Chapter Fifteen
Dylan
Chantel was in my arms,head on my shoulder, lips at my neck.And it was the most centered I’d felt all fucking day.
I carried her to the side of my bed, set her down, and just stared.
She was stunning.All silk and polish and expensive perfume in a bedroom with nothing going for it but clean sheets.Too elegant, too refined for this place.For me.
And yet, nothing about having her here felt wrong.
“Is there a secret to taking off this fancy dress?”I ran my hands down her sides, savoring the soft fabric and her curves underneath.
“No.Just the zipper in the back.”Her heated gaze searched mine.
I stepped in behind her, my fingers trailing across silk until I found the zipper.I dragged it down, the quiet rasp of metal the only sound in the room, revealing the arch of her bare back.
But as the dress fell away, so did my hands.
The temptation to explore her body was overwhelming.But I knew how this would go—touch, taste, take, possess her completely.And tonight, of all fucking nights, that was a bad idea.
“Don’t move.”I brushed my lips over her ear and inhaled the sweet scent of honey before forcing myself to move away.
She didn’t question me.Didn’t argue.She stood with the silk pooled at her feet, her body on display, waiting for whatever order I’d give next.
That kind of trust shouldn’t have been mine.Not tonight.
Fuck, maybe not ever.
I went to my dresser and pulled out a T-shirt.It was worn soft from a thousand washes, with the logo of my favorite Montreal hockey team faded across the chest.For a moment, I just stood looking at it.
Why did I want her here so badly when I had nothing to offer?How big of a prick was I, using her warmth to drown out another woman…and another fucking man?
Truth was, she deserved better than this.Better than me—a man whose head was so full of other people he couldn’t properly appreciate the one in front of him.
And yet I couldn’t bring myself to send her away.
When I turned back to her, she was standing exactly as I’d left her.She hadn’t moved a fucking inch.The submissiveness of that gesture hit me low, calling me back toward her.
My eyes traveled the length of her—the soft curve of her shoulders, the tight peaks of her nipples, the flare of her hips, the long line of her legs.All of her, achingly beautiful.And waiting.
For something I couldn’t give her.
Not that I didn’t want to.There was nothing I wanted more than to fuck her into oblivion.But after Sean, after the wedding, after she’d opened up to me about her dreams and goddamn aspirations, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I crossed the room and pulled the shirt down over her head before I could change my mind.
I was still an asshole.
But I was working on it.
She fixed her hair, pulling it free from the collar and brushing it out of her face.But her eyes were stuck on mine, searching for answers I couldn’t give.
I took her hand and pulled her into bed with me.She climbed in without a word and curled into my side like she belonged there.Her cheek found a spot just under my collarbone, and her hand settled flat against my chest.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head and let myself breathe her in.
For the first time all day, the noise in my head went quiet.Not gone.Just faded enough to let me fall asleep.
