DirtyBeautiful (17 page)

“Dylan, please!”

Dylan growled and plunged his fingers into her. Once, twice
and sent her over. She bowed, her scream echoed in the room as she came apart
in a blaze of pure light. Her eyelids fluttered open and Dylan removed his
shirt and jeans. He pulled a condom out and rolled it on. Hand planted by her
shoulder, he pushed his erection into her. Erica gasped at the fullness and
held him to her.

Dylan gripped one of her legs and brought it over his
shoulder and slipped deeper. His body pressed against her exposed clit and
bliss thrummed from that point down to her canal. The hardness of his shaft
slid sensually inside, every ridge defined by the tightness of her body. Erica
moaned as molten pleasure doubled then redoubled. She stiffened as another
climax ripped through her. Rays of light exploded within and tears of joy
trickled past closed eyelids. Dylan whispered sweet nothings, telling her how
beautiful he found her and how good she felt.

His cock raked over her G-spot and kept her near the
precipice of another release. His pace increased. Sharp ecstasy sent her
spiraling out of control and she screamed, her head thrown back as an almost
painful orgasm crashed over her. Dylan’s lips curled back, a veracious look in
his eyes. His fingers tensed over her side, the sound of flesh hitting flesh
filling the night air. Erica gasped as another orgasm began to rise. Teeth
flashed as Dylan grunted, then shuddered above her, her name a benediction as
he came.

He pulled out and flopped down beside her. The mattress
shook, accepting the shift in movement. Erica lay still and basked in the
aftermath, her body still quivering with mini-bursts of joy. Dylan hooked his
hand under his head, panting.

“That was…it just gets better and better.”

“Yes,” Erica sighed happily. “I can’t move.”

Dylan chuckled and rolled onto his side. He wrapped her in
his arms and dragged her onto the bed. He released her only to remove the
protection and then he lay beside her, his muscular arm hooked around her
waist. His dick pressed against her buttocks and she rocked against him.

“Do that again and I’ll show you what naughty girls get.”

Erica grinned and rocked again. His hands tightened over
her. “I’m too tired anyway,” she said on a yawn.

Dylan listened to her breathing settle into a steady rhythm
as sleep took her. Assured she was asleep, he levered up on one arm to peer
down at her. A hand was tucked under her cheek, the other between her thighs.
She appeared so innocent. He kissed her shoulder and contemplated what would
happen with them. Tonight had been a disaster. He didn’t expect to run into a
person familiar with his work. Anger curdled in his gut. The man had called him
perverted. Hypocrite. The people who flung that stuff around were the worst
offenders. Still…

He fingered a lock of red hair and pondered the dangerous
lies he’d uttered. Sure, he’d done a photo shoot. It was what had gotten him
noticed. But his notoriety didn’t come from that one-off photo shoot, but from
his work in the industry. He didn’t doubt Greg would pop up sooner or later to
tell her what he couldn’t. But he’d make sure Erica was with him too much to
care what Greg would say. He pulled her closer into his body and she mumbled
something about dogs and underwear. He smiled against her shoulder. No, he
would protect what he found in Erica fiercely. He wasn’t about to let his past
destroy yet another relationship.

Chapter Nine

Dylan stared blankly at the plank of wood, unsure what he
was going to do with it. He’d drifted again. It’d been two weeks of complete
joy and Dylan couldn’t stop thinking about Erica. It was Friday now and he
couldn’t wait until she came home.

“You were going to cut off half an inch,” Bill inserted from
his rocking chair on the back of Dylan’s porch.

“Oh right.”

Measuring the wood, he penciled a line at an angle. The saw
fired up and he cut the slim piece off. He carried the block to the gazebo and
nailed it against the struts to create a little loveseat. Leaning on his heels,
he ran a hand over the smooth surface, imagining Erica’s naked ass on there. He
wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and ambled back to the
house. Bill leaned down and grasped a beer bottle and tossed it at him.

Dylan caught it smoothly. One foot on the step, he opened it
and took a gulp. He twisted around to peer at his handiwork. It was finished.
Treated cherry hardwood formed the hexagonal structure complete with a tiled
roof, protecting it from the rain.

“Looks a bit bare,” Bill commented.

Dylan narrowed his eyes on it. “Maybe I’ll paint it.”

