DirtyBeautiful (12 page)

Dylan made a sound of pleasure and he broke the kiss to suck
on her lower then upper lip. Their breaths intermingled and his hot gaze sent a
sluice of need through her body. He licked her neck and suckled the soft flesh
there. A sizzle of hunger pulsed through her. Erica tipped her head back on a
sigh. Moisture gathered and made her clitoris throb. His hands settled on her
hips and he twisted her around until the back of her calves hit the large
ottoman-style coffee table. With a hand on her lower back, he eased her down
until she lay on the cool, hard leather.

Dylan pushed back, hand planted by her head. Erica blinked up
at him. His features were tight with barely contained hunger. He swept one hot
look over her body and his nostrils flared. “I’ve dreamed of this for so damn
long I’m half afraid I’ll wake up any second.”

Erica fingered his cheek and his lashes dropped as a subtle
shudder rocked his frame. “This isn’t a dream.”

“Thank God for that,” he murmured before searing her with a
kiss.

He tasted of coffee and passion. He titillated her with his
mouth, retreating and advancing in tease and denial. With a foot planted on the
ground, she rocked beneath him, the sweet friction of his hardness against her
soft core made her gasp. Dylan groaned and fisted her skirt to raise it above
her waist. Her pussy zinged with delight and she spread her legs farther in
silent demand.

His hot palm settled on her inner thigh and slid closer to
the edge of her panties.

“Yes, yes,” she groaned.

He bent his head and his hair tickled her forehead.
Irritation and desire moved her in separate directions as his finger wrote
errant circles on her thigh, just beyond the place she needed him the most.
Back arched, she gripped his hair and pulled his head back. His hiss cut
through the air, but his eyes flared wide with wicked desire.

“Touch me,” she demanded.

His lips parted in a predatory grin as he complied. Elastic
stretched and cool air touched her hot, moist sex. He brushed her clit and
ecstasy hummed along the little bundle of nerves. She quivered. The scent of
her desire swamped her senses. White-hot need surged and a whimper left her.
This is what she wanted. His deft hand slipped over her tender core and
thrummed her clitoris. Nerves fired to life and skittered over her skin. She
wanted more. Needed more.

He slid his fingers over her vulva, circling the canal
before gliding his wet fingers over the hood of her sex. He pinched the nub and
she gasped at the hot blaze of pleasure, her hips undulating. With his free
hand, Dylan grasped the shoulder strap of her day dress and kissed the exposed
portion of her breast. His tongue slid along the line of her bra. Shifting his
body, he forced her legs to part before he thrust two fingers into her. Erica
gasped, struck silent by the pure bolt of pleasure. Expert fingers found her
G-spot with unerring accuracy. Eyes wide, she reveled in the blatant need written
in harsh lines over his features. He pistoned into her, slowly at first, each
slide touching the hidden ball of nerves. Every upward thrust sent
mini-explosions in her womb and made her muscles quiver. Levered on her elbows,
she dipped her head back and braced her body for each precious, glorious
thrust. Heat tingled over her. She was close. A deep growl rumbled over the
air.

“Please, please,” she begged.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

That wasn’t Dylan. Erica’s eyes snapped open as Dylan
cursed, pulled from her and dropped her dress over her thighs in one smooth
move. Instantly on his feet, he twisted to face their intruder, while Erica
remained in stupefied shock propped on the ottoman. A man stood beyond the hall
entrance, his blue eyes wide. Behind him a woman hovered, her face turned away.
A small mercy when one considered how close they came to walking in on both
Erica and Dylan naked. Erica sat up and brushed an unsteady hand over her hair,
hoping despite the obvious that she didn’t look too disheveled.

The intruder threw her a cursory glance at best before his
attention settled on Dylan. “What are you doing here, man? I didn’t think you’d
be back.”

Dylan glowered. “What are
you
doing here?”

The man grinned sheepishly. “I met…Sandra—”

“Sally.”

“Right, Sally, at Club 740 and thought we’d…crash here.”

Erica knew “crashing” wasn’t what they intended to do.

“Well, there isn’t going to be any ‘crashing’ here. You’re
supposed to be checking up on this place, not using it as your little love
nest, Bryce,” Dylan snapped.

Dark brows clashed together. “Does it really matter what I
do here? It’s not like you’re around to care.”

Sally fingered the door, her eyes wide with discomfort. “Um,
maybe I should leave?”

