Chapter Six

Jen

 

Mom was hosting a New Year’s Eve party.

Wanting to avoid heavy traffic, I started for Los Angeles in the morning, Dylan’s number in my pocket. I’d debated all week whether to call him or not, the note mocking my hesitance from the refrigerator.

I stopped for lunch at a diner within city limits and used the pay phone. Yeah, I was the only person under forty that still didn’t own a cell phone, but I rarely left home.

The person on the other end of the line picked up after two rings. “Yeah?”

Dylan’s voice.

I sighed in relief that it was a real number.

“Hello?”

Speak, Jennifer. “Oh, hi… I mean, this is Dylan, right?”

“Jen?”

Was it my imagination, or did he sound excited to hear from me? “Yeah.”

“I was starting to think…um, what’s up?”

I chewed my lip. “Well, I know it’s last minute, but…do you have plans tonight?”

“When and where.”

I grinned and did a little dance in the booth. “My mom is having a party, so it’ll be mostly old people, but—”

“I’d love to. Come and pick me up.”

With a notebook always in my purse, I wrote down directions to his apartment and hung up after agreeing on seven o’clock. Finished with lunch, I drove to Mom’s to change clothes.

It had to be a good sign he said yes so quickly, right?

Getting ready in my old bathroom lent a sense of déjà vu to the whole thing. How many times had I prepped in front of this mirror for a date hoping this guy would actually get me?

“Wow, sexy dress just for Mom’s party,” Shelley said.

I applied lip gloss and assessed my reflection. “This old thing?”

My sister smirked at me. “If it’s old, you might want to cut the tag off.” She reached for scissors in a drawer and snipped the tag off the back of my dress.

“Thanks.”

The dress had a deep V in the back. I left my hair down so there would only be flashes of skin as I moved, but I hoped Dylan liked it.

He’d spent a love-making session kissing my spine on Christmas Eve.

My blood heated at the mere thought of it.

Shelley leaned on the wall and watched me finish primping. “So, who is he?”

I froze. “Who’s who?”

“The new guy you’re sexing it up for.”

“You’re fifteen. ‘Sexing it up’ should not be in your vocabulary.”

A classic teen eye roll. “Pffft, whatever. I see sluttier stuff on TV. So? Who is he?”

“None of your business.” I tossed the lip gloss in my purse. “I gotta go or I’ll be late.

“Knock him dead, Jen.”

I hoped so.

I ran out the door and to my car.

And prayed traffic from Rolling Hills to his apartment would be light.

I parked in front of his building at exactly seven. A nicer building than I expected. My hands sweating, I took the elevator and knocked on his door.

He only made me wait a second.

“Hey—whoa.”

He looked me up and down.

“Happy New Year’s Eve.” I almost jumped him right there.

The heat in his eyes promised more sinful delights if I only said yes. He answered the door while still buttoning his shirt, giving me a nice glimpse of skin, and his hair was tousled in similar fashion to how I’d made it look when he went down on me in the living room.

I clenched my thighs together.

“Come in. I was just about to grab my coat.”

I walked into his home and looked around. Two guitars sat on stands in the corner, one the acoustic I’d already heard, and one electric. A modern building, the finishes were all relatively new, and minimal. Guess he wasn’t another starving musician like I assumed. There was a big flat-screen TV across from an overstuffed leather sofa.

He came out of the bedroom with his leather jacket. His hair was tied back. “Have to admit I was surprised you called today.”

Blushing, I chewed my lip. “Wasn’t sure I should. I mean, I don’t really do that… I mean, before I was married—”

“Jennifer, I don’t think you’re a slut.

“Oh, good.” Then my eyes widened. “Wait, did you want a slut?”

He grinned and took my hands. “I want someone that wants to be with me.”

“Oh. Well, party, so…”

What was it about him that turned me into a babbling moron?

“You look amazing.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed me cheek. “When does this party start?”

I inhaled his cologne. He smelled delicious. He kissed the spot below my ear.

“Pretty much now, but…people will arrive any time before midnight.”

“So, there’s no rush.” He kissed my neck.

Pulse quickening, I tilted my head to give him further access. “Not technically…”

He wrapped one arm around me, his hand landing on my bare back. The smile he showed then was entirely wicked. “You wear this for me?”

I nodded. “Bought it for you.”

He moaned. “We’re not leaving right away.”

He started walking backward to the bedroom.

“Okay.” My panties were already soaked, so why prolong the inevitable?

He dropped his coat on the floor and peeled the dress off my shoulders while I undid his belt buckle. My dress slid to the floor.

Too impatient to get naked, we pushed enough clothes out of the way to join and fell to his bed. I climbed onto his lap, sank down on him, and sighed.

“Missed this,” he said.

I rolled my hips, making him moan and tighten his grip on my thighs. “Only this?”

His hands moved up my waist to cradle my breasts. I gasped when he gave my nipples a little twist. “And these. And your smile. Come back with me after the party.”

I slowed down. “What for?”

“I want to buy you breakfast in the morning.”

“Midnight isn’t morning.”

“I know.”

I could find worse uses for my time. “And after breakfast I go home?” I needed to know if this was only a hook-up, or…

“Do you need to get home?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

He sat up to kiss me. “Then we’ll see what comes to mind.”

I smiled. Good enough for now.

Talking meant we weren’t kissing, and Dylan’s mouth was made for kissing.

“I could watch you bounce on my dick all night.”

Except he felt like chatting.

“We don’t have all night.”

He flipped our position on the bed. “Then I guess we’ll have to pick up the pace, won’t we?” He nipped my breast. “Love your pretty tits.”

My nose wrinkled up. “I don’t usually like that word.”

“What, tits?”

“Yeah. But you say it so nice.”

He grinned and kissed me. I felt my inner muscles tightening, the ball of sensation growing with each stroke that rubbed my clit.

“What else do you like, sweet Jenny?”

“The…the…oh, god, like that…how do you do that…”

He groaned. “Made for me, you were. Open your eyes, baby.”

I obeyed and stared into his baby blues. My orgasm built. I was so close and he’d only been touching me for five minutes. More, more, more…

I cried out his name.

Wow, stars…

We tried to catch our breath.

“You know, we keep forgetting condoms,” he said next to me.

“I’m on birth control. Are you…?”

“Clean. Had a check-up after my last relationship.”

“Okay then.”

Once I could make my legs work, I got up to dress in his bathroom. My reflection made my jaw drop. Just-been-fucked hair—check.

At least the fabric of my dress didn’t wrinkle or I’d have to wear my jacket all night.

Oh, god, Mom’s so going to know when she looks at me.

I found a brush in my purse and attacked the tangles he’d created. Mom would give me the evil eye if we were too late.

Dylan walked in with a glass of water, his shirt still un-tucked. “Here.” He set the glass on the counter and took the brush out of my hand. “You look hot.”

“I look like I’ve been up to no good.” I sipped the water and sighed at the feel of the brush on my scalp. Why did it always feel better when someone else did it?

“I’d say you were very good.”

I scowled at him in the mirror. “Not what I meant and you know it.”

My tresses smooth again, he set the brush on the counter and ran his hands up my thighs.

“Stop that.”

Then groped my ass. “Stop what?”

“Stop—” I felt him slide into me again from behind. “Ohhh… You have a kink about mirrors, don’t you?”

His face showed no shame. “You like it.”

“With you I do.”

That was the last time either of us spoke until we were done, this round a lot faster than the one before. I did like watching in the mirror, though it was hard to keep my eyes open when he made me feel so good. The longer we spent together in one place, the harder it was to resist wrapping around each other.

I looked at my watch and swore. After redoing my lipstick, I rushed him out the door.