Too Distracting (The Lewis Cousins Book 3) Page 6

  I found myself in a place that I’d only ever dreamed of, and I wanted to make the most of it. I just hoped I didn’t say or do anything to break this magic bubble we seemed to be coasting in tonight.

  “This good?” he asked, gesturing to the booth.

  I nodded and slid in, then watched him settle into the seat across from me.

  The waiter came over and Dillon asked, “Do you want to stick with the Pinot?”

  “Yes, please,” I replied, then smiled at the waiter as Dillon ordered our drinks.

  “So, about Houston,” he began, but I waved him off.

  I didn’t want to get into Travis, or why I’d left, so I decided a subject change was in order. Why ruin this perfectly wonderful evening with tales of my crappy ex. No, I wanted this night to remain easygoing and drama free.

  “Enough about me,” I began, smiling to ease my obvious dodge. “Why don’t you tell me about what’s been up with you? How was Cherry Springs while I was away? Are you happy to have all your cousins back in one place?”

  Dillon tilted his head slightly at my deflection, but allowed it and replied, “Well, I’m sure you heard most of the business stuff from Jazzy. Once my dad decided to retire, Jasmine and I took over, splitting the workload down the middle. Naturally, she gravitated more toward being the face of the company, while I felt more comfortable behind the desk and in meetings, so everything fell into place. Now, we are looking at expanding, getting Lewis Sporting Goods to be a competitor in the market nationally.”

  “Yes, Jasmine’s told me a bit about it. She’s really excited about the expansion.”

  The waiter brought our drinks, and after thanking him, Dillon continued, “As for what was up while you were gone… not a whole lot.” Dillon chuckled and settled back against the seat cushion, drink in hand. He looked so handsome with that smile on his face, the low lights of the bar hitting his auburn hair and making it shine, and the little lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes.

  Sigh. I took a mental snapshot and tried not to look like I was drooling.

  “A lot of work, going to camp every summer to help Gabe out, and spending time with the family. That’s about it.”

  I couldn’t believe I was about to ask what I was about to ask, but I opened my mouth and did it anyway, “Has there been anyone special in your life? You know, a serious relationship?”

  If Dillon thought I was a freak for asking, or overstepping in anyway, he didn’t let on.

  He just shook his head and said, “No, no one special. It’s not that I’ve been closed off to it, I’ve just been so busy and focused on work, I haven’t put in the time with anyone to form something real. But, I have to admit, seeing Gabe with Zoey, and Reardon with Chloe, I’ve started to think that maybe I need to make the time ...,” he sighed, then shrugged and added, “Maybe I haven’t met her yet.”

  Or maybe you met her when you were nine, I thought, but said, “She’s out there.”

  “Yeah, you think so?” Dillon asked with a wry grin. “Just waiting for a workaholic like me to come along?”

  “Oh, please,” I said with a quick laugh. “You’re so much more than a workaholic.”

  Dillon cocked an eyebrow, and I was on my third glass of wine of the night, so I continued, “You’re hardworking, funny, loyal to a fault, and, if I’m being honest, you’re pretty hot.”

  Dillon shifted forward, placed his elbows on the table, and grinned sexily.

  “You think I’m pretty hot?”

  I gave an exaggerated eye roll, so as not to totally sound like a teenaged girl with a crush on my best friend’s brother.

  “Duh,” I mocked. “You fill out a suit very well, you have crazy bright green eyes, and your hair is always perfect.”

  “Gingers aren’t for everyone,” he countered, still grinning.

  “Hello, have you seen Outlander? Gingers are totally in right now,” I informed him.

  “What else?”

  “You’re fishing for more compliments?” I asked, then let it all fly out. “Fine. You’re a good man, and a great brother. You’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help, case in point, me. You’re adorable with Evie. And you always smell good.”

  “I smell good?” Dillon asked, full on laughing now.

  “Yeah, which is much better than the alternative,” I joked, then sobered and said seriously, “You’re the total package Dillon, and when you find the woman you’re ready to settle down with, she’s going to be one lucky gal.”

  17

  Dillon

  Something funny was happening in my chest.

  It wasn’t just Laurel’s words. Her compliments. It was the way her face lit up as she laid out those compliments for me.

  There was no doubt in my mind that she was being a hundred percent sincere.

  Her blue eyes were shining, her full lips were turned up, and the tone of her voice almost held a dreamy quality. It brought back a memory I’d forgotten. A good one, buried deep beneath the pranks and annoyance.

  “Hey are you okay?”

  I looked up to see Laurel standing next to the bench I was sitting on, my head in my hands.

  My first instinct was to sneer and tell her to go away. To leave me alone. But I was too upset to work up the strength.