“Nah. You need climbing plants.”

“I’ll leave that up to Erica. She knows plants better than I
do.”

Bill threw him a shrewd look. “How is monogamy treating
you?”

“Great. It’s going great.”

Bill snorted. “Yeah I can tell. You guys have been inside
each other’s pockets.”

Dylan couldn’t stop the smile. Nothing could take this
happiness away from him.

“So…what is it you’re not telling me?”

Guess he was wrong. He tipped back his beer. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I’ve been watching you and something has got you
bothered.”

Dylan hid his apprehension behind a casual repose. He leaned
against the banister and cocked one shoulder. “Just have things on my mind.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with certain videos?”

Dylan choked on his beer and coughed. “What?”

Bill rocked back on his chair. “I’m a guy, not a nun.”

“Jesus, Bill. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why should I?”

“Does anyone else know?”

He looked at him as if he’d sprouted two heads. “How should
I know? We don’t sit down over a beer and talk about all the pornography we’ve
seen. Besides, if anyone has seen your stuff, I doubt they’d say anything.”

“Why are you saying something now? I’m sure you wouldn’t
want me around Erica.”

“You seem like a nice enough fellow. I figured your secrets
were yours to keep.”

Dylan stared at the older man, surprised by the easy
acceptance.

“So, does Erica know?” Bill asked.

Dylan snorted. “No. And I plan to keep it that way.”

Bill made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Secrets have a
way of revealing themselves eventually. Trust me, I know these things.”

Dylan brushed aside the words. “I’ve got this handled. She’s
not going to find out.”

Bill eyed him with the reproof of a disappointed parent.
“You’re making a mistake.”

Dylan glowered. “Look, do we have to talk about this?”

“Nope,” Bill said as he pushed himself out of the seat. He
walked up to Dylan and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m going down to Barney’s
Bar. You coming to poker night?”

Dylan looked at the orange hues across the sky. “Nah, I
think I’ll stay here and wait for Erica.”

Bill shrugged and marched down the steps only to stop and
turn, a finger in the air. “You know, now that I think of it. On the first
Friday of every month, the girls play pool at the bar. She won’t be coming home
’til late. Hope you have an interesting book to read.”

Dylan straightened. “Now that you mention it, I think I’ll
come along.”

Bill smirked. “Thought you might.”

Fifteen minutes later, he sauntered into the bar and was hit
with a malt aroma. His attention skimmed over the group of men hovered around a
table at the end of the bar and to the pool tables beyond. Erica stood next to
one, a glass of wine in her hand, while Tammy lined up a ball. Happiness
expanded inside his chest at the sight of her. Everything about the world
became right and he started toward her. Men shouted in a chorus of
disappointment while another whooped with glee. Someone had won a hand.

Erica looked up and their gazes clashed. A smile spread over
her face. She put down her drink and hurried toward him. He wrapped her in his
arms and kissed her. It was far more discreet than he wanted, but he promised
himself he’d fix that later tonight.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He raised a brow. “I’m here to play poker.”

She frowned, her eyes slightly glazed. “But you’ve never
come down before.”

“Maybe it’s time I did. Besides, I heard it was a girls’
night out and well, I couldn’t miss a chance to ogle some drunken revelry,” he
said with a pat on her ass.

Erica grabbed his hand, holding it over her butt. “Do you
now? I’ll have you know I make a horny drunk.”

Dylan laughed against her lips. “Don’t tempt me, peaches.”

“Oh but I do.”

Before he could say anything, Tammy spoke up. “Erica, it’s
your shot.”

Dylan stepped back and folded his arms as Erica spun away to
return to her game. Bill tapped him on the shoulder. “You going to play?”

Dylan slanted a look at the men preparing for the next hand.
“All right.”

Accepting a vacant seat, he was introduced to the other
players and told the rules. He pulled out his wallet and started to bet. Five
hands later, he was up fifteen dollars and men laughed uproariously and
bantered between each other. Dylan fell into an easy camaraderie and gave as
good as he got.

He stared down at his cards. Two pair. He had it in the bag.
Keeping his features casual, he tapped the edge of his cards to peer at the
remaining man in the game. “I’ll accept your dollar and raise you another
three.”

Frank, a barrel-chested man, leaned toward Dylan, a cigar
clamped between his teeth. “Big spender.”

