The Rivals

by Allen , Dylan

  “Well, what else could you be doing here? There’s not enough coincidence in the world for this to be one.” I demand and he raises his eyebrows.

  “Didn’t Tyson text you?”

  The shock that hits me couldn’t be more potent if he’d dumped ice cold water on my head. “Tyson? How do you know Tyson?”

  “From college, U of H. We were texting while I was by the pool. He said he was going to send you a message, so you’d be expecting me to come and say hi. You waved.” He adds in frustration when I just stare blankly.

  “You told Tyson? Oh, shit. What did he say? Is on his way here?” I cover my mouth hand to muffle the scream that’s building as the full implication of this disaster starts to sink in.

  “Why would Tyson be on his way here?” he asks one eye squints at me as if he’s not sure I’m completely sane.

  “To kick your ass. He doesn’t play that shit with his friends and me. He would take this as the height of disrespect. He’s very protective. If he knows we…whatever…he’s going to want to kill you.”

  “I didn’t tell him I was here with you. I just told him I saw you. He doesn’t know about our history. And Tyson may be protective, but we’re adults and no one is kicking my ass.” He grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head in a rough motion.

  His expression when he looks at me again is…oh my God. How could I have not seen it?

  It’s him. Of course, it’s him. Even his anger is exactly the same, filling the space between us as it grows.

  He holds his phone out to me. I take it and read the exchange between him and Tyson.

  I flush. “Tyson is such a blabber mouth. He shouldn’t be telling you this stuff,” I grumble as I read it.

  But when I’m done, the smile I offer as I give the phone back is both sheepish and relieved. “You could have told me. How in the world would I have recognized you, Stone? All this time I’ve been looking for a guy who’s 5’5’ max with glasses that won’t stay on his nose and skin that’s pale from being in a lab somewhere all day,” I sputter. I sound stupid and I know it, but I’m flabbergasted by the way he’s changed.

  He grins. “You’ve been looking for me?”

  I scowl “I mean, not actively but I thought maybe I’d run into you somewhere, maybe.” I give him an appreciative once over. “I wouldn’t have ever imagined you’d be so…built.”

  His grin spreads as he flexes one of his impressive biceps, kisses it and winks. “I had a growth spurt. Glad you approve.”

  He’s really gorgeous when he smiles like that. But even that smile can’t make me forget what a disaster this is.

  Whatever he sees in my expression sobers him up. He sighs and walks up to me. “Honestly, it didn’t occur to me that you’d be inviting me to your room if you didn’t know who I was.”

  I throw my hands up in exasperation “Hello? I rode your dick on the shuttle?” I remind him.

  “It’s okay, we—”

  I whirl away from him and head for the door. “This did not happen. You have to leave.”

  His hands close over my shoulders before I take two steps and move to stand in front of me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, but even with them closed, I can’t reconcile this big, fine man with the small boy that’s lived in my memories.

  “I’m sorry Regan, but it did happen. And it was pretty fucking hot.”

  “I’m married.” I blurt and then feel stupid.

  “Well, you better tell your vagina. She doesn’t seem to remember that anymore,” he says and then smiles.

  “Are you smiling? Why? There’s nothing funny happening here.”

  “I didn’t say anything was funny. And I can’t help it that I’m finding quite a lot to smile about. You thought I was a stranger. You wanted to fuck me because you think I’m hot. Not because you thought I was safe. I thought Tyson—”

  “You cannot tell Tyson, and I just… If my husband finds out...”

  “He won’t,” he says as if it’s that easy to dismiss Marcel, but some of the nonchalance in his expression fades.

  “He can’t. I won’t make excuses for myself. But I haven’t been with him or anyone in more than five years. I’m going through a lot right now and yes, I thought you were a handsome stranger who I could take home, and then…”

  “Never see me again?” He finishes for me.

  “Yes. Exactly. And that…it was amazing. If you hadn’t turned out to be…you, I’d ask you to stay.”

  “Then pretend I’m not me and give me those seconds you promised.” His hands slips off my shoulder and starts to move down my back. I yank out of his reach and raise a hand in warning, and he steps toward me.

  “That was before I knew who you were. Stone, this shouldn’t have happened. And I’m sorry, but you have to leave, now. Please,” I urge when he looks like he wants to argue with me.

  He nods, his expression neutral but good natured. “You need time to get your head wrapped around everything.”

  “No, I don’t. I already regret it,” I inform him with all the resolve I can muster.

  “Why?”

  “Because it was wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Stop saying why,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Stop making me say it.” He remains completely unruffled.

  “You don’t have any regrets?” I ask, confounded by his lack of remorse.

  “None. How could I? It’s you.”

  “But, you don’t…hate me still?” I ask.

  His brows draw together in surprise. “I was ten, Regan. I didn’t mean it and by the time I got my head clear enough to apologize, you’d left for college. I wanted to apologize for what I said. I was jealous because I wanted to be your boyfriend. I was too young to understand how ludicrous that was. But I have never, ever hated you. I’m here because I want to have sex with you, in every way it’s possible to have sex, as many times as you’ll let me.”

