakes his head. “I still had to work, and even that stupid fucking poker game was part of it.”

  “You just said we have two weeks. We can stretch the trip out. We don’t have to check out tomorrow. Or we can add a couple of days and go see the Oregon coast or stay in Portland? Or just head back and hibernate at your place or my place or both?”

  Slowly, he pulls in a breath, and then just as slowly, he nods. “You’re right. This is just the beginning.”

  My stomach and chest warm at his words, my heart gallops, and I smile. “Exactly.”

  We walk back down to the park to catch a Lyft that takes us through the city to Ghirardelli Square, where a long line of tourists stands.

  “Come on,” he says, taking my hand.

  “We can’t cut in line here. There’s no bouncer, and there are kids.”

 
Tyler flashes a devilish grin that dares me to question if he could, and I have little doubt that he would. “There’s a pub in the back that most tourists don’t know about, and they serve the same ice cream.”

  We walk around the line and red-brick building to a second entrance, where a woman greets us with a piece of dark chocolate.

  “Oh,” I say, tearing open the wrapper. “You should ask them if they have any white chocolate.”

  His eyebrows go up with surprise.

  “I know a lot about you. Two years’ worth of stuff and a few Google searches.” I shrug when his eyes light up with another admission. “There were a lot of rumors about who you were freshman year.”

  He laughs. “I’ll bet.”

  “Most were wrong,” I add, thinking about the multitude of articles that referred to him as a heartless playboy.

  “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes,” he tells me as we join a shorter line to order.

  “But they led you to Brighton and Cooper.”

  “And you,” he adds, placing his hand on my hip. It’s possessive and strong and like everything about Tyler, addictive.

  When we finish our lunch and ice cream, we wait for a car from the hotel to come and pick us up, and though I’m sad not to see more of this city that has been so amazing in the tiny fraction I’ve seen, I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve as we pull up to the hotel, excited for this night and to share it with Tyler.

  “Mr. Banks,” a man in a suit says as we enter the hotel. “Sir, your father would like to speak with you.”

  I glance at Tyler, wondering if his father was who he’d been responding to while we were on the bridge.

  “He’s right this way, sir.” The man holds out a palm toward the front desk.