Physical Distraction (The Physical Series Book 3) Page 11

  The warmth of his breath against her neck infused her with temporary peace. God, she needed that right now. Dylan had no idea how much his friendship was helping her to forget all her problems. Even if this was only a brief distraction from reality, she really liked Dylan’s formula for keeping her focus elsewhere.

  “I’m really glad you came over today,” he whispered, the sound a drugging effect on her nerves. “I hope you enjoyed this Christmas as much as I did.”

  Dylan nuzzled her neck as his hand gently stroked her hip, caressing the smooth skin and sending sparks of heat to her core. “I just wish my sister Rylie and her husband Mitch could have been here to celebrate with us. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  Sloane stiffened in response. “Dylan…”

  “Hey. Just chill, there Quick Draw Johnny.” He snickered, turning Sloane’s body to face him. “I know you won’t be in Boston permanently. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy you while I can, as much as possible. That is, if you want to.”

  The look on his face made her melt. Right into a puddle of gelatinous goo. How could she not want to spend more time with Dylan? He was funny, sweet, charming and so freaking hot it felt like she’d stepped into a burning fire every time she was near him.

  And the sex? She’d never had that kind of mind-blowing sex with anyone. Ever. Before. He did things to her that no one had ever done. That tongue thing? Yeah, she needed to do that again. And forget about the fact that he gave her an orgasm with just penetration. That had never happened to her before. But somehow, Dylan found her sweet spot. And she really, really wanted more of that. She was already a fiend, needing another Dylan fix.

  Sloane’s hand involuntarily smoothed down his stony abdomen, enjoying the sound of the slight intake of breath that came out of his mouth. Her fingertips traced around his navel, dipping in and then out, before moving further down the hard lines of his cut waist. He hissed when she palmed his cock, pulling on the hard length of him.

  “I have a feeling you’re going to become my addiction, Dylan Hemmons. And I might just need a daily dose of you while I’m around.”

  “Well then let me just say, I’m happy to oblige. Starting right now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Dude, you’re whistling. What are you, one of the seven-fucking-dwarves?”

  Dylan let out a barrel-chested laugh at Jason’s rude, but probably fairly accurate commentary about his current cheerful disposition. It wasn’t as if he was normally a scrooge on the job, or otherwise, but he had to admit, he’d been pretty damn happy the last two days. Okay, more than happy. Cloud nine-level delirious. How fucking pussy was that? And there was no doubt what caused that sudden change in his demeanor.

  Sloane.

  He grinned just at the thought of her name. Shit, her name alone caused a semi-hard on to start in his pants. Her name evoked images of her tied up naked on his bed. Naked in his shower. Bent over his kitchen table. On her knees in front of him – naked.

  Yeah, so his semi just went from zero to sixty, making him lose focus on the job he had been working on and trying to finish so he could get out of there early. So he could go see Sloane again tonight.

  “What the hell, man? Why you busting my balls? So I’m whistling, big fucking deal.”

  Dylan turned his head at the sudden sound of a loud thump. Jason knelt in front of an unfinished office wall, the electrical unit and exposed wiring tangled in knots on the floor by his feet. They’d been working on this project since before Christmas and were supposed to be done with it before the end of week. Dylan had no doubts they’d finish the work on time and under budget. They were both good at what they did and always worked well together. Even when his friend was yanking his chain.

  Aside from the hours at work, he hadn’t really spoken much to Jason since the night at the bar. Dylan had invited him over to his house for Christmas dinner, but knew Jason only had a few hours to spend with his kids over the holiday, and since it was their first year as a separated family, he wanted to make it special for them. The thought just tore his heart to shreds.

  Jason wasn’t an overly talkative guy and never shared his feelings about the separation and divorce with Dylan, but Dylan knew it weighed heavily on his friend. That was exactly the very reason Dylan never wanted a relationship. For all the great aspects that it could bring – companionship, friendship and lots of regular sex – it also had the potential to damage your heart and soul. Crush your sense of worth. Wreck any trust you may have ever had for the opposite gender.

