Tempting Her Best Friend (8 page)

But it never was.
She didn’t say the words aloud, but they hovered over her like a dark cloud threatening to drench her in its bad memories.

“Hey,” he said, reaching across and taking her hand in his steady grip. “Let’s not take any trips down memory lane today, okay? Let’s stay focused on the here and now.” She took a deep breath and nodded with a wan smile. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Chapter Seven

It was called a Lollipop Passion Goblet and for a damn good reason.

When Dillon disappeared during their appetizer course, he’d returned with an alcoholic concoction of pineapple, melon, and coconut flavors. It tasted like heaven in the tropics but looked like the genius brainchild of a third grader’s imagination.

A glass goblet the size of a small fishbowl held neon-green liquid and literally “smoked,” courtesy of a chunk of dry ice. The thick layer of white sat on top of the drink, a ghostly version of whipped cream that bubbled over the edge like a witch’s cauldron. Topping it all off was a playful garnish of a unicorn lollipop, the rainbow kind that swirled up a long stick and could always be found in old-fashioned candy shops. It was stuck into the drink upside down with two candy necklaces wrapped around the handle.

Absolute. Perfection.

Alyssa took another long sip from her straw and felt the last of her tension slip away. It was hard to remain serious with a candy choker around her neck and another double wrapped on her right wrist. The edges of her mouth tipped up in a lazy smile as she swirled the ice around with the sucker and let her thoughts spill freely like the smoke from her drink.

Though she wasn’t even buzzed, the alcohol had helped lift the melancholy mood she’d been headed toward after discussing her father. It also aided in taking the edge off the underlying anxiety she’d felt since waking up next to her best friend after he’d thoroughly fucked her for several hours the night before and again that morning.

Wow, Aly, crass much?
Apparently the liquor had also loosened her internal vernacular. Or maybe it was the multiple mind-blowing orgasms. Either way, she couldn’t think of a different phrase that did it any justice, much less one that was more polite. There hadn’t been
anything
polite about what they’d done on her bed. And in her bathroom. And bent over the desk…

“Aly.”

Her eyes flicked up to his as she dragged her thoughts, kicking and screaming, back to the present. “Hmm?”

Dillon placed his forearms on the table and leaned in so the nearby customers couldn’t hear his gruff question. “Is it your intention to make me and every other man around us jealous of that sucker?”

Alyssa froze, horrified to realize that she’d been working the long shaft of candy in and out of her mouth, unwittingly mimicking the base images filling her head. She had two choices: admit she’d had no idea what she was doing and then pretend like it never happened, or ride this new wave of sexual exploration and see what she was truly capable of.

Slowly, she pulled the sucker from her mouth, then licked her lips as she mirrored his pose. “On the contrary,” she said with a challenging arch in her brow. “I know how sensitive men can be when it comes to size. I’m merely trying to make it smaller so you don’t feel inadequate in comparison.”

For a brief moment, Dillon appeared stunned speechless and she wondered if her joke was a tad below the belt. Pun intended.
Shit.
Maybe Dillon
was
self-conscious—needlessly, she might add—about what he had going on down there.

Then, as if something snapped into place for him, he laughed and sat back in his chair, considering her carefully. Too carefully. With his elbows on the armrests and his fingers steepled and pressing against his soft lips. His piercing gaze made her feel naked and vulnerable and not a little antsy.

Her hubris now gone, she started to fidget in her seat and feign interest in the woman trying to hold her menu at arm’s length so she could read the fine print sans reading glasses. Alyssa guessed the time to be somewhere around twelve thirty as the sun had barely shifted the world’s shadows from dead center to slightly askew.

“I think it’s time we head back to the hotel,” he said. “Why don’t you grab us a taxi around the corner, and I’ll get the bill.”

Happy to have something to do other than squirm under the sudden sexual tension, Alyssa dropped the phallic candy into what was left of her drink and scraped her chair back. But before she had the chance to rise, Dillon was at her ear. “Bring the sucker.”

And then he was gone, walking away from her as though he hadn’t just implied a dozen dirty possibilities with three innocuous words.

With a hand that trembled more than she’d ever admit, she retrieved the sucker and went to grab them a cab from the front entrance of the Paris hotel.

