I’ve always followed it to avoid complications, but Dylan is different. There’s an energy about her, magnetic and intoxicating, that threatens to override my better judgment. Plus, I’ve never had this temptation of a woman like her living under the same roof.
Not that I’ve ever met anyone close to a woman like her.
The late afternoon sun dips lower in the sky, shadows lengthening across the road. I know I should resist this temptation and maintain professional boundaries, but I can’t stop replaying that fleeting moment in the store. Her startled gasp as our bodies collided, the softness of her curves molding against me, the apple scent of her shampoo—every detail is seared into my memory.
By the time I pull into the driveway, the sun has nearly set, but its golden glow still filters through the windows. I sit in the car watching shadows dance across the interior, buying time before I have to face the source of my distraction.
With a sigh, I turn off the engine and step outside. The apartment is dark and silent, but I know she’s in there. Waiting. And despite my best intentions, I can feel my resolve crumbling with each step towards the door. This is going to be complicated.
I pause outside the apartment door, steeling myself. When I finally turn the key in the lock, the hinges creak ominously.
Dylan glances up from the sofa, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before it smooths into a smile. “Hey, you’re back.”
My heartbeat kicks up a notch at the sight of her. She’s wearing a tank top and sweatpants, her hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, but she still manages to look casually gorgeous.
I swallow hard, torn between bolting for the safety of my room and crossing the space between us to see if she tastes as sweet as she smells.
“I, uh...” Words fail me as I struggle for composure. She arches a brow, and I clear my throat. “How was the rest of your day?”
“Uneventful.” Dylan shrugs, a wry twist to her mouth. “Yours?”
“Same.” I shrug, too aware of her gaze tracking my every movement. The weight of her attention is a physical thing, and I shift restlessly.
Silence falls as we study each other, both aware of the current of attraction flowing between us.
I know I should say something, do something to dispel the tension, but I’m paralyzed.
“So, about what happened at the store...” Dylan finally says.
My heart leaps, and I brace myself for the rejection I’m sure is coming. She’s going to tell me it was a mistake, that we should forget it ever happened.
I open my mouth, unsure of how I’ll respond, when she continues.
“Do you want to maybe pick up where we left off?”
I stare at her, stunned into silence. Did she really just...?
Dylan laughs, a throaty sound that sends heat flooding through my veins. She unfolds from the sofa and prowls across the room, stopping just inside my personal space.
“Well?” She tips her head back to meet my gaze, eyes glinting with challenge and something more intimate. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Dylan, I...”
What am I going to say? That I want her, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but I have rules against this sort of thing? That she’s already disrupting my carefully ordered world, and if we start something, there’ll be no going back?
One look at her face, open and vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen, and all my reservations crumble into dust.
Who am I kidding? There’s no resisting this woman. She’s gotten under my skin, awakened something primal I can’t ignore. Not anymore.
“Oh, to hell with it,” I mutter, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her flush against me.
Dylan’s answering grin is triumphant. “That’s more like it.”
And then her mouth is on mine, and I’m lost.
The kiss is hungry and deep, weeks of pent-up desire unleashed in the slick slide of lips and tongues. Dylan kisses like she does everything else: with single-minded intensity and razor-sharp focus.
I groan into her mouth, my hands roaming over the sweet curve of her ass and the strong planes of her back.