-10-
-Kira Carter-Wells-
When Dylan comes hurtling out of the bathroom, I’m expecting to see something chasing him.A spider, the invisible man, his stalker… I don’t know, just something, but there’s nothing there.His face is flushed.He has a towel clasped around his hips and his upper body sparkles, covered by numerous water droplets.He comes stalking right up to me, and shakes wet hair out of his eyes.
“Dylan?”I put the free magazine I was browsing aside on the sofa cushion.
The sexy, infuriating bugger doesn’t say a word.He just looks down at me with those soulful eyes, and I honestly don’t know what he’s thinking, or why he’s so spooked, or even if he’s spooked.
“Is there a problem?”
He tilts his head.It’s almost a nod.
“Tell me how I can help.”
He still doesn’t open his mouth.He does move his arm, or rather his fingers.The towel falls away from his hips, and I’m right before him, at eye level with his gloriously hard dick.
Oh!Oh, okay… Now I see where this is going.“You know I’m your bodyguard, right?Not some starry eyed fan.”
He doesn’t need to know that I’m both those things.Nor, that seeing him bared before me like this has my lady parts instantly plumping.I should shove my middle finger in his face and tell him what to do with his stupidly hard cock.Instead, I stare, because he’s so fucking perfect it hurts.The man has no right to be this damn beautiful.
“You’re killing me, Dylan.”
“I’m killing you.It’s your fault I’m in this state.Damn thing’s had a mind of its own ever since you bust my door down.What the fuck did you do to me?”
Nothing.Not a God damn thing.
This situation is too dangerous with my eyes and mouth on a level with his cock, so I rise to my feet.That puts us in even closer proximity, as Dylan doesn’t back up as I expect him to.There’s barely a whisper of space between us.We’re close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, and for his breath to stir the strands of my hair.We’re close enough that his cock’s damn close to poking me in the hip.
I plant my hand against the centre of his chest, meaning to shove him back a little, but the pressure doesn’t make him budge more than a millimetre.Through his skin, his heart beats a hammering tattoo against my palm.“Lower,” he encourages, voice all rough and husky.
Sleeping with him is a bad idea.I knew it the first time, and I know it now, but still, I slide my hand down his chest an inch.
“Lower.”
We repeat this ludicrous dance another two times, until Dylan clasps my wrist and with his final groan of “Lower” drags my hand down to where he wants to feel it—wrapped tight around his rampant cock.
I should squeeze him too hard for his bloody impertinence.I should slap him and leave a livid mark upon his flesh, but that would reduce me to his level of denial.The truth of the matter is, I want Dylan Drake, and unlike him, I’m prepared to admit that fact.
I know it’s blindly stupid to get involved with a man who refuses to really acknowledge his attraction to me, who is only naked before me now because he’s letting his dick do the driving.Once his libido’s been satisfied and his brain’s in control again, then he’ll be right back to denying there could possibly ever be anything real between us because he’s gay, and isn’t attracted to women.
Well, wise up, sweetheart, because I’m definitely, one hundred percent a woman, and if you’re going to use me like this, I’m damned well going to get something out of you in return.
“Is a handjob really what you want from me?”
That momentarily foxes him.Just for the blink of an eye.
“What did you have in mind?”
“What did you?You’re the one who came out here seeking… What is it you’re seeking, Dylan?I mean, it wouldn’t be me you were looking for.You wouldn’t want to put your cock in my mouth.You’re a gay man.We both know you don’t do that sort of thing.”
He twitches.I’m hitting a whole host of raw nerves.He doesn’t want to think about this shit.Wrapping his mind around his desire for me involves the sort of mental gymnastics that lead to a migraine.No, it’s much easier not to think, merely to act and hope that somehow things magically resolve themselves.
If he only acts, he doesn’t have to consider whether he’s actually gay, like he’s been loudly proclaiming all his life.
He doesn’t have to consider other possibilities, or move away from a black and white view of the world.In many ways Dylan Drake is as bigoted and narrow minded as the straights that get up in arms and decry those who aren’t as devil spawn.
“But if I did want you to suck me, would you do that?”
