Our Secret Summer

Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

Dylan had waited weeks for this moment. At last, it was happening. Raffo’s strong fingers curled around her wrist. Dylan wasn’t sure why she was so hung up on this specific gesture, because Raffo had done many other things to her in Big Bear, yet this was the one her mind had been stuck on. Maybe because, subconsciously, it claimed a kind of ownership that was unthinkable outside of the bedroom. It drove Dylan wild when Raffo held her wrists above her head, even though her grip wasn’t that tight and Dylan could easily shake herself loose, yet that was the very last thing she wanted to do.

Or maybe it was because it made her breasts jut out, vulnerably, but also irresistibly, to Raffo, who was as crazy about her breasts as she was about Dylan’s personality.

The evidence was on display on the opposite wall to the bed they were in. Raffo had painted that topless image from a raw, primitive instinct. From a place inside her she couldn’t hide from. Dylan had spent many hours staring at that painting, and she’d given it a lot of thought. That was the only and inevitable conclusion she had drawn.

And now, she could actually ask Raffo. They could lie in Dylan’s bed together and study the painting and spend hours discussing its myriad meanings—Dylan looked forward to how adorably uncomfortable that would make Raffo.

For now, she lay panting in Raffo’s grasp. Dylan tried to steady her breathing, but it was futile. Her body was all revved up from watching Raffo climax earlier, her voice deliciously low and her face all tortured satisfaction.

Raffo caught Dylan’s hard nipple between her lips, then swept her soft, warm tongue over it. It was, contained in one second, the very thing that made Raffo so enchanting. She was soft and hard all at once, her hardness an undertone that never overshadowed the softness at her surface.

One night in bed in Big Bear, Raffo had told her a few things that she and Mia had done in bed—from what Dylan could gather, mostly on Mia’s insistence. Although, from the start, Raffo had struck her as someone not easily swayed by what someone else wanted from her. But maybe that was the power Mia’d had over her at the dying end of their relationship. Maybe giving in to Mia’s whims—for whips as well as open relationships—had been Raffo’s last-ditch attempt at trying to salvage things. And she had learned the hard way that it didn’t work.

Just as Raffo’s grip on Dylan’s wrists wasn’t one-sidedly tight, and the clasp of her lips on her nipple wasn’t just agonizingly sharp, Raffo was so many delicious things gathered in one person. Principled enough not to date her best friend’s mother but also strong enough, when she simply couldn’t take it anymore, to change her mind and stand up to Connor. To do that for Dylan—for them. No wonder Dylan hadn’t been able to get over her.

Dylan no longer had any intention of getting over Raffo. Sure, she was aroused to the point of no return, because Raffo’s hand was traveling across her belly, leaving a field of goose bumps in its wake, but it wasn’t just infatuation tingling in every one of her nerve endings. When Dylan had seen that card from her son, when she’d gotten the permission she had hoped for, in a flash, Dylan had known.

Raffo was the one.

She could fill a dozen sheets of paper with an endless list of reasons, but the reasons didn’t matter, in the end. The only thing that mattered was how she felt. How her body had told her, as she sat opposite Raffo, that despite everything, despite the glaring obstacle that her own son represented, this was the only way it was meant to be. Despite their age difference and Raffo only being Dylan’s ‘third woman’, they were meant to be together.

Dylan wasn’t so deluded that she believed she and Raffo would magically be together forever—she didn’t have a crystal ball, and life had taught her better than to make such silly, absolute predictions. Yet Dylan knew, in every fiber of her being, that she should be with Raffo now. That Raffo was the one for her now. That she could no longer date—what had Con called them?—mediocre middle-aged men and expect to feel the same way she did when she was with Raffo.

Oh, how Raffo was the one for her. Being with her was like experiencing all over again, as though for the very first time, how utterly breathtaking sex could be.

Right now, Raffo clasped Dylan’s wrists above her head with one hand, while her other reached the apex of her thighs.

Dylan’s clit thumped wildly.