  That’s why this thing he had going with Sloane seemed so perfect. While it remained unspoken, they both knew that their fling was just a fling. She’d be leaving as soon as she had the bar fixed up and ready to sell, and then would return to her life in California. And Dylan wasn’t about to start a relationship with a woman who lived clear across the country.

  But while she was here? Damn, he was sure as hell going to take advantage of their physical attraction and connection. She was open with what she wanted – and they both wanted each other.

  Jason’s response jarred him back to the hole in the wall in front of him.

  “You’re that dwarf, Happy. Or maybe Dopey,” he chuckled, picking up a wire cutter from the toolbox at his feet. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with that little Cinderella-looking barmaid from the other night.”

  Dylan swore under his breath. He had hoped that Jason had been so absorbed in his hook-up that he hadn’t noticed the fact that Dylan was devoting all of his attention to Sloane. He tried to keep his distance and not get caught staring at her, but apparently he wasn’t as stealthy as he thought he was. Especially around his best friend.

  Jason cocked his head and gave Dylan an assessing look. “Yep. I thought so. You got her into bed, didn’t you?”

  Dylan chortled. “Whatever, man. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. She’s a client, dude. We just signed the contract and are going to be redoing her bar starting next week. Either you or Kenny will be on point with me.”

  “Mmm hmm. And that’s why you invited her over for Christmas dinner?”

  Dylan whipped his head at the comment. “What? How the hell did you know that?”

  “I stopped over at your pops’ house last night to drop off a Christmas gift and card from the kids. We had a beer and he told me about the hot little California chick you had over. He told me you were making gooey-eyes at her. So…did you get lucky under the mistletoe?” Jason slapped his thigh, as if he’d just said the funniest thing ever.

  Dylan threw a greased-up towel at Jason’s head. He wasn’t bothered by Jason’s frank and direct question about his sex life, because come on, he’d been sharing those secrets since they were fifteen and jacking off to dirty magazines. But he felt strange, and a little protective, about spilling the details of his hook-up with Sloane. She wasn’t like the women he normally slept with. She was…well, he didn’t know what she was exactly. She was just different.

  “None of your business, dickweed. Now get back to work so we can get the hell out of here.”

  They spent the next forty-five minutes working and shooting the shit, Jason wisely veering off the topic of Sloane, although Dylan’s mind never strayed far from that topic. She was all he could think about over the last few days. All he wanted to do was head home to shower and go back over to Fitzgerald’s to spend the rest of the night hanging out with her. And once her shift was over, take her upstairs to her apartment, rub her aching muscles, get her naked and fuck her senseless. Last night, they didn’t even make it up the stairs before all hell broke loose, and he fucked her on the stairs.

  As they began packing up their trucks, Jason leaned against the cab door of Dylan’s Ford, a mischievous gleam in his eye, his arms crossed at his chest.

  “So. What do you say to a double date this weekend? You bring Sloane and I’ll bring Tiffany.”

  Dylan cocked his eyebrows. “The barely legal chick you met the other night? I
figured that was just a one-night thing. And she seemed really young, man.”

  His friend gave an innocent shrug of his shoulders, his lips curving in a devious smile. “She’s twenty-two. Not jailbait. And she’s fun. She’s going to school to become a pharmacy tech. Nothing serious, but she’s pretty hot.”

  Well what do you know? Jason Wells found himself a little crush. Wasn’t that cute?

  “Hey, I’m not knocking it, J. You should be having some fun right now – sowing your wild oats and all that shit. You were too young when you got together with Gina. Good for you for getting back out in the field.”

  Dylan opened the driver’s side door and threw his tool belt in the back seat, pulling his wool cap low over his head. Turning back around, he saw his friend was still waiting for an answer to his question.

