Page 63 of Burn It Down

My body fights, needing air, and drool spills out the side of my mouth as ten seconds turn to fifteen and his hand is still holding me to him.

I tap his thigh, letting him know I need to breathe and finally, he releases the pressure on the back of my head. I’m gasping for breath on my kitchen floor, a string of saliva still connecting my mouth to his cock when he leans down and says, “I don’t know where the hell you learned how to do that, but we’re going to pretend it started with this blowjob.”

I wipe my mouth with my hand and nod. I don’t know what it says about me, but I like that Dylan’s just a little jealous.

He nods his head toward the corner, reminding me I need to make sure I stand up behind the wall, out of sight of the living room.

“Guess I can’t stop touching you either,” he whispers once I join him at the sink, grabbing the already clean pan from his hand, and begin drying it.

Goodbye heart.

Dylan and I finish pretending to do the dishes and join the girls about fifteen minutes into the movie. Cora’s got her legs tucked under her and she’s leaning on the arm of the couch, fingers furiously flying across her phone screen, typing out an email. I pat her foot and sit down next to her. She throws me a smile before turning her attention to the T.V., and making her phone screen dark.

Meanwhile, when Dylan sits down on the opposite end of the couch from Whitney, she immediately moves closer. It isn’t long before the blanket covering her legs begins to creep across his lap too.

Overall, it takes about thirty minutes for it to get there, but eventually, her hand must land in his lap because he springs off the couch.

“I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back. Does anyone need anything?”

“All good,” I reply, deciding it’s bestnotto comment on how badly I need to get off.

“Same,” Whitney says, although if I’m not mistaken, there’s a bit of a huff in her tone.

Dylan pads down the hallway and I want to tell Whitney to back off, but I don’t think outing Dylan will solve my problems. When Dylan returns a few minutes later, he makes an excuse to get out of staying for the rest of the movie and says goodbye.

“Do you want us to pause it while you walk him out?” Cora asks, ever aware of her manners.

“No, you guys go ahead. I won’t be long.”

I grab Dylan’s biceps and turn him toward the penthouse elevator when I hear Whitney pout. “I just don’t think it’s going to work out, Cor.”

I guess I know what they were whispering about so vehemently. Cora hates failing and I can imagine her encouraging Whitney to try harder with Dylan.

A week later, I’m in the middle of my meeting with Cora’s father, going over his financial portfolio and discussing the not-great reality of his proposed business venture, when Peggy’s voice buzzes through the intercom on my office phone.

“Mr. Ellington?”

“I’m with Governor Cosey at the moment, Peggy, can it wait?”

“You tell me, sir. A Mr. Dylan Ryder is here. Says he has your car keys.”

I chew on my lip and look back at Martin who’s quirking a brow at me.

“I apologize, this will only take a second.” Nowayam I turning down a chance to see Dylan today. Between the fire station, preparing for this meeting, and staying on track with all my other clients, not to mention Dylan’s crazy schedule, I haven’t seen him since dinner. Although we’ve texted every day, it’s not the same. “Send him in, please.”

I rise to greet Dylan and work to slow my heart rate as the door to my office opens. When I see him, I can’t tell if knowing what his cum tastes like makes this easier or harder andalthough I know I would never send him away, maybe seeing him for the first time after a week-long absence in the presence of an audience wasn’t the smartest move.

His eyes rake over me and I watch the blue I love turn to black as he takes in the custom cut of my light denim colored suit. The top button of the white shirt beneath my jacket is level with my nipples, but the cut of the shirt is such that not much more than a sliver of my chest is exposed. His eyes snag on it anyway, fanning the flames of my own desire.

I only get to keep his heated gaze on me for a second because he quickly realizes we aren’t alone in the room.

Much to my dismay.

“I’m sorry for interrupting.” He nods his head toward the governor and then looks back at me. He’s in a plain black t-shirt and jeans with rips on his thighs and I love that he felt comfortable enough to roll into my office exactly as he is. “I thought you might want these. I’ve had her a long time.” He tosses me the keys and I find my voice.

“Thank you. Dylan, this is Governor Martin Cosey. Governor, this is Dylan Ryder.”

Martin stands and reaches his hand toward Dylan who returns the shake.

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