Page 2 of Dark Truth

“Then take some time and think about it. For tonight”—Dylan paused to take the letter from me—“let me feed you to dinner, and you can relax for a bit. You look tired. Do you want to stay in and order something?”

“Let’s order food. I look grubby, and I don’t want to see anyone but you tonight.” I leaned against him, and he took me in his arms.

Immediately, the world faded away, and there was only Dylan’s face and the safety of his arms. I relaxed and sighed. “Maybe we can try out that hot tub.”

“Now that sounds like a plan. Let me order food, and we’ll get set up.”

I went out to make sure everything was right for a dip, the air was still a bit chilly but not bad, and then went into the kitchen. I cleaned out the pot the pasta had caught fire in and the rest of the dishes. I wasn’t used to this kind of life, but I wasn’t a bad cook. I’d had too much on my mind with that stupid letter, and I’d let Trent get to me. I shouldn’t have allowed that, but I had.

I didn’t know what to do about the mess my brother had put me in. He’d said he was sorry, wanted to rebuild our ties to each other. He wanted to meet us both, Dylan and I, over dinner to talk things through. Maybe Jessi had smoothed things over, but it still nagged at me that she hadn’t called. Trent could have given her the number, or she could have contacted me on social media. I hadn’t changed any of that.

I hadn’t heard from any of them, though. I was persona non grata, and they’d let me know it, all of them. Until I’d started to move on with my life. Now that Dylan and I had agreed to share a home and our lives together, they’d decided to come back. As always, it was on their terms too.

Trent wanted to meet us. He didn’t ask me if I’d like to meet or where. He’d just said, I’d like to meet you over dinner. I realized I’d been drying the same pot for a very long time and put it down. Yet again, Trent was interrupting my life.

I wanted to celebrate the new life I had with Dylan and, for tonight, my family could wait. I had a new person in my life, a new life, and he’d earned every bit of my love and trust. He’d pushed me over the edge of endurance sometimes, he’d pushed me to be more every single day, and I loved him for it.

He could have given up, said fuck it, and walked away when I didn’t want to sign contracts. He could’ve found someone more willing to do what he wanted for the money he offered, but I’d never been in it for the money. I’d been in it for pleasure and nothing more. He’d sensed that, knew it, and together we’d created something worth fighting for.

I would fight my family if it came down to it, I would refuse to see any of them, if it was a choice between them and Dylan. They’d shown me their colors, and Dylan’s hadn’t run. I owed it to him to let this go for tonight. He had his own demons to face down, and we had work to do. We’d do them both, together.

I poured two glasses of chilled white wine and took them into his office. It was simply decorated, a small desk, his laptop, and a couch. A couch that needed breaking in, I thought with a dirty smirk. “Get something ordered?”

Dylan pushed away from his chair, his Oxford shirt open at the throat, and the charcoal gray trousers begging to be opened. He held his arms out to me, and I went to him. I knelt in front of him, eager to please and ready for his love. “I did, darling. Your favorite Chinese will be here shortly.”

“Oh, that sounds yummy, but I know something that tastes like heaven, right here at home.” I let my fingers trail down the zipper of his trousers and licked my lips. My eyes were on his face, and I watched his gaze flick between my fingers and my lips with satisfaction. He was tempted then.

“There’s nothing more I’d like than to watch your lips wrap around my dick, Emily, but they’ll be here soon. I think we should wait.” His fingers slid along mine, and I pressed them into the rigid length beneath his zipper, belying his words.

“Darling,” I pouted with a wet smile. “I’ve thought about it all day long.”

Not a lie. I always had Dylan and sex in the back of my mind somewhere.

“You can wait another hour, pet.” His tongue darted out for a moment, but dragged it a little across his bottom lip on the way back in. He wanted to taste me, and I felt a response deep between my thighs.

“If I must.” I squeezed a little harder on his length, then stood. I leaned over to kiss him before he could respond. Our lips met with a passion that hadn’t dimmed at all, and he inhaled deeply. I felt his fingers run up my face and into my hair, as he deepened the kiss and turned it into something that was so much hotter.

I moaned into his mouth and pulled him up from the chair. Our lips never parted as I backed up against the wall. With a groan of resignation, filled with desire, Dylan picked me up and pressed me into the wall. I felt him pressing into me in just the right way and wrapped my legs around him with glee.

He broke the kiss and looked down at me. “You fucking little tease. You just want to get off before you eat, don’t you?”

“You know me well, sir.” I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, but smiled that dirty smile he’d taught me.

“If that’s what you want, I don’t mind meeting the delivery boy with your scent all over my face.”

Something clenched inside of me, and I screamed with joy when he turned and dropped me on the desk. He stripped my shorts away as he knelt in front of me, spread my legs, and found the part of me that ached the most for him with his tongue.

“Dylan…” I sighed his name, my fingers in his hair. My head fell back, and I ground into him as his tongue worked at me. Quickly, and with an expert touch, Dylan’s tongue slicked over my clit, until my hips danced on the edge of the desk.

My legs were hitched over his shoulder, and I wanted to lean back, but the desk wasn’t wide enough. I had to make do with pressing my palms into the oak top and writhing against him. It wouldn’t take long, not when he wanted to make me come quickly. It never did, because he knew exactly what I liked.

“Baby, Dylan, fuck, make me come. Please.” It wasn’t necessary to beg, but the words came out just the same. He didn’t bother to answer, except to slide two fingers inside of me. As soon as he did, my walls went tight around his fingers, and my breath stopped. I could feel it, just out of reach. Just a little more … and then his fingers began to slide in and out of me, in time with his tongue.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s it, Dylan.” The world exploded, and I gave myself up to the first explosion.

He didn’t stop. He made sure the job was done right, and carried on until I begged him to let it end. That was about the time we heard the doorbell going. Our food was here.

Dylan stood, wiped his face, smirked at me and went to get the food. I put my shorts on as I listened to the exchange in the hallway with wobbly legs. I wondered if he’d consent to videoing that. I’d love to watch the whole thing from the outside, so to speak. The way he touched me, the way I responded. I considered it as I went into the kitchen. He was there, and I went up to kiss him.