She may as well not have said anything at all for all the
attention she was given. Erica’s heart went out to her. Erica stepped forward
and forced Bryce’s attention to her as she thrust a hand out, the motion
calling a cease-fire.

“Hello, I’m Erica. It’s so wonderful to meet a friend of
Dylan’s.”

A dark brow cocked up and his gaze flicked over her
shoulder. “Oh right. Dylan.” His smooth hand wrapped around hers and he brought
it to his lips. Hot breath skittered over her skin before he placed an airy
kiss on her knuckle. “A pleasure.”

He didn’t release her immediately. Instead he traced an
index finger along her palm to draw sensual circles there. Instantly she
recognized a regular Casanova. His suave aura permeated the immediate area and
promised pleasure in all its forms. Erica pulled her hand away and dropped her
eyes from his knowing gaze.

Dylan’s hand settled on her arm, his thumb stroked over her
heated flesh in silent comfort. “Play your games with people who know how to
handle you, Bryce. Leave her alone.”

Bryce straightened, one side of his mouth cocked up in a
grin. He held his arms up in mock surrender before his gaze sought hers once
more. “How long are you staying, sweetheart?”

Erica bristled but strived for calm. The basic rule for
starting relationships was the friendship foundation and she didn’t want to
compromise that with Dylan. “Just for the weekend.”

Bryce’s mouth fell in disappointment. “That’s a shame. Tell
you what, why don’t you come tonight to Joe’s, Dylan’s favorite restaurant, and
meet a few of his friends?”

“I would love to.”

“No,” Dylan inserted.

Erica chanced a look over her shoulder to find Dylan glaring
at his friend. Perhaps he just expected this to be a weekend fling? The thought
stung, but she couldn’t blame him. She did after all give him free rein. Now
she cursed her stupidity. If she did make love to him, her heart would be bound
to him. A failing in her nature. She could never separate sex and emotion.

“Why not?” Erica turned toward him.

Dylan blinked down at her as though surprised she could
speak. “What?”

“Why can’t I meet your friends?”

A mutinous line set in his jaw. “Because.”

Bryce chuckled. “I tell you what, I’ll set it up for six
thirty and if you show, great. If not, it was lovely meeting you, Erica.”

Erica didn’t even bother to acknowledge him, her attention
riveted on Dylan. He stood stoically silent. As though his “because” were
answer enough. As soon as the front door clicked shut, she spoke. “Why don’t
you want me to meet your friends?”

Dylan’s stormy gaze stabbed right through her, a fierce set
to his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

When he shifted to move away, she snatched at his wrist.
“Why not?”

He slanted a furious look toward her, his brows clashed
together. “Because I don’t want them around you.”

Erica sucked ice-cold air into her lungs. It stung. It
really did. “I understand I said that we’d see where this attraction takes us,
but I didn’t expect to feel like some dirty little secret.”

Dylan turned to face her, his warm hands cupped her cheeks.
“It’s not that, Erica. Not at all.”

Erica gently held his wrists. “If not, then why?”

Dylan heaved a sigh, his eyelashes fanned downward as an
unsteady silence filled the room. “Because you’re too good for them. For me.”

A piece of her heart broke off at the sincerity in his tone.
“Dylan, you are good enough.”

He cast his attention to the left. “No. I’m not.”

Without a word, he dropped his hands and returned to the
balcony, the subject closed and more questions raised.

Chapter Seven

Dylan stood just inside Joe’s, his sweaty palm clasped in
Erica’s. He didn’t know what foolishness brought him here, but he would’ve done
anything to reset the mood, even if it meant meeting up with people he’d rather
not see again. He scanned the room for a familiar face. Tonight the restaurant
bustled with activity, the sound of glass clinking and the buzz of conversation
filled the restaurant.

A maitre d’ approached, his black suit as immaculate as his
slicked hair. “May I help you?”

“Reservations for Bryce Roland?”

The man checked the bookings, then indicated for them to
follow. They weaved between white tables and cream chairs to the back of the
room. There sat Bryce, Max, Vane and…Ruby. Shit. Ruby laughed at something Vane
said, her manicured nails pressed over his sleeve. As the maitre d’ paused
before the table, the group looked up as one. Ruby’s brown eyes lit up with joy
then dulled with suspicion as her attention moved beyond Dylan. She tipped
back, displeasure displayed by the way her pouty lips turned downward. “Dylan,
who is she?”

