Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Dylan
The world within Manhattan is its own beast. You learn that when you live here. When you claw your way around this city looking for something elusive.
For some, that’s a job that will keep a roof over their heads.
For others, it’s a relationship that will stand the test of time and weather the winds of change.
I have the first and no interest in the second.
My needle in the haystack is a particular type of woman.
I don’t bother with blondes.
My cock has zero interest in redheads.
For me, it’s all about the type of woman I see in front of me now.
Light brown hair, blue eyes, and a petite body that can move to the beat of the music.
Experience has taught me that if a woman can dance, she can fuck.
The woman I’m watching now is graceful, beautiful, and within the hour will be in my bed.
I slide off the bar stool and approach her.
“I’m Dylan.”
She taps her ear. “What was that?”
I lean in closer. “I’m Dylan, and you are?”
“Dancing.” She breathes on a small laugh.
“You’ve been watching me.” I stand in place while the patrons of this club dance around me, brushing against my expensive, imported suit.
She spins before she slows. “I could say the same for you.”
I look down at her face.
Jesus, she’s striking. Her eyes are a shade of blue, that particular shade of blue that always takes my breath away.
“We’re leaving together tonight.”
That cocks one of her perfectly arched brows. “You’re assuming that I’m not here with someone.”
“You’re here alone.” I spin when she does to catch her gaze again.
The skirt of her knee-length black dress picks up with the motion revealing a brief flash of her thighs. “Maybe I like being alone.”
“Not tonight.” I reach for her hand.
She slows before she slides her palm against mine. “Dance with me, Dylan.”
I breathe out on a heavy sigh. I haven’t heard those four words in years. I haven’t danced in as long.
I tug her close to me, sliding my free hand down her back. “What’s your name?”
“Does it matter?” She looks up at me.
It never does.
I dance her closer to an alcove, a spot where the crowd is thin and the music quieter.
Her body follows mine instinctively, our shared movements drawing the admiring glances of others.
She’s letting me lead now, but the sureness of her steps promises aggression in bed.
“We’re wasting time.”
Her lips curve up into a smile. “Foreplay comes in many forms.”
“Is that what this is?” I laugh. “I want to fuck you.”
She presses her body against me. “You will.”
My cock swells with those words. “Now.”
“Patience, Dylan.” Her lips brush my jawline. “I promise this will be a night you’ll never forget.”
I move to kiss her, but she pulls back, a burst of laughter escaping her.
She’s a tease.
I shouldn’t find that as alluring as I do. I’ve walked away from teases before without a glance back, but this woman is intoxicating.
Everything from the sweet scent of her skin to the sound of her voice has me captivated.
I splay my hand over the soft curve at the top of her ass, bringing her even closer. I want her to feel me. I want her to know that I’m hard as stone for her. “Come home with me.”
“Home?” She pouts her lips. “I pegged you for the hotel room type.”
I study her face. I see something in it that I always look for when I’m ready to take a woman to bed.
It’s a flash of familiarity. It may be the curve of a chin or the shape of an eyebrow. This woman has it all.
She’s beautiful.
“Hotel rooms are impersonal.” I dish out my standard line. “Everything I need is at my apartment.”
“You’re not going to kidnap me and demand a ransom, are you?” The corner of her mouth twitches in an almost grin.
My cock pulses with each of her subtle movements. We’re still dancing. Our rhythm has slowed, but her hips are still in motion, brushing the front of her dress against me.
“Who would I call for the ransom?” I bring her left hand to my mouth, sliding my lips over her bare ring finger. “You’re not married, are you?”
Her eyes widen. “I’m not married.”
I’m grateful. The need to be inside of her is consuming me.
I have the will to walk away if there’s a man waiting somewhere for her, but she’s telling the truth.
The years I’ve spent inside courtrooms have trained me to read people. Sharing my bed with countless women in the past has afforded me the benefit of recognizing guilt in the eyes of someone who has a vested interested in another man.
I’ve sent women home that have been out prowling the bars of New York City looking for a quick thrill while their husbands are tucking their children into bed.
Revenge sex isn’t an interest of mine. I won’t be the man that gets you over the inferior son-of-a-bitch that fucked his way into someone else.
If a man cheats on his woman, I want no part of her plan to get even.
I like my sex raw, satisfying, and drama free. I need it to be safe in every possible way.
A good fuck is complicated if hearts are involved.
A barrier of bitterness and regret surrounds mine.
I see no reason to change.
The beauty in my arms stills as the music winds down.
“Promise that you won’t try and keep me,” she whispers as she looks up at me.
That’s a promise I’ll gladly keep. “You have my word. One night is all I want.”