“My hand? And why would something be wrong with my hand, sweet Dylan?”
I sigh. Sweet Dylan. Lord help me this guy is smooth. “Well, I just assumed you jerked off repeatedly at the image of me in each and every item in that store today. In fact, I’m counting on it.” The sound of coughing comes through the phone and I chuckle. “So tell me, why exactly would I accompany you to Agent Provocateur? I’m there enough as it is.”
After a brief moment of just his breathing in my ear which is making the hair on my neck stand up, he speaks. “Do you own any garters?” His voice is low and taunt. Christ, he sounds seductive even at work.
I can feel my pulse hammering in my neck as I bite my bottom lip. “Maybe, why?”
“Wear one tonight.”
Tonight? I’m going out for drinks with Joey and Juls tonight. Of course, where Juls goes, Ian goes. And Ian must have told Reese. I suddenly couldn’t wait for drinks.
“You know those cost a pretty penny, don’t you? I would hate to lose such an expensive item of clothing when you decide to steal it.” Even though I wouldn’t mind it entirely. He can confiscate every article of clothing I have for all I care.
“Who said anything about you taking it off?”
I grip the workbench and close my eyes, suddenly feeling like I could combust.
“Reese.”
“Dylan.”
I glance down at my shirt, my aroused nipples highly visible now. I moan softly into the phone before I answer in a whisper, “I’m so wet right now.”
A loud crack rings through the receiver and I know he’s dropped it. Ah, sweet victory.
“Are you serious?” he murmurs and I chuckle at his response. “Shit. You can’t tell me that when I’m stuck at work.”
I run my hand up and around my neck, feeling the clamminess of my skin. “Well I am. That voice of yours does that to me.”
Joey pops his head through the doorway and I immediately freeze. “Cupcake, we need more éclairs.”
I nod quickly, eyes wide as Joey’s grin gets bigger. “I guess I’ll see you later then?” I ask, moving towards the pastry rack. I know my face is beet red and feel like I’ve just been caught masturbating. Shit, I practically was.
He breathes heavily into the phone. “I’m counting on it.” The call ends, allowing me to grab the container of éclairs with both hands after I place the phone down on the worktop.
Turning quickly, I see Joey watching me, arms crossed. “You look all hot and bothered,” he says slyly through his smile.
“I am. And I’m not sure how I feel about it either.”
Pushing past him, I walk to the display case and fill the tray of pastries. He leans against the doorframe. “What does that mean? He wants you; obviously, you want him, again, obviously, so what’s the problem here?”
I close the case. “No problem. This is just sex. Really fucking good sex. So, no problem.” I brush past him and shake my head, silently communicating that this conversation is over. Because this is just sex. And even though I’ve always been a relationship kind of girl, I am more than capable of handling hot casual sex. Right?
**
Joey and I arrived at The Tavern at 8:30 p.m. after I spent over an hour debating what to wear. I had settled on my cream summer dress that hugged my curves in the most sinfully way possible. It bunched in the front, accentuating my cleavage and fell just above my knee. Paired with my matching heels and feeling my garter cling to my thighs, I felt secretly sexy. My hands shake as we step through the door, Joey leading the way through the packed bar. I have no idea why I’m so nervous. I’ve already had sex with the guy. And now I knew for sure that he enjoyed it as much as I did and didn’t regret it. But for some reason, my heart is pounding in my ears and my stomach is clenched tight. Come on, Dylan. You can do this. He wants you and you sure as hell want him.
I follow Joey to the bar where Juls is perched on a stool, messing with her phone. With no members of the Chicago man candy club in sight, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Finally. Holy hell, Dylan. That dress. Shit, that might actually kill him.” She grins wickedly and runs her eyes down my body.
I twirl quickly as Joey whistles. “You bitches annoy me with your hot little figures,” he grumbles, motioning for the bartender.
“Joey is buying because he’s a shithead who steals phones out of people’s hands,” I say as Juls hops down from her stool.
“Excellent. I love it when Joey is a shithead. White Zinfandel for me, JoJo.”
He glares at her and then at me.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that. Telling Reese that I wanted to have his babies. You’re lucky I’m only making you buy us drinks.” I cock my head to the side and stare him down.