Page 106 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

“Nope. I never shut up. So, sue me. Bear in mind, I do have a damn good lawyer.” I wink at Ace, and he smiles. “If you don’t let me talk and say my piece, Tyler Grayson, then so help me God, I’m going to come a calling day in and day out to this little clubhouse of yours, and I’m going to talk your ears off.”

“I’m sure I can think of ways to get you to stop talking, Jay.”

I laugh out loud at the sheer arrogance of this man.

“That might have worked when I was sixteen, Ty, but these days, orgasms just make me even louder.”

Ace snickers. Tadgh grimaces, shakes his head, and looks decidedly uncomfortable. I guess my brother doesn’t want to hear his sister talking about orgasms.

“Why don’t we just consider what she’s asking, Ghost? Like my wife, Jessie’s a business professional as well as a biker, so she’s not going to breathe a word of what gets discussed outside of these four walls.”

“Finally, a man with some common sense,” I mutter.

“She can talk to me on my own.”

I stare at him and frown.

“What? One on one? Just you and me?”

“That’s if you want to hear what it is I’ve got to say, Jay.”

I nod at Tadgh and Ace and watch as all then leave Tyler’s office.

* * *

I starearound the room and wait for him to come back. The walls are new, crisp, and white. A direct contrast to the battered old wooden desk Ty sits at.

I inhale the smell of new paint.

Tears prick my eyes at the memories it evokes. Manhattan. My apartment.

Dylan O’Connell.

It’s been two months since I left, and not a single word. Then again, he can’t contact me as I blocked his number. Maybe I’ll unblock it in time.

I’m not saying I won’t return to Manhattan. In fact, I’ll have to at some point. JAA has managed to use good old Candice as an intermediary, but matters requiring a person-to-person meeting are piling up. And if I’m going to have to talk to them, I’d rather it be in the same room as opposed to virtual.

I lean back in the beat-up old brown leather armchair and turn my attention to the window. It overlooks the front of the building, over the area where the compound will eventually be. Beyond that, it’s just miles and miles of uninterrupted Nevada desert.

Tyler comes back into the room. He has to walk behind me to reach his side of the desk, and the smell of his leather cut and his spicy cologne washes over me. He smells good. He looks good.

Too good.

But then, he always did. That’s why all the girls were chasing him. And why he no doubt serviced each and every one of them. I watch as he runs his hand through his jet-black hair. He’s likely wearing it down so I’ll admire its mid-back length.

“Earth to Jessie.”

“Sorry?”

“You were staring.”

“Was I?”

“You thinking back to when I fucked you?”

“Nope.”

“Liar. You’re drooling.”

---