“My date. Erica.”

Ruby flicked platinum-blonde hair from her face, her eyes
narrowed to slits. “Oh really, I—”

“Now, now,” Vane cut in. “Be nice, Ruby.”

A speaking glance passed between the two and she settled
back in her seat and sulked like a misbehaving child. Dylan tightened his hand
over Erica’s before he pulled a chair out for her. This wasn’t going to be
pretty.

Dylan settled into a seat beside Bryce, more comfortable
with the distance he put between his whoremonger friend and Erica. Vane sat
beside Erica, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“Long time no see,” Vane said, his elbows propped on the
table, blue eyes alight with intent.

Dylan picked up the menu, despite having a distinct lack of
appetite. “I’ve been busy.”

Vane leaned forward. “Is that—”

A waiter sauntered up and stopped by the table, his presence
alone cutting off whatever Vane would’ve said. “Ready to order?”

“Yes,” Dylan said. After a quick perusal, he placed his
order.

A tense silence fell over the table as the waiter left and
Ruby picked up a glass of water.

Bryce patted Dylan on his back. “Since we missed your
birthday, bud, Max and I got you something.”

Bryce reached beside him and placed a bottle of wine on the
table. Dylan recognized the Screaming Eagle logo. This wasn’t a cheap purchase.

“From Napa Valley,” Bryce said. “Remember, we ordered this
very vintage. Got smashed. Not our finest moment.”

Dylan chuckled, his fingers wrapped around the neck. What
had started off as a miserable day had ended with drunken revelry and a lot of
“I love you, mans”. It was the night Dylan first became at peace with his
choice and settled comfortably in his friendships.

Dylan pinned Max with a mock serious stare. “What stays in
Vegas sometimes doesn’t, hey man?”

Max laughed, his green eyes glinted with mirth. “Hey, that
chick was crazy hot, you can’t blame me for hitting that.”

Bryce swiped a hand over Max’s black locks, knowing how much
he hated it. “She was just crazy.”

Max knocked Bryce’s hand aside. “Not my fault she felt the
pull to follow me.”

Dylan shook his head. The groupie had traced Max back to LA
and pursued him with stalker intent. Life was hell for all roommates involved,
Dylan included. A restraining order and hissy fit later, life settled back to
normal.

“Thanks for the wine.”

Bryce shrugged and leaned back in is seat. “No problem. You
and your gal can enjoy yourselves later with it.”

He did enjoy the robust flavor of the Merlot and doubted
Erica would’ve had a chance to taste a wine like this.

“You never told me how you met this lovely lady,” Vane said,
his assessing stare on Erica.

Erica smiled prettily. “I’m his neighbor.”

A brow cocked upward. “Really? You have a delightful accent.
Tell me, where are you from.”

“Georgia.”

“None of your damn business,” Dylan said as Erica spoke.

A silent groan moved through him when Erica threw him a
wide-eyed stare. No good would come of Vane knowing where he lived, he knew
that much. He heaved a breath. It didn’t matter now.

Vane continued, a sly grin on his face. “How are you finding
LA?”

Erica beamed, unaware she’d been maneuvered. “It’s wonderful
so far. Dylan promised me a walk down the beach later.”

“Really. Do you know how long you’re staying?”

“Just the weekend.”

He tsked in a sound of disappointment. “Well that’s a shame.
My company is having a get-together next week. A kind of sexy masquerade,
perhaps you’d like to come?”

Dylan slammed his fist down on the table, upsetting forks
and knives. Anger burned in his chest as he glared at Vane’s deceptively
innocent face. “That’s enough.”

“It’s just a party,” Vane said in mock offense.

Like hell it was. Dylan knew the kind of “party” they had
once a month. An orgy streamed live for online members to watch. Carefully
selected actors were chosen to attend for a smorgasbord of sex. Fuck, even he
had enjoyed it. If he was in a particularly rough mood, he could find a woman
or even two who would oblige him. No, he wasn’t going to let Vane lure Erica
into that world, or try to destroy his pocket of happiness.

“We’re not interested.”

Erica fingered a napkin, attention fixed on her cutlery.
Damn it, he’d upset her. Striving for calm, he slipped his hand beneath the
table and touched her thigh. The muscles quivered, but she didn’t pull away.