The smell of tomatoes and garlic hit me the moment I opened my front door.Pizza?No, it was lasagna.I followed the scent into the kitchen and saw Dylan there, apron tied around his waist and his sleeves rolled up.
Wow.
He looked good.Unreasonablygood.His forearms flexed as he slid a dish from the oven.
“Hey you,” I said, my voice soft.“You are cooking dinner?”
He turned towards me with his ridiculous boyish grin.“You invited me for dinner, but how can I let you cook food after bossing around employees all day and working so fucking hard?So I thought I’d handle it.”
He set the lasagna on the counter, where a bowl of salad waited.The smell of the sauce made me hungry.
My throat tightened as I watched him with an odd mix of awe.
“Dylan,” I called him and pursed my lips.“Remove the apron and come here.”
His green eyes pulsed with excitement as he followed my instructions.
Once he was in front of me, in nothing but a dress shirt and pants, I asked him to kneel.I would ask him about his work later.
“Remove my heels,” I whispered, and he unbuckled the straps from my heels with careful fingers, the skin at my ankle feeling sensitive when his knuckles brushed.Little electric shocks traveled up my calves.
“Thank you,” I said, and when he straightened up to his full height, it was harder for me to reach him without my heels.
“Lean down.”
He did without any hesitation, his face hovering inches from mine.
If I asked him for a million dollars, he would hand it to me.In cash.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
He didn’t make me wait.His mouth brushed mine softly at first, and then it deepened.It was a different kind of kiss from the hot, messy kisses we had shared before.It was slow and sweet.
When he pulled back, his eyes were molten.“Any more commands, darling?”he asked, his voice smoky and deep.
“Yes,” I whispered, my pulse throbbing.“Get on the couch.”
His grin was wicked, but he obeyed.Dropping onto the sofa like a king taking a throne, he spread his arms, watching me as if I was about to demand something extraordinary of him.
I walked towards him, very aware of his raking gaze on my body.My scarf trailed from my shoulders as I climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips.The instant press of him against me, the heat of his hard length, made me throb.
“Hands,” I said.
He offered them up without a blink, trusting me with a cocky smirk on his lips.I wrapped the scarf around his wrists, knotting it behind his back.His muscles flexed against the restraint, and his eyes darkened in a way that made my skin tingle.
He stayed there, restrained and looking beautiful.I let myself enjoy the way his chest rose and fell, his shirt stretching over his shoulders and chest with each breath.The way his gaze tracked every small movement of my fingers, the soft heat pooling between us.
“Be good,” I whispered, brushing my lips against his jaw as I reached for the button of his jeans.
His breath hitched.“Yes, ma’am.”
39
YOU’RE FILTHY, DARLING
DYLAN
My heart pounded in my ears as I watched her ease the zipper down.
