In an out-of-body experience, I watched my heels ascend to the top of his stoop, and then I was on his doorstep and I had nowhere to go but forward. I reached out and rang his doorbell. I could hear it chime inside, echoing across his marble floors. My stomach dipped and suddenly I felt sick and suddenly I wasn’t sure this was such a good idea. I clutched my stomach. My phone kept vibrating with Josephine’s warnings and I felt like I was going to throw up.
I took a step back, prepared to bolt. My throat felt tight and my legs felt weak. I just needed to get off his stoop and then I could sit and breathe and berate myself for being so monumentally stupid. And then his door opened slowly, and Dean was standing there in the dim light of his house, and I was absolutely in over my head.
He didn’t say a word, just stood there shirtless, tan, and surprised to see me. His black drawstring pants were loose, holding on to his hips and defying the law of gravity. I could see a sliver of his Calvin Klein underwear just below a razor-edged Adonis V that cut into his abs so hard it looked almost painful. His hair was wavy and unruly, just like mine…and suddenly I didn’t feel sick and suddenly I was sure this was a good idea.
“Lily?”
He spoke my name like it was a question. I knew the answer.
I shook my head and stepped forward, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing him back into his house. His hands found my hips. He gripped my workout top and scrunched the material in his palms so he could feel my skin underneath. I hadn’t even thought to change before coming over; I was a mess, sweaty from my workout and running around the city all day. My running tights were stained with coffee and I would have showered had I even thought I might actually be there, standing in front of Dean and accepting his challenge.
There were two seconds where I had control. I’d taken him by surprise by showing up at his doorstep, but he recovered quickly, pulling me deeper into his house and making it that much harder to second-guess my decision.
“Well if you ever care to put your little theory to the test, you know where to find me.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dean
I knew this would happen. I knew that by playing with Lily, by testing her and teasing her, eventually she would bite back. Her bite wasn’t painful. It was a naughty dream that bled into waking hours. Her tank top and leggings were stretched across her skin so that I could see every curve that lay hidden beneath.
The second her hands hit my chest, I knew what she wanted. I’d truly been half-joking the day before, but I should have known Lily would accept a half-thrown gauntlet. She was a feisty little twenty-something. She thought she knew the world and she thought she could show up on a man’s doorstep late at night. So fucking naive.
She dragged her nails down my chest and I grabbed her hips, squeezing through the thin material. We could make it up to my room, but that was half a world away, and I needed her right there. In the foyer, on the cold marble.
I kicked the door closed and yanked off her black tank top. Her wide, bright eyes were the size of saucers. Her lips were plump and pink. We hadn’t even kissed yet, but by the morning, those lips would be red and swollen. She’d have to put ChapStick on them for two days straight and every time she did, she’d remember when I’d bent down and stolen that first kiss, gripping her hips and yanking her toward me.
When our mouths connected, she groaned, and I ground her hips against mine. Her tongue slipped past my lips and I tilted my head, bringing her closer. She tasted good, like cinnamon gum. I smiled. She’d planned this. She’d chewed gum on the way over. She’d thought of me all day. She wanted me to slip my hand along the edge of her tights, just like I was doing—down across the edge of her stomach, from hip to hip and back again. Her stomach quivered beneath my touch and her mouth fell open so she could drag her teeth along my shoulder. She wanted me to know she liked it.
Of course you do, Lily. You told me yourself, you’ve never been fucked by someone who knew what he was doing.
I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of her tights and then lower, trailing my finger along the outside of her panties. I had her in my hands, so completely open for me. She sighed against me, keeping her focus on my shoulder.
Shy.
She couldn’t look me in the eye as I slid my finger past the hem of her panties. She bit down harder on my shoulder, and I held up her weight. She was putty and if I let go, she’d fall to a heap on the floor. I backed us up to the wall, right between my framed photos. I slipped my hand out of her pants and tugged them down, taking in the sight of her naked body. She was tiny, with perky breasts and slim lines, and those hipbones that shouldn’t have been visible. She looked so young standing there that I took a step back, thrown for a loop.
I scanned across her tan skin, memorizing the freckle that sat two inches above her left nipple. Now it was my freckle. A secret patch of skin that I hadn’t had the time to notice on the yacht.
“Dean?” She spoke with a shaky voice. “I’m on the pill. If that’s what you’re worried about…”
She thought I didn’t want her. She thought I was stepping away for good.
“How old are you Lily.” It was part question, part statement.
“Twenty-three.”
Ten years difference.