  This is too much, I am caught in a maelstrom of confusion and horror and to my surprise, lust.

  He touches the tip of that wicked tongue to my mouth and smiles. “And I love the way you taste. I want more. And I know you want to give it to me.”

  I want to deny it, but it is pointless to try. So, I just walk to the bathroom and stay there until I hear him say, “See you tomorrow, Goddess.”

  I crawl into my big empty bed, and I lie there, wishing he was there.

  Chapter 15

  Can I Kiss You?

  Regan

  “What did you do to him, Reggie? He’s been watching you all night.” Matty nudges me.

  I grimace and shake my head, “Nothing that’s ever going to happen again, and he knows it.” I take another sip of my ginger beer and vodka, but I hardly taste it.

  “Are you sure he knows that? He’s sure not looking like he does,” Matty teases in an amused, sing-song voice.

  “It doesn’t matter. I know.” I skewer her with a challenging glare.

  She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Oh, come on. It’s at least a little flattering that he’s looking at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of here.”

  “Not at all,” I say and Matty gives me a knowing side eye, but doesn’t say more.

  She knows I’m lying. How could I not be flattered? I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked in. Once I met his gaze, thinking he’d look away when I did, but he just smiled.

  I haven’t looked again. I don’t want to encourage him to come over and start talking.

  Between spending time with Matty and running into Stone, it’s like my past is trying to make itself relevant again. That is the very last thing I need.

  My present is enough to deal with.

  I’ve been beside myself with mortification. But when a memory of the night before randomly intrudes into my thoughts, it leaves me hot, panting, and wet.

  My body is still on fire from what he did to me with his mouth and his gloriously thick dick. God, whoever said size didn’t matter had
never come across one like Stone’s. I’ve seen dildos less perfect.

  Since he left my room, I’ve been swinging on a pendulum of indecision. I spent half the day thinking about how to make sure we don’t find ourselves alone again. The other half was spent hatching frantic schemes to ensure we did.

  Which is crazy. Last night shouldn’t have happened.

  It was so wrong. But I’m very attracted to him.

  If I’m honest, my body isn’t the only part of me that’s responding to him.

  There was something about the little boy who I found hiding in the back room of the bakery that summer. He was so sad and so brave. And the harrowing experience we shared the last time he came to the bakery re-shaped the trajectory of my life.

  Last night, when he looked me in the eye and said, “See you tomorrow,” I saw it. The determination that filled the glittering depths of his eyes was the very same I saw in his expression right before he stabbed Weston in the back.

  But, that’s the only thing about him that’s the same.

  In every way, he’s a new person.

  “Well at least you won’t be all alone when I leave tomorrow.”

  I turn to her, my expression pleading. “Can’t you stay a few more days?”

  She purses her lips and shakes her head. “I gotta be at work on Tuesday. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to keep you company,” She tips her head to the side where I know he’s sitting.

  “I’ll be fine. I brought a book.”

  She laughs. “You know what? He looks like the guy from A Fault in our Stars, but ten years older because of the facial hair.”

  “He doesn’t look anything like that kid. He looks like… James Norton.”

  “Who?”

  “The hot priest in Grantchester,” I explain, knowing that she’ll get it then.

  “Oh my God, you’re right. I was gonna say no because Grantchester is blonder and not as bootylicious, but yes…I see it and definitely that mouth….”

  “Ugh, stop drooling over him,” I elbow her.

  “Why? You said you’re done with him, right? Why do I have to play nice just because you can’t? And if he’s into older women--"

  “Shut up, okay? I’m not that much older than him.” The words ring true. Eight years might have been a big deal back then, but now, there’s nothing to indicate the difference between his age and mine is anything but a number.

  The way he touched me wasn’t the way a man without experience would. He can’t be older than 28 or 29. But from the way he looks and how sexually relaxed he seems to be, he’s more experienced than I am.

  I didn’t know sex could be like that. I wish I could enjoy just one more night. But I’ve played with fire. So far, I’ve gotten away unscathed. I shouldn’t take any more chances. This can’t be a simple affair we just walked away from when we were done.

  He’s Tyson’s friend and his brother, Hayes Rivers, is a friend and business partner of Marcel and Remi’s. Hayes is getting married soon and Marcel is flying from Paris so we can go together. What will happen when I see him there? Just picturing it makes my stomach queasy.

  “Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Matty says in a low voice.

  My stomach drops, but I straighten my shoulders and take a deep fortifying breath when he slides into the seat on the other side of me. I smell the same verbena, coconut, and clean I did last night. I squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache blooming there.

  “Hello Goddess,” his voice rumbles low and hot in my ear. Just like that, I’m wet. Annoyed at how traitorous my body is, I stiffen.

  “Don’t call me that.” I keep my eyes on the bar.

  “Hellooo,” Matty reaches across me to wave enthusiastically at him.

  His smile brightens. “Hi. Matty, right? Stone.” he reaches over to take her hand.

  “Ah, you have a good memory,” she coos. I ignore the small flare of irrational jealousy when their hands touch. I sip my drink and the cold and spicy effervescence settle my bubbling nerves and cool my overheating head.

