Distraction (Club Destiny #8)

It would do well for her to remember that Dylan had made it painfully clear that he had absolutely no interest in her. None. Just when she had thought they were developing a friendship, he’d gone and brought sex into the mix.

Okay, so maybe it hadn’t all been his fault. Sex had been on her mind a time or two, but it wasn’t like she’d had any intention of jumping him when he least expected it. Before that night, Sarah had already known how Dylan felt about the idea. At one of the CISS Friday night gatherings, during a drunken rant, one he’d directed at Alex while Sarah had been talking to Ashleigh nearby, Dylan had stated his true feelings on the matter.

If I have anything to offer at all, Alex, it would be one night. And Sarah… She doesn’t quite fit the bill.

Why her name had come up in the conversation at all, she wasn’t sure. And at the time, she hadn’t cared.

At first, she’d thought it had been an offhanded compliment, but still… It had hurt. In her own warped little way, Sarah had come up with two ways to take that—she wasn’t the one-night-stand type, or she wasn’t the woman for him. Either way, she had been feeling somewhere between too much and too little for the man. But then he had come across crass, which had both pissed her off and turned her on.

If she wants me to take her out to my truck, bury my cock deep in her sweet little pussy while she rides my dick and screams my name, I’d be her man. Or maybe I’ll call up Chris and we’ll sandwich her between us, fuck her until she’s so far gone she doesn’t know her name. Otherwise, I’m not interested.

Alex’s response had been: You’re a dick, you know that?

Looking back on it now, Sarah knew it was the booze talking for Dylan. He’d been so far gone at the time, no one had even realized it. However, by then the image had been planted, immediately taking root, and for hours, Sarah had thought about little else. Hell, she’d thought about that one comment for the few months they’d started to establish a friendship. Not the one-night-stand part. That didn’t do it for her. The riding him part wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what she’d focused on. It was the being sandwiched between him and … another man … that got her all hot and bothered.

Not that it mattered.

Either he’d forgotten what he’d said, been too drunk to remember, or he simply hadn’t cared, because when Dylan had shown up on her doorstep that dreary November night, it’d been evident what he wanted from her.

And she’d given it to him. Willingly.

Still, she didn’t have any regrets, and she decided long ago to put that incident in the past, where it belonged. But that didn’t mean she had stopped thinking about him. Not by choice, though. Actually, she’d spent more than her fair share of time trying to forget about Dylan. Only her lonely, twisted mind couldn’t completely expel him from her memories, and she’d spent the past three years thinking about him, about that night, about how she wished she’d had more time with him.

However, she knew he was broken. An empty shell of a man who spent his time drowning himself in sadness and alcohol as a way to forget that he’d lost the love of his life. As much as she’d wanted to help Dylan with his problems, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Not personally anyhow. Fixing herself had become her highest priority. It had required a tremendous amount of effort, but Sarah was happy with who she’d become.

Nothing had changed. She still didn’t want the responsibility of fixing anyone else.

Realizing she was still sitting there, in the middle of a sex club with the man who’d haunted her dreams for years, Sarah turned and glanced around. She had no idea how this night was going to go from here, but she couldn’t say she was disappointed in the turnout. No, she wasn’t thrilled with the way in which it had come about, but here she was, and she knew she needed to make the most of it.

Although, there was a tiny part of her that felt bad for Bill. It wasn’t that she liked him, but her compassionate side didn’t allow her to be mean to others. Even though, after bringing her here tonight and all but showing her what he really expected, Bill probably deserved it.

That reminded her … Bill was still there. Ew. The thought of doing any of the things these people were doing and having Bill watch made her skin crawl.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Dylan asked, pulling her attention back to him.

“Yeah,” she said, resigning herself to giving up before she got in over her head more than she already was. “I think I need to go.”

For a brief moment, what looked like disappointment flashed across his ruggedly handsome features, but then Dylan masked his emotions, likely shoving them down deep as he always had before.

“I think I’ll catch a cab.”

“I’ve got my truck,” he said quickly.

“You don’t have to do that, Dylan.” Sarah knew he’d come here with something in mind. She didn’t want him to leave because of her.

“If you leave, I’m leaving anyway.”

“I’m staying at a hotel tonight,” she told him.

“Is that an invitation?” he asked, heat glimmering in his eyes, his lips quirking up into a sexy smirk.

Sarah swallowed hard. A burn ignited in her belly, and she desperately wanted to find a way to quell the ache.

“It won’t be a threesome,” she blurted.

His eyebrow quirked. “I don’t require it,” he stated, his tone soft, reassuring. “But I enjoy it. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have you all to myself.”

Oh, God. There was no way she could resist this man.

“Is it an offer?” he repeated.

Sarah considered that for a moment. She swallowed hard and said, “Maybe.”

God, what was she doing?

“Good.” His eyes leveled on her face. “Then let’s go back there. Worst case, I’ll get my own room.”

Sarah knew she should simply call it a night, not entertain the notion of being with Dylan again, but the thought of walking away from him didn’t sit well with her.

“Okay,” she finally told him, getting to her feet.

“Did you bring a coat?” he asked when they stepped into the reception area.

“No.” She hadn’t had one that would’ve looked right with the dress, so she’d gone without.

“Jesus Christ,” Dylan muttered. “You’re gonna freeze to death.”

Dylan signaled the attendant, and when they handed over what appeared to be his coat, he wrapped the leather jacket around her. It smelled like him, sexy, musky.

When he put his arm around her waist, Sarah sucked in a breath. His touch still did the same crazy things to her, but she knew tonight couldn’t happen. Not like this.

But as they walked out into the chilly night air, she wondered whether or not she was strong enough to resist it.



WHEN THE VALET BROUGHT HIS truck around, Dylan smiled down at Sarah. She was eyeing the ’65 Chevy the same way he’d seen her do before. In fact, his truck had been what had drawn them together back in high school.

One day after school, he’d been talking to Chris, explaining how he’d been working on the exhaust, when Sarah wandered over. He remembered the look of awe on her face, the way she had admired the truck. He’d never met a girl who was so impressed by it until her.

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