“Dylan.”
My name on his lips pushes me to the top. The burning sensation shoots through my body and I lose control willingly. “I’m coming.” I strain and arch into him, giving him the angle we both need to get him deeper. He growls and I feel him twitch inside me as I erupt around him at the same time. Warm release fills me and I pull his head back to allow me to watch him. “Look at me.”
His eyes fixate on mine, wide and dilated as he stills and exhales sharply. Blinking heavily, he drops his head. “Jesus Christ,” he says. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his hair is a right hot mess, which makes me smile. No one can pull off the I just got fucked hair like Reese. I am placed down on my feet and have to keep my arms around him to steady myself.
“Wow. You might have to carry me out of here,” I say through a laugh. He grins and studies me as he tucks himself away, watching me pull my dress down.
“I could do that.” He moves quickly to his desk and grabs a few tissues, dropping down in front of me and wiping between my legs. He discards them in the trashcan and returns in front of me, brushing the strand of hair that fell from my bun away from my face.
I’m certain I look thoroughly fucked, but don’t care in the least. This man owns my body and I will let him use it wherever and whenever, and the thought suddenly frightens me. I swallow loudly and back up a bit. “I think your meeting may have started without you.” I make sure my dress is covering everything, glancing behind me quickly. His hand stills on the door handle, getting ready to turn it when he looks over at me.
“I want to see you tonight.” His voice is low, his eyes hooded as if he’s bracing himself for my reaction.
I study him for a second before I respond. “But you just saw me.” I want to see him too. I want to see him every second of every day, but I can’t. I’m not strong enough for that.
He moves closer to me. “I know. Is there a rule that says I can’t see you twice in one day?”
“Shouldn’t there be?” My question hangs in the air between us for a moment before he nods in agreement. And then I see it, the shift in his expression that makes my stomach tense. He looks nervous and uneasy. Is he struggling with this as much as I am? Isn’t this what he wants? I don’t ask, but I hate seeing him like this, so I step in closer and slide my arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his jaw as he holds me against him.
“I just… I don’t want to get too attached.” Because I’m falling in love with you and it will kill me when you’re done with me.
He clamps his lips together and nods before planting a kiss on my forehead. “I know. Come on, pretty girl. I have a meeting to run.” I stand on my toes and plant quick kisses on his lips as he laughs against my mouth. Serious conversation over, playful Reese back.
Swinging his office door open, he places his hand on my lower back and ushers me out into the reception area and down the hallway. My eyes briefly fall on little Miss Uppity, her expression cold as usual, but I don’t linger. I laugh under my breath and Reese looks down at me. “Something funny?” He stops in front of the conference room door and turns to me.
“Your receptionist is kind of a bitch.”
He chuckles. “Ignore her.” Pulling me in for a lasting kiss, the door opens, but I don’t register it until after he has broken our contact. I wobble. This man can make me weak in the knees if I even cared about having knees anymore. The sound of a throat clearing causes us both to look into the room at the table full of men, Ian standing at the door and wearing his biggest smile. “Caught ya. Come on, man, we need to get started.” I feel my face flush as Reese straightens his tie quickly and grabs the back of my head, pulling me into him for a quick kiss in my hair.
“Bye, love,” he whispers.
“Bye, handsome. Go crunch some numbers or audit something or whatever the fuck it is you do.” He shakes against me with laughter and pulls back, winking before he walks into the room. My eyes quickly scan the table for my empty bakery boxes when I stop on a familiar smirk that is plastered on the face of the man who had picked up the tarts for his father last week. His eyes rake over my body, slow and sleazy like, and I suddenly feel dirty as Ian clears his throat, earning my attention.
“Bye, Dylan,” he says and I wave awkwardly, turning on my heels and hearing the sound of the doors close behind me.
What the fuck is that guy doing here? And why the hell did he stare at me like that? I ride the elevators down and march purposely through the lobby as my mind races. I find Joey outside in the van talking on his phone as I hop in the driver’s seat and start it up.