  “Gabe’s been drafted,” I said softly, the words catching in my throat.

  It wasn’t that I begrudged my cousin his success, because I didn’t. I was proud of him, and happy for him. And, of course, I’d realized that things were going to have to change. We were all graduating high school, after all, and would be going away to college, so I knew my happy little bubble in Cherry Springs had to burst. I just hadn’t expected it to begin so soon.

  I thought we’d have one last summer to hang out, spend our days at the springs, and our nights at the drive-In.

  “Yeah,” Laurel agreed, sitting down next to me.

  “And Reardon and I are going to different schools,” I added, even though I knew I was sounding like a total pussy, whining about growing up and continuing my privileged life.

  “You’re going to miss them,” she guessed, not sounding the least bit judgmental.

  “Yeah, of course, but it’s just that nothing’s ever going to be the same again, you know?” I looked over at her, really noticing her, and was struck by how beautiful she was, without even trying.

  Laurel nodded, then reached out tentatively and took my hand in hers.

  “Things are changing, and you all are moving on, but you’re family. You’re guaranteed to always be in each other’s lives. Things may never be the way they used to be, but in some ways, they’ll be better. You’ll get married, have kids, and raise your children together.”

  Smiling, I realized her words helped ease the pain in my chest a little, so I squeezed her hand and said, “Thanks, Laurel.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Thanks,” I said, finding my voice again after being struck by her words.

  Laurel smiled shyly and gave a half shrug. “I speak the truth.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” I sipped my scotch and thought about what Jasmine had told me, and although I could tell by Laurel’s earlier deflection that she didn’t want to talk about her ex, -at least not with me, not yet,- I wanted her to know that she was also a catch.

  “The same should be said about you, ya know, that whoever you end up with is going to be a lucky man.”

  The light in Laurel’s eyes dimmed a bit, and she shrugged again, and replied, “I hope so.”

  “I know so,” I countered.

  “I didn’t say those things about you because I wanted you to say them back,” Laurel said suddenly, leaning closer to me over the table.

  “I know you didn’t,” I replied. “That’s not what this is … I mean it, honestly. You’ll find your Gabe, or Reardon. He’s out there.”

  Laurel’s blue eyes hit mine and she asked softly, “What if I don’t want a Gabe or a Reardon? What
if I want a Dillon?”

  Holy shit! Did she just ask that?

  “Ahhhh,” I stuttered, unsure how to answer her, if she was serious or just fucking with me. “What?”

  She took a deep breath, then a big sip of wine, as if trying to find the courage to respond.

  After a few seconds she blew my mind and asked, “Why not try something different this weekend? What if, just while we are in Chicago, we enjoy more than great conversation?”

  “Laurel,” I began, thinking this was an idea that could only lead to trouble, even as my body had an entirely different reaction to her proposition.

  “Shhh,” she said, holding her finger up to her very plump, and, I was noticing, very supple lips. “Just hear me out.” At my nod, Laurel continued, “What if we forgo our separate rooms and enjoy the fantasy suite, so to say, while we are in Chicago. Just for the weekend, no strings attached. No one knows us here, so we’ll have anonymity while we have a great time in the Windy City. Then, when we go home, we’re back to being plain old Laurel and Dillon, who’ve known each other for ages and can barely tolerate each other.”

  “I wouldn’t say we barely tolerate…” I began again, even though her statement was pretty accurate, but she reached out and took my hand, effectively cutting off my train of thought when she ran her thumb over my skin.

  “Aren’t you at all curious? At all attracted?” she asked, somehow looking sweet and dangerous all at once. “I dare you…”

  Turning my hand to capture hers in mine, I wondered if I was insane when I replied, “Oh, you’re throwing down the gauntlet, huh?”

  “Come on, Dillon, I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” Laurel said, and although I had no idea where this confidence came from, especially since I’d never seen it directed at me, I was finding that it really turned me on.

  “Just this weekend?” I asked, feeling a pull even as doubt niggled in the back of my mind.

  “Yup,” she replied with a seductive smile.

  “Your room or mine?”

  18

  Laurel

  Oh my God!

  I don’t know what the heck happened, it’s like I was taken over by my evil alter ego, or something.

  One minute we were listing each other’s attributes, and the next I was propositioning him. It was totally, utterly, unlike me. But… I was so caught up in the night, that when he said I’d eventually find a guy like Reardon or Gabe, I just had to tell him. I love Reardon and Gabe, but the only guy I wanted to be with was him.

  It was a leap of faith, definitely fueled on by liquid courage and a beautiful night out in Chicago with the man of my dreams, but I’d realized, it was now or never.

  So, I pulled out my inner vixen once again, and asked him flat out. Who knew she was so powerful, or so able to get me what I wanted.

