23. Chapter 23 Planet Dylan #2
His fingers barely graze my forehead, but it’s enough to send a full-body shiver through me. “Her voice was good. She just needed a little push, like I think you do sometimes.”
He’s not wrong. I wish Jacob would push me. To open up, to talk about my past, my nightmares, our fractured relationship.
“I have these dreams… and nightmares. For years,” I say, my voice shaky as his hand hovers. Heat seeps into my skin before he finally pulls away. It’s the lightest touch, but it leaves me burning. When I open my eyes, he’s just watching me.
“Go on,” he urges, his gaze unwavering.
My pulse pounds. I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how close he is—how his leg is brushed against mine. How my heart wants to jump out of my chest.
I look out toward the bridge in the distance as if it’s part of my dream.
“I’m walking across this long bridge,” I murmur.
“Below, the water is crystal clear. I can see the other side—a place so beautiful, so magnificent. I try to reach it, but then…” My voice falters.
“Shadows swirl around me. Birds circle overhead. It’s this strange mix of fear and peace I can’t explain.
” A breath catches in my throat. “And just when I think I’ll make it to the end, I fall.
The water turns ice cold, swallowing me whole. Until I wake up in a sweaty panic.”
He listens closely. Making me feel like my words matter. Like I matter.
“I wonder what it means,” he says after a moment of silence. “My grandmother believes dreams are portals to another world, a place we can only reach when the noise of this one fades away.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “If that’s true, then I must’ve fucked up pretty badly in another lifetime. Because sometimes it feels like I’m being punished, in my dreams… and in life.”
Dylan stays quiet, waiting.
I sigh slowly. “What if the dream is my subconscious showing me there’s this beautiful life waiting for me, but something keeps me stuck?
I always feel stuck. Stuck with the pain of my childhood.
Stuck with the trauma and abuse I let happen for so many years.
Frozen, unsure of what to do with my life, my career… my marriage.”
The words tumble out as if I’ve been holding my breath for years and am only now exhaling.
“Nothing is ever enough. I’m not enough.
My marriage, my career, it’s all just… fine.
But maybe I don’t want fine.” My voice cracks.
“Maybe I want something more. Maybe I’m trying so damn hard to reach the end of that bridge because I need to believe there’s something worth reaching for. ”
Dylan grips my bare thigh, grounding me, unfreezing me. And I melt under his touch, under his stare.
“So stop,” he says, firm but gentle. “Let it go. Stop trying to reach the end of that fucking bridge. What if the place you’re chasing doesn’t even exist? What if you stopped in the middle and built something you love right there?”
His hand loosens, fingers tracing light circles against my skin. And all I can think about is how I want that hand to slide higher.
“You don’t deserve fine ,” he murmurs, his words sinking deep. “You should have the best.”
I swallow hard, my pulse hammering.
“You need to shut out the noise in your head,” he continues. “Close your eyes. Imagine the world you want to live in.”
He places a hand over my eyes again. His other hand finds mine and presses it against my chest, just above my heart. I shiver with his touch, exposed in ways I haven’t felt in years. Reluctantly, I let my eyes fall shut.
Images flood my mind. My children laughing. My wedding day. My father working in the fields. Then I flinch when I see Ryan towering over me.
A tear slips before I can stop it. “I can’t let go of my past. I don’t know how.”
Dylan’s thumb brushes the tear away. “The dreams are not only about the bridge,” I admit, my breath catching. “They get darker, more terrifying, and—”
“It’s okay,” he says, his forehead pressing against mine.
But it’s too close. Too much. Too intense.
I straighten up, pulling back slightly, needing space. “Your turn.” My voice is unsteady.
He exhales sharply. “No. You don’t get to run because it’s hard to say.”
But I do like running. A heavy silence hangs between us, just as Dylan’s phone vibrates. He glances down at it. “We’re not done,” he mutters, stepping outside to take the call.
I catch snippets. Something about a party and his sisters. When he jumps back in, his excitement is palpable. “Ready to get to the other side of the bridge?”
“And how would I do that?” I ask, confused.
“You have another job for Jenna’s Dream Events waiting. My sister Gabriella’s wedding... and her baby shower!” He grins. “She’s pregnant. Good ol’ shotgun wedding.”
