Filed to story: I Slept With My Ex's Father (Olivia & Dylan) Book PDF Free
I should be going through the procedure documents for our upcoming construction on the wine cellar.
The club might have to close for a day or two here and there to avoid members having to deal with the noise and the dust. This will be unprecedented for most of them, so I need to make sure the dissemination of information is clear and far-reaching.
However, it’s hard to be focused on work when Dylan is roving the lobby, talking with our newest member Marty Villanueva.
Whenever I’ve seen the two together, Dylan is a laugh a minute. Right now, though, he’s got his lips forced into a perpetual smile. I’m not even sure he’s listening.
Something is troubling him. And as much as I shouldn’t, I still want to try and fix this. Need to. If I can alleviate his burden, then I will.
And herein lies the problem. It’s not just that my body aches for him, that I thirst for him, that he’s starting to appear in my dreams.
It’s that I want to be there for him in ways that would bring us too close together for a boss and an employee. Let alone a father and his son’s ex-girlfriend.
I push Nate from my mind and get to my feet before I can question what I’m about to do. I open my office door and lean my head out, hoping to catch Dylan’s attention.
And I do. At once. He feels me just as much as I feel him. He raises his eyebrows in question.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Can we talk?” I point over my shoulder into my office. “About the construction.”
Marty grins and smacks Dylan on the arm. “Oh, please, go right ahead. Wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of that.”
I’m grateful the new whisky-tasting room was Marty’s idea. Makes it easy to snatch Dylan away without any balking.
He nods at Marty before striding toward me, head held high. He’s always striding as if the earth is rising to meet his feet. Like he owns the place. Which he does. But there’s something completely intoxicating about it.
I retreat into my office and close the blinds. I’m intent on finding out what’s wrong with him, and if that means breaking him down a little, so be it.
However, I know Dylan is a prideful man. I don’t want people ogling us through the window.
Dylan closes the door behind him and stops to watch the blinds fall. “Is there something about your question that needs to be so…secretive?”
I blush and shake my head. “I have a confession to make.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I don’t really have a question about the cellar construction.” My mouth grows hot.
What on earth is wrong with you? What are you doing?
Dylan and I don’t have any kind of personal relationship outside a few heated encounters that never went anywhere. But boy, did they scorch me.
Although, I guess that’s not quite true. He’s been there for me, served me at bended knee when I was in peril. Twice. After that awful incident with Oliver Worthington. And when he found me crying over that phone call with the debt collector.
Dylan has shown a want to be there for me.
And I want to show it back to him.
“Well, first of all…” I fold my hands in front of me. “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation with Mr. Villanueva.”
Dylan rubs his chin. The soft rasping of his stubble against his hand reminds me how good it felt as our lips twined together, leaving my skin raw in the most delicious way.
“No apology necessary. He was talking my ear off; I needed an out anyway.”
I chuckle, trying to ignore the intensity of his obsidian eyes on me. It almost feels like he’s devouring me, sizing up each part of me. That might just be wishful thinking, though.
“I wanted to ask you if you were alright.”
Dylan’s face softens. All the tension he was carrying in his jaw seems to melt. And his lips part just so. It seems I’ve taken him off-guard.
“Because I…” I clear my throat. This is kind of awkward. “I just noticed that you seem a little tense today and-“
“You were watching me?”
I hold my breath.
I’m always watching you. “I can’t help but notice you when you’re here. I want to make sure that everything is to your liking around here. That’s my job, after all.”
Dylan tips his chin up.
“Anyway…” I tighten my hands together. I can feel my pulse in my palms. “It seems like you have something on your mind and, well, it’s none of my business. I’m not trying to pry, but if you needed someone to talk to-“
Dylan grabs my wrist, swings me around so my back is pressed up against my office door, and kisses me. Hard. His body is flush against mine as his kiss sinks deeper into my body, down to the pit of my stomach.
I try to fight it at first. Not because I don’t want it. Because I want it too much. I already feel a throbbing between my legs and a wet patch growing in my underwear.
Dylan locks his hands around my wrists, holding them up above my head. His teeth sink into my lower lip as he pulls back to whisper, “I can’t do this anymore.”
What? Oh my god, what is he talking about? Is this about the kiss? Because I wouldn’t mind a repeat-
Any other thoughts fly out the window when he kisses me again. His hips rut against me, his erection pressing into my belly.
Holy…fucking…
Dylan tears his lips from mine and grazes his teeth along my ear lobe. “Feel me?” His voice is but a mere breath. His hips idle forward harder as he grows. So big. And long. And everything I could have ever dreamed of.
“Yes…”
Dylan drags his lips down to my neck, bestowing a line of kisses down the sensitive skin. His teeth sink in just enough to stings but not bruise. After all, I still have to walk out of my office like I wasn’t just being devoured by my boss. “Olivia…I’ve wanted you since the night we met.”
That much was clear for both of us.
“I’ve needed you ever since.”
The second his grip lets up the tiniest bit on my wrists, I lunge for him, engulfing his face in my hands and yanking him into a desperate kiss.
Our open mouths collide, tongues clashing at first before settling into a languid motion.
I drag my fingers through his hair, messing up his perfect coif.
Dylan moans into my mouth as I tug on his hair, then pulls on the doorknob to keep me pressed against the door. “You’re a bit of a brat, aren’t you?” He tries to catch his breath.
My heart leaps. I don’t know what he is talking about but it sounds good. “A brat? What do you mean?”
Dylan’s mouth twitches to the side. “You’re the type that likes to challenge me. So that I can put you in your place.”
My mind flashes to The Underground, to all the ways that Dylan could “put me in my place.”
I’ve never been flogged or spanked or tied down, never had a vibrator used against me to be overstimulated to high heaven, have never had to kneel before someone and say, “Yes, Daddy” and be punished if I didn’t follow the rules.
But just because I’ve never done it before, doesn’t mean I don’t know I want it.
“I could tame you, you know?”
I let out a sigh that turns into a groan, coming from some deep place inside me that’s just been unlocked. “I never knew I needed to be tamed.”
Dylan chuckles and nips a kiss from my lips. “You’ve never been with someone who knew how to handle you, then.”
He presses his erection harder against me.
I tip my head back against the door, trying to keep my breath steady as his eyes lock into mine. Dylan terrifies me in the best way possible. In the way that makes me want to keep watching a scary movie or in the way that drives me to keep exploring a dark room for its secrets.
He is like the buried treasure I’ve been scouring the earth for, that’s been eluding me all this time.
“I want you so bad.” The words are a pathetic whimper, squeezed out from my lungs.
Dylan pinches my chin between his forefinger and thumb, considering me for a long moment. “Then you’re going to have to learn to be a good girl for me.”
Oh fuck.
“Can you do that?”
I’m nodding before I can even find the words. “Y-yes, I can do that.”
“We’re off to a good start, then.”
To my chagrin, Dylan backs away from me. He tugs on his suit jacket, resetting any wrinkles, and then runs his fingers back through his hair, managing to somehow get it all back into place without much effort.
I watch, hypnotized, as he runs his finger along his lower lips, rubbing off the trace of lipstick left behind by my kiss. He looks at his finger and smiles to himself.
I think I’m going to combust.
