22. Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
DYLAN
F eeling the bath water, I nearly burned a layer of skin off my fingers.
“Damn, that’s hot.”
I leaned over the side of the tub and turned off the facet. The water was scalding hot, too hot to get into straight away.
It was early evening and I was eager to sink into the warm bubble bath and relax. I had it all sorted; low mood lighting, a glass of red and I had placed my kindle and vibrator on the table next to the bath.
The plan was to read some smut and have some fun.
Perfect night in.
I was desperate for some self pleasure after this afternoon's escapade in the pool. What a joyous fluke that was.
Being that intimate with Brax, touching him and seeing his body again up close… abs on abs, rock hard pecs, arms so cut with muscles that I never knew existed. His entire body was toned and carved to perfection underneath all of that glorious ink.
I shuffled out of the bathroom wearing the hotel’s white fluffy robe. Dialing #9 for room service, I ordered a club sandwich.
Syncing my phone up to the speakers, I scrolled through my playlists. I was in the mood for something romantic and borderline depressing.
Lana Del Ray.
But what album? Ultraviolence? Norman Fucking Rockwell? Yes. Norman Fucking Rockwell.
I pressed play and strolled back into the steamy bathroom. I shrugged the robe off and slowly dipped one leg into the massive standalone tub.
Before I could place my other leg in, there was a knock on the door.
Room service already?
Shrugging the heavy bathrobe back on, I rushed out of the bathroom and, not bothering to check the peephole, opened the door. I had to blink twice to make sure I was seeing right and not hallucinating.
It was Brax.
“Brax!” I exclaimed, ducking my head outside of my room. I darted my eyes down the hallway to see if anyone else was there. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
My mouth hung open, but I didn't answer him.
Without waiting for permission, he pushed the door open wide, and entered. He was wearing blue jeans, a plain white shirt and backwards hat.
He glanced into the steamy bathroom and clocked the bubble bath.
And the tunes.
I prayed he didn't notice the vibrator.
Goddamn, man-child / You fucked me so good that I almost said I love you… Lana crooned.
“A bubble bath and Lana Del Ray?” Brax looked at me with his eyebrows raised, judging me for my choice in music. “And is that a vibrator?”
Horrified, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Shut up!”
I walked past him into the living area, anything to get away from the pink vibrator.
I wasn't sure why I felt embarrassed. I literally fucked myself on camera for this man less than 24 hours ago.
Brax leaned against the work desk, taking off his hat and fiddling with it, before putting it back on backwards again.
Facing him, I leaned against the back of the lounge.
Something was up.
I folded my arms across my chest, the fabric almost swallowing me. “Brax, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He wanted to say something. It was like he was fighting himself internally… debating whether or not to speak.
Obviously this wasn’t going to be anything good.
“Listen, I came to say that there’s a lot of…” he paused, searching for the right words. “Stuff that I need to sort out at home.”
“Yeah. You and I both.”
This was nothing new. I was confused. Why had he rushed in here to tell me things I already knew? “And?’
“And I don’t want you to get in trouble, or put yourself in a position where your job is on the line…”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would you think my job is on the line?”
“There’s just been a few conversations that have made me worried.”
“With who?” I demanded. “Why are you being so cryptic?”
“I don’t trust, or like, that Steven guy for starters.”
It took me a second to register what Brax was saying. This dramatic entrance was about Steven?
“Steven?!” I said in disbelief. “You don’t need to worry about him.”
Brax looked at me, apprehension lacing those dangerous eyes of his.
“Brax, did he say something to you?”
"Yeah," Brax crossed his arms and sighed. “On site this morning. I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but I've given it some thought and I think it's best that you know. He insinuated that if he finds out there is something going on between us,” Brax took a deep breath in before he continued. “That you could lose your job.”
I was dumbfounded. My head felt like it was going to explode. I raised my hands to the side of my head, massaging my temples.
“That’s bullshit,” I spat, starting to feel anger roar through my veins.
I fucking hated Steven.
Ever since I denied his advances a year ago, he had been relentless in his pursuit to constantly harass me. They only reason why I hadn't escalated it to Marie was because he was leaving. Soon, I wouldn't have to deal with that motherfucker anymore.
“He’s nothing but a jealous asshole, who harbors resentment because I wouldn’t date him. He likes to find ways to annoy me.”
“Sounds like he’s fucking obsessed with you, Dylan.”