I raise my brow, a small smile tugging. “Did you just name my business, give me another event to plan, walk me to the end of my scary bridge, and make me a damn picnic all in one day? Are you trying to get me to fall for you, Mr. Hayes?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Dylan throws his head back, laughing that same loud, ridiculous laugh from the first time we met.
It really does sound like an extinct bird calling out into the wild—absurd, but somehow endearing.
I try to glare at him, but it’s useless.
His laugh is infectious, wrapping me around him and pulling me in close.
Fuck. Am I falling in love? Can I even be in love with two people?
“Why are you laughing so maniacally?” I giggle and cover my face with the blanket, sending grapes and Cheetos sliding off it.
“Is that even a word?” He leans in, brow furrowed as he wipes the dust from the chips off my legs. “Maybe because I forgot to mention the most important part. She needs the wedding planned in, oh… about a week.”
The blanket drops, along with my stomach. “A week? That’s impossible.”
“You got this! At least her expectations are already low, right? No pressure.” His grin widens. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep my extinct bird in a cage next time. Wouldn’t want you mocking me again.”
Of course, he remembers. He remembers everything I say.
“Shit, okay. One week.” I smile, shaking my head. I don’t know how he does it. But, somehow, he makes me feel like I can do anything. Like I can believe in myself.
God, I feel so exposed. Vulnerable. Risking everything I’ve built for a man who isn’t mine.
Dylan lies back. “So,” he says, reaching for my hand and pressing it to his chest.
I hesitate for a second, then lie down beside him.
My body turned toward him. “So,” I echo, barely breathing, as I feel his heartbeat pounding under my shaky palm.
I trace the hard lines of his chest, and for a moment, everything fades.
There’s no noise, no chaos, no looming bridges to cross.
Just Dylan, soaking in the sunshine, and the slow burn between us.
Kiss me. Touch me. What the hell are you waiting for?
His hand slides to my thigh. I part my legs slightly, inviting him where he doesn’t belong. But he doesn’t move higher. Not yet. Instead, his finger grazes my bottom lip, gliding back and forth. Then with his other hand, he grips my thigh tighter.
“You are…” His voice is low as he drags his hand down my neck. “So fucking…” His fingers drift across my chest in torturous, light strokes. “Beautiful.”
He pauses just above the curve of my breast, hovering. Not touching. Just teasing, and close enough to drive me insane.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper, every nerve in my body screaming for him.
“Don’t… stop… what?” he murmurs, tracing circles around my breast. “Tell me. Exactly. What. You. Want.” His thumb strokes my lip again, daring me.
I flick my tongue over his thick finger, tasting, teasing, then wrap my lips around it, sucking slow and deep. Craving more of him. All of him. Watching his control falter.
“You. I want you, Dylan,” I breathe, our lips hovering inches apart.
“Jesus, Jenna… you drive me crazy,” he growls, gripping my hips. His erection presses against me, hard, unrelenting, begging for release as he guides me onto his lap until I’m straddling him.
“Hearing you say my name… fuck,” he whispers, his breath ragged. I tilt my head until our foreheads touch, hearts pounding between us. “I want you so fucking bad. My heart aches almost as much as my cock’s throbbing to be buried inside you. I need you. Your body. Your heart. All of you—right now.”
I don’t have words to match his. Just this need. I let the straps of my sweater dress slide down my arms, revealing my white lace bralette.
He freezes, eyes focused on me.
I hesitate, the gravity of everything catching up to me. Then his gaze meets mine, blazing with urgency and something deeper.
My resolve melts. I lean into him, and our mouths meet. His tongue glides against mine, his moans igniting every deep desire inside me. He holds nothing back when he touches me, greedy and eager.
He yanks off his shirt, revealing abs and a chest carved by sin. Every ridge, every line begging to be licked and touched. His hand comes back to my hips, gripping on to me as I grind against his thick, throbbing cock.
His fingers toy with the strap of my bra, his eyes starving for me. “I’ve been dreaming about tasting these since the moment I saw you.”
I unclasp my bra, and the way he stares at me is everything. “Dylan, fuck—” He flicks my nipples with his tongue, his rough, calloused hands claiming me. I moan in his ear, my panties soaked with want.