  “But about the double date thing. I don’t know. Sloane and I…well, I don’t think we’re actually dating. It’s not gonna be anything serious, you know? We’re just hanging out until she heads back to San Diego.”

  Jason slapped a cold hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “Come on, D. It’s nothing serious between me and Tiffany, either. We’re just hanging out, too. And doing lots and lots of fucking. I just thought it’d be fun for the four of us to be ‘not serious’ together. What do you say? Maybe before New Year’s Eve?”

  “I don’t know…we’ll see. But Sloane is usually busy on those nights at the bar. But I’ll ask and let you know.”

  Jason slapped him on the back and began walking toward his own truck before turning back around.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Peer pressure has always worked on you, hasn’t it, buddy?” He snorted and jumped into his truck, Dylan flipping him the finger as he drove away.

  Dylan got into the cab of his own truck, started the engine, pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Sloane.

  You look stunning today.

  You haven’t even seen me yet.

  Don’t have to. I already know it.

  You are so getting laid tonight.

  Yeah. I know.

  Cocky much?

  Horny and cocky. A medical condition that you’re the cure for.

  *Groan* Get your ass over here. Soon.

  He smiled as he threw the phone down on the passenger seat and drove out of the parking lot. He didn’t know what he did to deserve meeting Sloane, but he was enjoying every minute with her. Everything with Sloane just seemed so easy. So natural. Her witty and oftentimes sarcastic humor. The hot sex they had together.

  He didn’t know what he had expected from her, but holy shit, this girl was uninhibited in every single meaning of the word. He’d never thought just from looking at her sweet and wholesome California girl exterior that she would be so wild and generous in bed.

  It wasn’t like he was into kinky bondage or BDSM, or anything hardcore, but Dylan had always liked to test the boundaries when he was with a woman. Some women he knew right from the start were only into vanilla sex, and that was okay with him. But when he found someone who could let loose and was free to trying out new things – experimenting with toys, varying positions, ropes, handcuffs, role playing – well, that was exactly what notched up his heat factor.

  And at the moment, Sloane just happened to be holding the match.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hey boss. We’ve got a girl passed out in the women’s bathroom,” Donnie said, as Sloane stepped up to the bar with a tray of dirty glasses. “Sounds like she may have puked all over the stall, too.”

  Sloane groaned as she set the tray down on the counter and glanced at her watch. This was definitely not one of the perks of owning a bar. Some people just didn’t know how to hold their liquor, and had no shut-off valve. She wished she could develop some method of testing people’s limits before serving them hard alcohol.

  “It’s only ten-thirty p.m., for Pete’s sake. Apparently the madness has started early tonight.”

  She lifted the bar hatch and grabbed a bottled water from the mini-fridge, picking up a clean dishrag before heading down the hallway toward the bathroom. “Donnie, can you call the cab company so we can get her home?”

  Donnie gave her a swift nod and picked up a phone underneath the bar. “You got it, boss.”

  It was nights like these that really had Sloane yearning for the days in a classroom with thirty obnoxious teenagers. They might have attitudes bigger than all the world leaders combined, and expressed not one ounce of desire to learn about history, but at least she wasn’t wiping up their foul-smelling vomit, or trying to talk sense into their alcohol-induced, semi-conscious brains. Good Lord, adults could be such fools sometimes.

  Sloane had never found the idea of getting wasted to the point of passing out to be a fun proposition. One, she never liked losing control of her faculties. Not that she was a Type-A personality or anything, because she didn’t mind losing control in the bedroom but in public it just never seemed like a good idea. She could drink and have fun, loosen up, but she always knew where her limits were and chose not to cross the line.

  And secondly, she’d seen far too many of her college friends getting so trashed and making fools of themselves, she just didn’t want to be one of the girls people talked about the next day. Her mother had done a good job instilling in her that a girl’s reputation is sometimes all she had. Once it was tarnished, it could never be remolded.

  Her mother. God, it had been two weeks now since she spoke to her mother. Sure, her mom had left a voicemail on Christmas, but it was short and to the point.