Age melted away as her body responded with the vigor of someone three decades younger. Although she would need lube. There were some things that would always betray her age. But Dylan didn’t want to be younger, and clearly, Raffo didn’t need her to be younger, either.

Raffo gazed down at her with her bottomless, pitch-black eyes. She tugged at her lower lip with her teeth, as though an idea had just occurred to her. Or maybe she was trying to figure out where the lube was—mercifully, it was right there on the nightstand. After their encounter at Connor’s house, Dylan had needed copious amounts of it to quiet her needy body. Instead, Raffo sucked her index finger between her lips, and the sight made Dylan’s clit beat in triple time.

Raffo brought her wet fingertip between Dylan’s legs and, ever so gently—with that soft, tender touch she had—circled it around Dylan’s pulsing clit.

A deep groan escaped Dylan. She’d dreamed of this moment—had actively envisioned it on the backs of her eyelids—countless times. The more profound her desire, and the wilder her fantasies had become, the less chance they’d seemed to have of coming true. But this was very real. Raffo’s body was warm against hers. Her dark gaze was intoxicating and her face only a fraction removed from Dylan’s. Her grip around Dylan’s wrists was far more arousing than the one in her imagination. And that fingertip edging along her clit was about to drive her to utter delirium.

The half a million dollars Dylan had lost seemed like a small price to pay for this—for her dreams coming true. She would never have gone to Big Bear if she hadn’t lost the money. She would never have spent all that time with Raffo. She would never have fallen in love with her. Dylan would give every last penny she possessed for a night like this with Raffo. And she had every intention of turning one night into many.

“Come for me,” Raffo said—instructed, really.

Dylan nearly lost her mind entirely.

Raffo’s finger grew a little more insistent but this wasn’t about the pressure of a finger on Dylan’s clit, it wasn’t even about how her hands were held above her head. It was all about how Raffo looked at her with that glint in her eye that told Dylan everything she needed to know. It was about the two of them in this bed together finally being able to give in to what they’d both wanted. It was only about Dylan’s dreams coming true, because that’s what being with Raffo felt like.

So, of course, Dylan came. She cried out as the orgasm washed over her, as the pleasure took her, as her body surrendered easily and desperately to Raffo’s touch. To all of Raffo.

Dylan believed she must still be dreaming when she opened her eyes because Raffo was lying next to her.

She blinked several times, then trailed a finger along Raffo’s arm to confirm this wasn’t a dream. She was very real. All of this was real. And they were no longer in Big Bear. They were back in real life. Connor knew about them. Dylan would call him later to thank him for his grand gesture because, without it, she might never have given herself permission to do this. Perhaps she and Raffo would have sneaked a desperately illicit kiss at an event some time, but Dylan would never have invited Raffo into her home—into this very bed—without Connor’s approval. The ambivalence of being in love with her son’s best friend hadn’t suddenly disappeared after last night. It was still odd and tricky but, now, it was also possible and something they could all work with instead of something to avoid and most certainly to never speak of again.

“Half a million for your thoughts,” Raffo said, a naughty grin on her lips.

“Half a mil?” Dylan could now even joke about the painful amount of money she’d lost—about the reason she’d had that job interview the day before. She hadn’t given the interview one more thought since she’d clasped eyes on Raffo. “That’s generous.”

“How much for a kiss?” Raffo narrowed her eyes. She looked deliciously sleepy and as though Dylan would have to hug her for at least the next hour.

“A kiss is free.” Dylan scooted closer. She kissed Raffo softly on the lips. “And I was thinking of Connor.”

“Hm.” Raffo sighed. “After a night like that, he’d usually be the first person I’d call. But that’s not the best idea this time around.”

“I don’t really know how to approach him either.” It was an atypical feeling for Dylan, who was always very open with her son about everything and vice versa. “It’s all well and good that he set up our date last night, but where do we go from there?”

“We can theorize all we want, but we won’t know how he really feels until we talk to him.”

Dylan nodded. “Let’s talk to him separately for the first time, though. I wouldn’t want him to feel ganged up on.”