“Fuck him!” My words came out hard, but I softened when I caught Brax's stare. I needed him to understand just how much I didn’t give a fuck about Steven and his empty threats.
He couldn’t do shit anyway—he wasn’t my boss.
But he could cause me a giant headache in the workplace. But to not to the point where I would lose my job… right?
I honestly didn’t know the answer. Surely two consenting adults weren't cause to be fired.
Yeah, two consenting adults was fine; two consenting adults committing adultery however… not a good look for the brand.
Despite my tough exterior, I was beginning to feel a little nervous.
“Am I supposed to be attempting to read your mind, or…” Brax asked.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Sorry. I appreciate your concern, but I’m not worried.”
I didn't want him to walk away from whatever this was. Not when it was just about to get so good.
Brax readjusted his snapback again, before placing it back on his head backwards. “I guess I need to know if this is a fling for you, or if it’s something… more.”
Oh my god, wasn’t it obvious?!
I wanted to scream in his face that it was so much more, more, more for me. But I wasn’t about to show my hand that easily.
I remained silent as Brax continued.
“I don't want you to you blow your life up for something that’s just a bit of… fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah.”
My face twisted in fury. “Is that was this is?" I stammered awkwardly. I was hurt. "It's just… fun for you?”
“Dylan, I–”
I turned my back to him. “Just leave Brax.”
For a few moments, Lana Del Ray’s voice was the only sound in the room.
Cause you’re just a man / It’s just what you do…
“Dylan, this is more than fun for me. It came out wrong. I–If we’re doing this... I want you to know that I’m all in.”
A second ago I was worried that my heart was going to beat through my ribcage.
Now, I worried that it had stopped.
I turned to face him. Mere seconds ago, his eyes were awash with concern and worry.
But not anymore. Now they burned with lust.
“The thought of going back to Grey’s, to my shitty life without you…” he shook his head. He abandoned the rest of the sentence. “I can’t think straight. I’ve been fucked up since I saw you. Every feeling I’ve ever had about you is… amplified now. And it’s not just physical. I mean, it’s very physical—I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my entire life…”
Entire life? My ego loved that. I fiddled with my earring, nervous energy coursing through my body.
“But it’s you. Every part of you. You’re wild and unpredictable, smart and ambitious, all of which is sexy as hell,” his voice matched his eyes; dark and deadly. “I’m still so into you.”
There were so many things I wanted to say to him. Like how whatever this was between us was so much more than just fun for me, too.
This felt like a second chance.
It was written all over my face, but my brain didn’t seem to connect to my mouth. I feared I’d become a mute. A lust-crazed mute who wasn't sure if her heart was beating too fast, or at all.
All I could do was take deep, controlled breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth.
“I know what we’re doing is wrong," Brax said softly. "But you make it hard to breathe.”
I nodded my head in agreement. “I feel it too.”
My throat was constricted as I realized I was holding my breath. The lightheadedness I was experiencing made me take a sharp breath in.
He took a small step towards me.
His scent hit me then. Leather and sandalwood traveled up into my nose and engulfed my brain, setting alight every possible sexual sensor in my body.
My body began to burn with pure veracity.
He took another step towards me, testing how far he could go.
I dropped my arms so they dangled beside my body.
Another step.
I raised my eyes to him. I was drowning in his stare, letting the waves suck me under further and further.
Take me here and now, I telepathically screamed.
He was so close to me that we shared the same breath.
“I want every part of you,” he whispered into my mouth. “Right fucking now.”
I whispered back something stupid like, “We shouldn’t be doing this,” knowing full well we most certainly would be doing this.
I inhaled him and closed my eyes.
He kissed me, gently, softly at first. Then deeply.
I returned volley. It felt like slow motion.
Lana was screaming “fuck it I love you” and I dropped dead. His tongue was down my throat and my hips were automatically grinding against his as he wrapped his arms around me. We kissed each other more passionately, ferociously, as we gave in to what our bodies had been craving since the second we laid eyes on one another.
We came up for air, panting, and rested our foreheads on each other.
I was cemented to the floor, my head spinning from the lack of oxygen, yet feeling more alive than ever, which was baffling because I was dead .
“Dylan, open your eyes.”
He swallowed hard, his fingers grazing the opening of my robe, his hands lightly tracing the skin on my stomach and around my waist.
“You want to do this?” he growled, chest heaving.
“What?”
“Fuck.”
Easiest request I’d ever had.