  “Darling, I realize things are a bit rocky right now. But you can’t run away from Blaine. He’s been over several times and he’s so remorseful about what happened. You need to give him another chance. He loves you. You can make this work. That’s what love means. Giving someone a chance when they may not always deserve it.”

  Say what now?

  She had no idea exactly what her mother knew about the situation that caused Sloane to leave Blaine’s ass so high-and-dry, but she doubted very much that Blaine told Darla Channing-Fitzgerald the whole story. That just wasn’t Blaine’s style. He’d never come clean to his mother about his jailbait indiscretions. He cared too much about his own ass and what her parents thought of him.

  As she reflected back over the course of their relationship, it seemed Blaine was always trying to use the Fitzgerald’s influence in the circles they ran in to help his career or future social standing. Sloane never cared about the money she had or the lifestyle in which she lived. While she appreciated it, and the luxuries it provided her, it never drove her the way it did Blaine.

  And she could never, in a million years, imagine her metrosexual ex-fiancé cleaning up a bar bathroom stall. She almost choked on her internal laughter.

  Reaching into the supply closet, Sloane yanked out the mop and bucket. As she rounded the corner of the bathroom corridor, a low, sexy voice sounded from behind.

  “I knew you’d look stunning tonight, but I had no idea how much it would affect me.”

  Dylan’s hands snaked around her waist and pulled her body back flush to his chest, causing Sloane to drop the items she’d been holding. She reveled in his masculine and woodsy scent, along with a little hint of the outdoors, and sighed. Just his presence had relief washing over her.

  One hand slid down her stomach, coming to a rest just below her navel, while his other hand moved to cup her jeans-clad butt. A groan escaped her lips as her head fell back to land against his hard chest. Her body sagged against his in a weary flop.

  “Hey there, babe. You doing okay?” His hands left their current spot and moved up to her shoulders, gently turning her around to face him.

  “It’s been a rough night. I’m about to fall flat on my face from exhaustion. I honestly don’t think I’m cut-out for this kind of responsibility. Three weeks ago I had my ass on a couch eating cookie dough ice cream and grading papers on a Tuesday night. Not preparing to mop up some drunk girl’s puke.”

  Dylan’s ha
nds began rubbing her shoulders, the tension slowly easing from her upper body under the pressure of his hands. She hadn’t realized just how tired and sore she was. Being on her feet fourteen hours a day was becoming almost too much for her to handle. And then, of course, there was the last two nights of less than four hours of sleep – thanks to the crazy, hot sex with the man in front of her now. But she wasn’t about to complain about that.

  Sloane had never before experienced such passion and intensity when it came to sex. Just standing here in the darkened corridor, his hands massaging the kinks out of her shoulders, had her mind wondering about what else he could do with those talented hands. And just like that, her panties grew damp and her sex began to throb.

  But she didn’t have time for that right now, no matter how much she wanted him.

  Stepping back to gain some distance, she shrugged off his hands and bent down to pick up the cleaning supplies she’d dropped.

  “Listen, Dylan. I’ve got to take care of things in here,” She jerked her head to the door to the bathroom. “I don’t know when I’m going to get a break. So maybe you should just go home tonight. I can see you tomorrow.”

  Reaching up on her tiptoes, she was about to kiss him when he placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed her away. Her face scrunched up in question.

  “Well, that’s the shittiest blow-off I’ve ever heard. I came here to see you tonight, and now that I have, I can see that my girl needs some help. And lucky for you, I have a great touch when it comes to drunk-ass women.” His bouncing eyebrows had her giggling and rolling her eyes at him. “So let’s go see what we’re dealing with, shall we?”

  Dylan bent down and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek, pulling the bucket and mop from her hands. Deciding it would be too much trouble to argue with him, Sloane let out a sigh of relief, giving in to his knight in shining armor assistance, and pushed open the door to the restroom.