“Ganged up?” Raffo chuckled. “We’re hardly a gang.” She cupped Dylan’s cheek. “Let’s not overthink it. I mean it. Of course we will take his feelings into account, but… let’s enjoy this.” Raffo’s smile was warm and also a little wild. “Last night was amazing and I want many repeat performances.”

“Please keep in mind that my body needs more recovery time than a nimble thirty-two-year-old’s,” Dylan joked.

“You’re already playing the age card with me? After our first night together?” Raffo swept her thumb over Dylan’s cheek.

The loud ring of Dylan’s phone interrupted them. What time was it? Dylan wasn’t used to getting up for work any longer.

She found her phone on the nightstand. The call was from a number she didn’t recognize. She picked up, anyway.

“Mrs. French, Gustavo Pereira from GMX here. I wanted to reach out first thing. We were incredibly impressed yesterday and I’m delighted to offer you the managing director position at our agency.”

Dylan sat up a bit straighter. She should be beside herself, yet she wasn’t. And after last night, she was intimately familiar with what that felt like.

“Thank you so much,” she said, automatic politeness kicking in. “I truly appreciate that. I’m just in the middle of something. Can I get back to you later today?”

“Of course, I look forward to your call and I sincerely hope it will be a yes.”

“Thanks, Gustavo. Talk soon.” Dylan rang off and checked the time on her phone. It was 9:26.

“And?” Raffo’s eyebrows were arched all the way up. She held up her hand. “Let me guess? They’re cray-cray about you and they want you to start tomorrow?”

Dylan could smile now. “The job’s mine if I want it.”

“That’s wonderful news.” Raffo smiled widely. “Although you look as though someone just called to arrange your funeral instead.”

“Argh.” Dylan dramatically fell back onto the bed. “Not to sound petulant, but I don’t want to be managing director at someone else’s agency. The very reason I quit my previous job was to start my own.” But Dylan had royally fucked that up for herself. She turned to Raffo, like she had done in Big Bear when this very subject had come up and Raffo, simply by widening her lips into a smile, could instantly make her feel better.

Raffo didn’t smile and they were no longer in Big Bear. They were no longer hiding from real life.

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” Dylan admitted. “I will take the job, obviously. I’m a fool to think I can have it all.” She put a hand on Raffo’s warm belly. “And I have you now.”

“I want you to consider something.” Raffo shuffled closer until Dylan’s hand was flattened between their bodies. “Don’t protest, okay? Just listen and then think about it.” She actually brought a finger to Dylan’s lips. “I’ve come into some money recently, in large part thanks to your son. And I have half of a house to sell. How about I invest in your new agency?”

Automatically, Dylan shook her head. She tried to open her mouth for the prompt ‘no’ she had at the ready, but Raffo didn’t let her. Instead, she pressed her lips to Dylan’s and then gave her a stern look—she had plenty of those, as well. “Don’t immediately rebut my offer. Think about it for at least twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t have twenty-four hours,” Dylan said. “I need to call Gustavo back today.”

“If they really want you, they’ll wait.”

“Raffo, babe, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t accept your money. That puts too much pressure on?—”

“Do I look like someone who just gives money away willy-nilly?” Raffo interrupted her. “It would be an investment on which I expect a return. You spoke so passionately about the agency you want to start. I fully believe you can turn it into a success.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I will know what it feels like to make a bad investment.” Raffo grinned. “I might have to hide away from the world in the house in Big Bear you would still own and would have to let me stay at.” Raffo peered into her eyes. “All jokes aside, you have forty years of experience in advertising. I wouldn’t offer you this money to invest in some obscure internet coin. I’m offering it to you as an investment in your new company, in you, and in your happiness, which means a lot to me.”

“In that case.” Dylan maneuvered herself on top of Raffo. “I’ll think about it for the allocated twenty-four hours and by thinking, I mean doing this.” Dylan peppered kisses all over Raffo’s neck until her entire body shook with laughter beneath her.