Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
AUbrEY
The ma?tre d’ leads us through the dining room, and I swear every step feels more surreal than the last.
Crystal chandeliers sparkle overhead. Fresh flowers spill from enormous arrangements that probably cost more than my first apartment’s rent. Every table is draped in crisp white linen, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many wineglasses set in front of one person.
I lean toward Dean as we’re seated in a secluded corner. “I’m afraid to touch anything.”
He chuckles as he pulls my chair out. “It’s just dinner.”
I lower my voice. “No, it’s not.”
He smiles knowingly. “It kind of is.”
A server appears almost instantly, unfolding my napkin across my lap before I can protest. The second he’s gone, I look at Dean.
“I don’t even know which fork I’m supposed to use.”
“The outside one.”
I swallow through my nerves. “You say that like it’s obvious.”
“It is after you’ve accidentally used the wrong one a few times.”
My head leans to the side. “You’ve used the wrong fork?”
He laughs. “I wasn’t born knowing any of this. You know this. We were neighbors.”
I study him for a second. It’s easy to forget that before Dean became New York’s billionaire golden boy, he was just … Dean.
I feel my stomach settle slightly. “I like hearing that.”
His eyebrows turn up. “Why?”
“It reminds me you’re human.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I was beginning to think my reputation had gotten out of hand.”
“You mean the whole Most Eligible Bachelor in New York thing?”
He groans. “I hate that title.”
“You do?” I ask, slightly surprised.
“It’s embarrassing.”
I didn’t realize that he could possibly not like the attention he received from being so rich, powerful, and equally handsome.
Dinner arrives, and somewhere between the appetizers and our entrées, the conversation drifts toward high school.
Dean swirls the wine in his glass. “So”—his eyes lift to mine— “what was fifteen-year-old Aubrey like? Apart from the one I occasionally saw around the neighborhood.”
I laugh. “Awkward.”
He smiles. “You survived. We all survive those awkward years.”
“Barely.” I take another sip of wine before looking down at my plate. “Can I admit something?”
“Always.”
I hesitate just long enough to make him curious. “I had the biggest crush on you.”
I risk looking up to find that he’s staring at me.
“You did?”
I laugh nervously. “You seriously didn’t know?”
“I knew you were Noah’s little sister. But”—he shakes his head— “I had no idea.”
I cover my face for a second. “Oh my gosh.”
He leans closer. “What?”
I place my hands back in my lap, unable to make eye contact. “That’s somehow more embarrassing.”
“I don’t think it’s embarrassing.”
“It is when the guy had absolutely no clue.”
His grin slowly spreads. “I have to admit …”
“What?” I ask curiously.
He leans back in his chair. “That’s … oddly flattering.”
I blink. “It is?”
He nods. “You liked me before any of this.” He gestures vaguely around the restaurant. “The companies. The money. The magazines. You didn’t know any of that version of me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You just”—his smile softens— “liked me.”
I shrug, suddenly feeling fifteen all over again. “I thought you were handsome.”
He laughs. “That’s generous.”
“And kind,” I continue.
“I also thought you were really nice,” he admits.
My shoulders fall. “I barely spoke to you.”
He tilts his head. “I know.”
“So, how did you know I was nice?”
He shrugs. “You’d ask Noah how school was. You would help your parents around the house.”
“You’d carry groceries for Mrs. Jenkins without anyone asking,” I tell him. I smile to myself. “I noticed.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, very quietly, “I’m glad you did.”
An hour later, we’re standing on the rooftop terrace overlooking Manhattan.
The skyline glitters beneath the summer night, the city somehow feeling quieter from this high above the streets.
Dean disappears to the restroom while I wait near the bar.
I order sparkling water and lean against the railing, taking in the view.
“It’s even prettier from up here.”
I glance over. A man about my age smiles warmly.
“It is,” I admit.
“You from New York?”
I nod my head.
He extends his hand. “I’m Evan.”
Before I can answer, another voice cuts in, “You ready to go, baby?”
My heart immediately recognizes it.
Dean.
He steps beside me, one hand settling lightly against the small of my back.
Evan glances between us. “Oh.”
Dean smiles politely. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“I was actually just leaving.”
Evan offers me one last smile before disappearing back into the crowd.
I look up at Dean. “You were gone for two minutes.”
“So it would seem.” His tone is calm, but there’s something mixed with it.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” He flags down the bartender. “Can we get the check?”
I blink. “We’re leaving?”
“I think we’ve had a nice night.”
There’s something different in his voice. It’s not angry, but something tighter.
The bartender hands him the bill. Dean signs it without even looking at the total before pulling out his phone.
“My driver’s downstairs.”
“You already called him?”
He nods. “I just texted him.”
I slip my hand into his as we walk toward the elevator. The entire ride downstairs, he’s unusually quiet.
The car is already waiting at the curb.
The moment we’re inside, Dean presses the privacy partition button. The glass rises smoothly between us and the driver.
I turn toward him. “Dean—”
Before I can finish, he cups my face and kisses me. It’s the kind of kiss that feels like he’s reassuring himself I’m really there.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“I didn’t like him looking at you.”
He pulls me off my seat and positions me on his lap. I have to pull my dress up to spread my thighs that far.
Without a second thought, he grabs the straps of my dress and pulls them down until my breasts pop out.
A deep, guttural growl escapes from his throat. “Mine.”
He leans forward and sucks a nipple into his mouth. My head falls back immediately.
“Oh God,” I moan at the rush of sensations.
He pulls back and looks up at me. “You’re mine, Aubrey.” His eyes search mine for a beat. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”
I move my hips back and forth on top of him, feeling his length hardening underneath me. “I’m yours.”
I’ve never spoken truer words. I’ve always been his.
He puts his hand on his belt and fumbles around until his dick is free. Then he reaches under my dress and pulls the fabric of my panties until they tear.
“Now ride my cock.” His fingers grip my hips hard enough that I know they’ll leave a bruise. “Show me that you’re mine.”
Hearing him desperately needing me to prove that I’m his has my heart beating out of my chest. I slide down his dick, and we both freeze for a moment in time, adjusting to the feeling.
He is so thick and long that even though it’s been weeks of having sex, I still have to adjust every time.
I start to ride him hard and fast. Our lips find each other’s, but we don’t kiss. We just breathe in the same air as our bodies come together.
The lights of Manhattan pass us by, but all I can do is feel him inside of me.
I start to feel my orgasm working its way out as all the nerve endings in one area feel like they burst and spread throughout my entire body.
“Yes,” Dean groans into my mouth. “Come all over my cock. Make me come inside your tight pussy.”
His words make my orgasm feel like it multiplies in intensity. Then I feel his dick begin to move inside of me as he pumps his release.
My body falls on top of his as every single muscle of mine seems to relax like I just got a three-hour massage.
I know I told him that we just needed to keep this casual and not overthink it, but I was wrong.
There is nothing casual about this.
I am completely and hopelessly in love with this man and his little girl.
Warning bells try to sound in my head, but I push them away.
Because I want this moment. I want all the moments I can have with Dean, whether or not they will eventually break me.