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CHAPTER 15
Dylan
Later that night, I opened the large linen closet in the hallway and started collecting some supplies for the master bathroom.
The beach house had been extremely clean, but it had obviously been a while since anyone had been here.
I’d just used the last bath towel after my shower, so I grabbed a few more and a couple of floor mats.
Without Anita and Clarence around in the Beverly Hills house, I’d gotten pretty good at fending for myself, with the exception of cooking my own meals. I’d also realized to appreciate just how many little things the couple did around that home simply to ensure my comfort and convenience.
I wished I could say I felt better after the long shower, but I didn’t. I’d gotten myself off to fantasies of burying myself inside Kylie’s tight, hot, gorgeous body, but that had barely taken the edge off.
After hearing and feeling her climax beneath me, sexual imagery while I stroked my own cock until I watched the results of that empty orgasm disappearing down the shower drain felt nearly useless.
I wanted the real thing.
My cock buried inside her while I lost myself in her scent and her needy little moans as she begged me to fuck her.
“Jesus!” I muttered as I loaded the linens and supplies on my arm.
I had to accept that cock-hardening scenario was never going to play out in real life.
Kylie had made that perfectly clear.
Even though the white-hot chemistry was there for both of us, she didn’t want to take a chance on us.
Could I really blame her? Hell, no, I couldn’t.
I understood why I didn’t seem like the kind of guy a woman could trust, given my past actions.
But that didn’t mean I liked the fact that she thought I could fuck her and just walk away.
I couldn’t. And it was much more likely that I’d end up being the injured party if our relationship was just a few nights of casual sex.
That wasn’t the way I felt about Kylie, and whether we got down and dirty over the next few weeks or not, I would prove to her that I was worth taking a gamble on.
Maybe it had taken me a while to admit it to myself, but Kylie Hart was meant to be mine.
I knew that with a clarity of mind I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
I’d never been the possessive type, but just the thought of any other guy except me touching her made me completely and insanely demented.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
No matter how long it took, she’d eventually realize that she had me by the balls and that my days of seeking out distractions were over.
I didn’t need to be diverted anymore.
All I needed was to see her smile, and my whole fucking day was complete.
I’d just closed the closet when I heard the sound of breaking glass.
“Dammit!” Kylie cried out, her voice distressed.
Her bedroom door was right next to the linen closet.
I dropped the supplies on the floor.