Five minutes later, she sat in the backseat, pressed against Dillon’s side with his arm around her shoulders. If this had been a couple of days ago, she would have relaxed into him and even rested her head against him in comfortable companionship.

But now everything had changed. Especially him. His demeanor was no longer casual, but deliberate. Every move he made had a purpose, a part in whatever plan he’d concocted in that gorgeous head of his. And not knowing what it was nearly drove her mad.

He sat in the middle with her to his left. Sitting directly behind the driver hid the way Dillon’s fingers caressed the side of her breast. It would hide a lot of things if he so wished. Staring straight ahead, he gave the impression that nothing out of the ordinary was going on. All things considered, not much was.

How quickly that changed.

The driver took a call with his Bluetooth and started an animated conversation in another language. Dillon must have figured the guy had enough to focus on with the phone call and navigating the insanity that was the Las Vegas Strip traffic to notice much of anything happening behind him.

Grasping her right hand, he licked a few pieces of candy on the underside of her wrist, tonguing the sugary rounds and her pulse point beneath. The tingle of desire chased up her arm in goose bumps and spread over her chest, tightening her nipples.

He emitted a soft groan, placed her hand on the hard bulge in his jeans, and bent to whisper in her ear. “You make me so fucking hard, Aly. I love watching you react to the things I say and do to you. Already your nipples are straining against your clothes, aching for my mouth. Am I right?”

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, but underlined it with a firm stroke down his erection. She felt a hiss of breath on her neck, followed by the vibrations from a devious chuckle. “So, the little minx wants to come out and play, does she?”

Shit, what the hell did he mean by that? “What? No, I—”

Her explanation was cut off by the jolting stop of their cab as their driver laid on the horn and swore at a car that pulled out in front of them. Distracted by the commotion, Alyssa didn’t see Dillon move his hand to the juncture at her legs. But when he pushed his hand between her thighs, her hips bucked in response, and it was all she could do to choke back her moan. He stroked over the seam in her jeans, bisecting her sex with her panties that were fast growing wet from desire.

Her eyes drifted closed. “Oh, God,” she rasped, her throat suddenly as arid as the desert.

“My thought exactly when I saw you sucking on that candy.” His head dipped lower and lapped at the candy necklace around the base of her throat. His fingers worked her over in a slow and sensual manner that matched the way he licked and suckled at the candy and her neck. “Show me again, Aly.”

Show him…
Her eyes flew open. He couldn’t mean what she thought.

“Put the sucker in that hot little mouth of yours. Show me what you’d do if it were me.”

Okay, he
did
mean what she thought. But he couldn’t be serious. Despite the cabbie being mostly preoccupied with his caller and the traffic, he still glanced in the rearview mirror every so often. He might not be able to see her hard nipples or Dillon’s hand doing wicked things between her legs, but everything above her shoulders was perfectly visible. The thought of following Dillon’s instructions while making eye contact with their driver was an awkward one.

On the other hand, he’d worked her damn near into a frenzy. His fingers rubbed circles over her clit, the friction of her clothing heightening the sensation. Tension coiled low in her belly, building to an orgasm she desperately wanted, yet couldn’t imagine having in the back of a Las Vegas cab with their driver as a witness.

Dillon must have read her trepidation on her face and knew the line of her thinking. With how well he knew her, it would be impossible to hide things from him. Whether a benefit or curse, she couldn’t be sure.

With his head next to hers, he spoke low enough that she could hear him clearly, but would be nothing more than deep-sounding murmurs to their driver. “Close your eyes for me, Aly.” She did and was glad for it. She’d rather forget where she was at the moment. “Good girl. Now, block out the world around us. Focus on what I’m doing to you. Focus on my voice and the things I say to you. If you can do that for me, I’ll make you come hard like I know you want to.”

“I-I don’t want to…” That wasn’t necessarily true. Physically, she was ready to beg for it. Mentally, she didn’t
want
to want it right then and there. But she was fast learning that where Dillon and sex were involved, her body overruled her mind. Every. Damn. Time.