But he met the bet.

Dylan chuckled with smug satisfaction and revealed his
cards. “Read ’em and weep.”

Franks’ shoulders drooped.
Yes!
He started forward to
retrieve his winnings when Frank threw his cards face up. “Full house.”

Dylan leaned back, his hands on his head. “No!”

“Ooh, yeah.”

The man scooped up the cash and Dylan accepted the pats of
empathy. “Hard break, buddy.”

Dylan drank his Coke and slapped the table. “Let’s do this.”

More bets were placed and men joked between each other. Two
hours passed and a few men became steadily drunker. Those he won against
easily, but there were still enough sober men to make a game out of it.
Occasionally, Dylan’s gaze would move to Erica and usually those moments
involved him losing the hand.

This time, Erica stood by the jukebox and pressed at the
buttons with more force than required. He shook his head. After the song wound
down, the next started up and Erica began to dance to
Love Rodeo
by
Raunch. Dylan choked on his drink. He’d never seen her move like that. Despite
the rock beat, she swung her hips, her hands hooked over her head. She rocked
her body in ways that made him think of sex.

“You still in?” asked Harry.

“No,” Dylan said absently and dropped his cards.

A round of groans went up. He must’ve had a good set, but he
didn’t care. He only had eyes for Erica. Walking up to her, he dropped his
hands on her waist. Erica looked up at him, a dreamy smile on her face. She
rolled her ass against his semi-erection and he groaned.

“You
do
make a horny drunk,” he said against her ear.

Erica cupped his neck from behind, her hair tickling his
cheek. Curled around her, he watched her suck her bottom lip, her eyes
half-mast. The chorus came up and she pulled away to circle him in a sensual
sway. Dylan twisted around, mesmerized by her. He caught her wrist and pulled
her into him, his thigh inserted between her legs. They danced together, the
world receding.

She wrapped her arms about his neck, her alcohol-tinged
breath whispering over his lips. “This song was playing when I first met you.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah. You know, this song is about
sex
?”

He muffled a laugh. “Really?”

She nodded and then she began to sing. “Honey, why don’t you
let go and ride my wild bronco. Love Rode-ee-oh-oh-ooh!”

She sung the chorus out of tune and Dylan found it adorable.

“See, the bronco is his
penis
,” she finished on a
loud whisper.

Dylan kept his voice perfectly level. “Is that right?”

She frowned at him in a mixture of annoyance and
befuddlement. “Yes.”

Everyone knew that song implicated sex, but she appeared to
find it important she enlighten him. They danced in silence, Erica’s body glued
to him. He preferred not to put on a public show and pulled from her. “Let’s go
home.”

“All right.”

As he walked her toward the door, she tottered behind him.
“Bye, Tammy! We’re going home to have sex!”

Dylan shook his head. She was going to regret this tomorrow.

Men chuckled as he passed them by.

“Have fun,” Harry said on a wink.

“I’ll see you next week at the barbeque,” Dylan said to
Frank.

He walked Erica to his truck. He helped her in, but the
minute he slipped into the driver seat she climbed onto his lap. Automatically,
her hands fell on her hips. Her pussy rocked against his shaft.

She cupped his cheeks. “Kiss me.”

Dylan hesitated but drew her down. He tasted grapefruit and
sugar as he plied her with a hungry kiss. She moaned and rocked against him,
sending spikes of pleasure through his cock. The jeans tamed his erection,
keeping it between a semi and a full hard-on. Damn it.

Erica shifted and unbuttoned the top of his jeans. He knew
where this would head if he didn’t stop and he clasped her wrist, halting all
movement. His dick screamed at him for being an idiot. Erica’s bleary gaze
stabbed him with guilt. He shouldn’t have sex with her when she was this drunk.

“I don’t have any protection,” he whispered.

She kissed him again. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do. Come on. I’ll drive you home and we’ll take it
from there.”

She pouted at his answer but slipped off him. Dylan heaved
an almost imperceptible sigh and drove them home. The ride quickly turned from
steamy to queasy. Forced to pull over twice, he held her as she vomited by the
side of the road. Each time she promised never to drink again through
tear-glazed eyes. Dylan rubbed her back and kissed her nape, his heart hurting
for her.