“Say my name again.” His voice is thick with need. “Tell me how bad you want my cock stretching you, filling you.”
“Yes,” I cry out. “I want you, Dylan. I’ve never wanted anything this much.”
In one swift motion, he lays me back and rips my thong off like it’s his only chance to have me. His lips trail down my stomach, fingers teasing, stroking with feather-light touches that ruin me.
And then, he’s there, ready to satisfy every craving I’ve ever had of him. Shit. This is happening. Dylan between my thighs. My mind spins.
“You okay?” he asks, like he can hear what I’m thinking.
“Yeah. I just can’t believe I’m here… with you.”
He kisses me between each word, each touch unraveling me. “I… fucking love… that… you’re here. Now open your legs for me, Jenna,” he grunts.
I obey, trembling beneath his command.
His tongue glides through me—slow, deliberate, mapping every sensitive inch. Learning exactly what makes me beg. Each stroke wrecks me. Drenches me. Makes me ache.
He’s relentless in the way his tongue swirls, pushing deeper, teasing me in places I didn’t even know could throb with this kind of need.
“Yes, Dylan. Don’t stop. Please.” My back arches, giving him full control as he drags the wetness lower, spreading it over my ass.
“Goddamn. You’re so tight.” He groans, pressing one finger inside. Then another. His tongue stays locked on my clit, working me, driving me wild.
“Deeper,” I pant. “God, I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” I could come just from the sound of his growls, the sound of him losing control.
He pulls back and reaches into his pocket, grabbing a small foil packet. “Got tested this month,” he says, low like he’s sharing a secret. “Haven’t been with anyone since.”
I nod, breathless.
He lowers his pants, then his briefs. And there it is—thick, curved, and so fucking big, I forget how to breathe. He tears open the foil and rolls the condom on, his hands shaking. Then glides the head of his cock over my clit in torturous, slow circles, until I’m squirming, begging for more.
“I want you to feel every inch of me,” he murmurs, dragging the tip down to my ass, circling my hole. He pushes just enough to make me whimper. Then he slides into my pussy slow and deep, stretching me wide open.
Buried inside me, he stills, his eyes locked on mine as he watches me unravel beneath him.
“Fuck,” I gasp, my hands digging into his back.
He moves, each thrust stealing my breath. “You feel so damn good. So fucking unreal.” His voice is raw, his breath hot against my neck.
He fucks me deep and rough, like he owns me. His fingers slide into my ass as his cock slams into me. His body was designed to ruin mine. No matter how he takes me, it feels incredible.
“You like when I fill both your holes, beautiful,” he groans, his thrusts growing more demanding. “When I use your cum to make your ass wet for me.”
Then he flips me back on top of him. “I need you to feel how fucking bad I want you,” he says, holding my hips tightly.
Every touch, every look is pulling me to the edge. “I want you, Dylan,” I cry out, nails digging into his back. “I need you… I…”
“Come for me, beautiful,” he breathes into my ear, his voice thick with possession. “Soak my cock. Give me everything. Every last drop.”
I straddle him, riding him harder. His hands grip my ass and guide every motion, until I’m shaking, ready to let go.
“Fuck yes. You look so fucking good riding my cock.” He grits, his gaze glued to me. “Touch yourself for me. Rub that pretty pussy while I’m deep inside you.”
I moan, fingers moving over my clit. “Right there… Dylan,” I whimper. “Holy fuck. Yes. Right. Fucking. There.”
Pleasure rips through me—all-consuming. It steals every ounce of air from my lungs as we break apart and shatter together.
For a moment, there’s nothing else, no world, no consequences. Just a stolen piece of heaven. A free-fall into a universe where only Dylan exists. And I want to stay lost in it forever.
Still trembling, an uncontrollable laugh escapes me, like it does every time my body releases pure bliss. A weird aftershock of hormones I never know how to explain. Dylan watches me, trying to figure me out as his hands let me go, and I roll over beside him.
The warmth of his touch quickly fades, and the weight of my choices crashes in.
Why does something this perfect, this undeniably right—feel so devastatingly wrong?
And that line I thought I’d never cross? I didn’t step over it. I ran, blasting it open with a fucking torpedo.