“Yes, you do. You’re so wet I can feel it through your jeans.” He stroked his fingers hard up her center, proving his point. Her hips bucked when he grazed her distended clit.
Oh, God!
“Suck on that lollipop, Aly. Torture me with images of your mouth on my cock.”

Without another moment’s hesitation, she did as he requested. Though the swirling sucker wasn’t anywhere near his girth, the length seemed pretty close since she couldn’t get the last inch in. Once it was in as far as she could take it, Alyssa wrapped her lips around it and sucked as she dragged it from her mouth.

Dillon groaned and pulled her right leg over his left to anchor it and keep her open. As he continued to massage her sex and rub her clit, she lost herself in the moment. In the growing ball of fire in her gut, its flames licking at her extremities, threatening to burn her alive.

She thrust the sucker in her mouth over and over again. Sometimes hollowing her cheeks with the suction, sometimes gliding it back and forth on her flattened tongue or licking circles around the tip. Imagining it was Dillon’s thick cock made her even hotter. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck and almost made it into the valley of her cleavage before Dillon caught it with his tongue and retraced its path, ending at her ear.

“I’ve never seen anything so sexy as you on the edge, baby. It’s almost more than I can bear to watch you without coming on myself like a damn teenager.”

Alyssa let her hand wielding the sucker drop to her thigh. She wanted to respond. To tell him he could make her wet with the smallest of actions, or just by changing the tone in his voice or the look in his eyes. But she couldn’t manage anything intelligible as he quickened his strokes. The steady rhythm acted as a bellows, feeding oxygen to the fire inside her to consume her once and for all.

“Arriving at Masquerade hotel and casino.”

Alyssa forced her heavy lids open just as the car turned into the semicircular drive that surrounded the immense reflecting pool.
No! I’m so close!
Dillon lifted her leg from his and gently returned it to its original position. A whimper eked from her throat unbidden.

“Shhh…” Resting his cheek at her temple, his promise was a mix of comfort and warning. Both warmed her like whiskey burning a path through her body. “It’s only a small break. Once I get you alone, there’ll be no stopping the pleasure I give you.”

Someone cleared their throat. The driver. “Maybe you want me to take a more scenic route?”

“No, thanks. Here you go,” Dillon replied and gave the man a few bills along with her half-sucked sucker. Alyssa laughed and scrambled out of the cab, followed by Dillon who grabbed her hand and led her into the hotel. She had to practically jog to keep up with him. Pulling her along, he wove in and out of passersby, a man on a mission with no time for petty distractions.

They boarded an elevator with a quaint family of four. The heat that had plagued her body moments before in the cab now flooded her chest and cheeks for an entirely different reason. The little girls stared up at her and Dillon with the normal, open curiosity of youth. But Alyssa felt like she wore a sign around her neck detailing her recent crime against polite society. To hell with wearing a scarlett letter. Hers was the whole damn alphabet.
I just gave head to a lollipop while my best friend/lover (almost) made me come in public.

Well, not exactly
public
, but within two feet of a total stranger who had access to a rear-facing mirror. It didn’t matter how much he could or couldn’t see, or whether he’d been paying attention or not. The whole situation was nothing less than deplorable…right?

So, aside from the slight embarrassment of realizing how caught up in the act she’d been, why didn’t she feel a deep-seated sense of shame with a side of regret? Yet more unexpected behavior for her to process. At this rate she’d need a monthlong retreat just to evaluate this one weekend.

As they continued to ride in the typical awkward silence of a shared elevator, Dillon placed a large hand on the back of her neck and started kneading. His strong, work-roughened fingers worked magic, chasing away her mounting tension before it locked up her entire body.

He leaned in close. “Stop overthinking things, Aly.”

Alyssa was beginning to resent his keen awareness of her. Did he always know her thoughts? She’d always considered her excellent poker face extended to every day life. That people found her hard to read, which was how she preferred it. Her feelings were her own, and if she didn’t want the world to know what they were, then keeping them hidden was a talent worth having.

But Dillon continued to read her as if she advertised everything on a lighted marquee. Since she’d never had the need to hide anything from him until this weekend, he’d never had to call her out on anything. Now she wondered if her poker face wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, or if Dillon simply knew the answers to all her riddles.

And holy shit she was now overthinking him knowing when she was overthinking.