  I feel his eyes on me and I dart a dark glance at him without turning my head.

  “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” I say and take another sip of my drink.

  “Yes, but I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you.”

  “That’s not a huge endorsement for your self-control then. You should try harder.”

  “I’d like to try doing obscene things to your mouth and pussy with my hard dick instead,” he whispers. A bolt of white hot, unmitigated pleasure hits me squarely between my thighs and I can’t bite back my groan.

  “And… that’s my cue to leave,” Matty slides off her seat and looks back and forth between us before she smiles. “Reggie, The dick I was talking about yesterday? - this is it. Be sure you wear a condom on your heart, cause this one is gonna fuck your feelings.” she pronounces with a grin before she melts into the crowd forming on the nearby dance floor.

  “You were talking about my dick yesterday?” he drawls in my ear.

  I turn to face him; My chest, thighs, and nipples all tighten at once.

  His eyes are full of his wicked intent. But his strong, sharply defined jaw is relaxed. His lips are spread in a delicious smile that makes me want to lean forward and bite them. I scowl at him and turn to face the bar again. “You drove my friend away.”

  He lifts one of his large, surprisingly elegant hands and signals for the bartender and then flashes a brilliant grin that makes me ache. “Good. Three’s a crowd when it comes to sex.”

  I give him glare. “Stone.”

  “Regan.” He says in a mimic of my warning tone.

  To my surprise, I giggle.

  He grins and presses his advantage. “You promised me seconds.”

  I watch him from the corner of my eye, while he orders a neat glass of scotch. He’s in jeans and a white dress shirt that looks custom made to my well-trained eye. He’s wearing a thin gold cuff on his right wrist.

  Otherwise, he’s completely unadorned. And he doesn’t need anything more. Stone is man candy. The kind that should come with a warning label that reads, "One bite won’t be enough”

  Several women at the bar have given him the once over. One of them is actively trying to catch his attention in the mirror. I give her a venomous smile when our gazes meet, and her eyes widen slightly before she turns to talk to the women on her left.

  That was small of me.

  Ugh, if I had any sense, I would point him in that woman’s direction and go back to my room and call my kids.

  The waitress sets his drink down and refills my shot glass without even asking. I give her a grateful smile and throw the shot back.

  “Rough day?” Stone asks conversationally.

  I huff out a laugh. “Something like that.”

  “I’ve got something for that, Regan. Let me make you feel good.” He’s laying it on thick. There’s no ambiguity in his approach; he’s not being presumptuous or coy.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve been pursued by a man and it feels… good. But…

  “I shouldn’t do this.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t this feel good, like no time has passed at all?”

  I scoff, but my drink turns bitter in the back of my throat. I pivot so my whole body is facing him and meet his eyes. The amusement in them annoys me even further.

  “Listen, you’re holding on to nostalgia. You had a crush on me then, right? I’m not that girl anymore,” I warn him.

  “Well, that’s good. I don’t date girls. I date women. Because I’m a man. Not that I need to remind you, since I spent a good bit of effort making your whole body aware of that fact yesterday.”

  I throw the rest of my drink back and let out a tremulous sigh. “Stone, no one on this planet would ever mistake you for anything other than a man. And I’m not worried about your age.”

  “Then let’s leave the past in the past. Let’s talk about right now.” A hand comes to rest on my thigh.

  �
�Did you like what we did last night?” he whispers in my ear.

  I should push his hand away, but it feels so good.

  “Do you want me to do it again?”

  I shiver and close my eyes.

  His fingers slip under the lace of my panties. I gasp, casting an anxious glance around the bar.

  “No one is watching, Goddess,” his voice is a silk lure and my thighs part.

  I finally look at him and the hunger in his gaze quickens my pulse.

  “All you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will,” he says.

  I couldn’t tell him to stop if someone was holding a gun to my head.

  I never want him to stop.

  His fingers skim up, and up, and up. I can’t tell where the heat is coming from - him or me, but from the very center of my body to the tips of my extremities, I’m ablaze.

  “Let’s go back to your room and spend the entire night together. I have years and years of fantasies to live out with you. I want to suck your toes, and fuck your ass, and watch your lips stretch around my dick.” he whispers.

  Oh my God, I have never wanted any of those things, but now I feel like I need them all.

  “Will you let me?” he coos, his fingers trail up and he rubs my clit through my panties. My head lolls forward and he cups my neck and presses his lips to my cheek, kissing his way to my ear while he continues his sensual strokes.

  “Fuck the rules,” I breathe.

  He pulls his hand away and lifts it to his nose and inhales. “Your pussy is so delicious, Regan.”

  My name on his lips is even more erotic than the words that preceded it.

  “I knew you couldn’t say no, it was too good between us.”

  He’s not wrong, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve made this too easy for him. He walked over assured of his conquest. This man is all alpha and I know that he’ll be at his best if he’s got to work for it. Last night was amazing, but tonight I want him in a lather. I want him to leave me sore and bruised so I can hold on to these feelings for as long as possible.