  Maybe I should call on her more often…

  While we rode the elevator up to Dillon’s room, I chose his, I fought back the panic attack that was threatening to level me.

  You’ve got this. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend the weekend with Dillon, in the way you’ve always wanted to spend it. Don’t chicken out.

  “You okay?” Dillon asked, taking my hand in his and pulling me out of my head and into the moment.

  I took a deep breath and brought my gaze to his handsome face. He was watching me with a small smile, but his eyes conveyed his concern.

  Snap out of it, I ordered myself. Do not give him a reason to change his mind.

  I lowered my lashes, then looked up at him with what I hoped was a coy smile. “Yes, perfect.”

  Dillon’s thumb caressed my palm, then moved on to my wrist. That small, seemingly innocent touch was enough to make my knees weaken. My pulse began to race and the elevator started to feel really, really warm. Like, sauna warm.

  I heard what sounded like a purr, and when Dillon grinned, I realized the sound came from me.

  Get a grip, I urged myself.

  It seemed like I was hell bent in cock-blocking myself. First, by being a nervous nelly, and then by being a weird psycho who purrs when touched.

  I cleared my throat and tried to mask my awkwardness by asking, “How about you, are you okay?”

  “Never better,” he replied, and then it happened.

  One second I was getting good hand, and then next, I was pressed up against the elevator wall with Dillon’s lips on mine. The purr turned into a moan as I opened for him, utterly swept away by not only the sensations brought on by his kiss, but by the fact that this was what I’d been waiting for … our first kiss.

  Not wanting to just be kissed, but be an active participant, I threw my arms around him with enough force to turn the tables and press him against the wall. Dillon didn’t seem to mind my taking over; in fact, one hand came to my ass, while the other held the back of my head, keeping me in place and pressing me closer.

  I lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist, then sifted one hand through his hair as I slanted my mouth to deepen the kiss.

  This time, Dillon was the one groaning as I bit his lower lip and rubbed against his hard length.

  Bing.

  That one, tiny sound had me jumping back, reminding me of our surroundings.

  Oh my God, I can’t believe I just did that, seemed to be my theme of the night. My hand flew to my lips, covering their plump redness as if trying to hold his kisses in as long as possible. Dillon watched me with a wolfish grin, then lifted his hand to indicate that we should get out of the elevator.

  I took a deep breath, dropped my hand, and tried to muster up some nonchalance as I walked out into the hallway. I paused, so that he could lead me to his room, then stood there like a statue as he walked to the nearest door and inserted his key card.

  Dillon opened the door, then turned to me and asked, “Are you coming?”

  I chewed my lower lip nervously before a flash of our kiss hit me and I nodded, then rushed past him and into the room.

  I stood just inside, looking around without comprehending what I was seeing.

  When the door shut with a click, I looked over my shoulder at Dillon and asked, “What’s all this?”

  “I called ahead,” he replied, unbuttoning his suit coat and sliding it off his shoulders.

  My gaze slid back and my heart began to swell dangerously.

  There was a bottle of red wine on the table, with two crystal glasses, and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. The bed had been turned down, the lights were low, and Jazz was playing softly.

  It was a total seduction scene.

  I turned fully to face Dillon, almost unable to comprehend that he’d set all of this up for me, for us.

  Because, although we’d agreed it would only be for the weekend, nothing more than a fling, he cared enough to make me feel special. That meant more to me than anything. I had no idea how to convey this to him, to let him know how wonderful he was.

  So, I guessed I’d just have to show, not tell.

  19

  Dillon

  One second Laurel was looking at me, her face filled with awe, then next, she was in my arms. All over me.

  I chuckled as she peppered my face with kisses.

  My hands were stuck in between us, where I’d been loosening my tie, so I couldn’t do much to participate. Instead, I stood there, trying not to topple over, as she reacted with enthusiasm to the scene in my room.

  I honestly hadn’t thought anything of calling concierge and telling them to set us up with wine and snacks, and to turn down the bed. Not to sound like a player, because I wasn’t one, but it was something I would do for any woman I was taking back to my hotel room.

  I’d never expected, or received, this reaction before. It was obvious that Laurel hadn’t been with a man who’d treated her to any sort of romance, and that knowledge made me want to do more. To make her see how amazing she was, to treat her with respect, and yes, show her some romance.

  My laughter died on my lips when her hands reached my fl
y and began to caress my already hard length.

  “Laurel,” I managed, my voice somewhat strangled. “Slow down.”

  Laurel pulled back and looked up at me, but kept her hand where it was, and continued to stroke.

  I tried to keep my wits about me, even as I leaned into her hand.

  “How about a drink?” I asked, resisting the urge to take her right there on the floor.

  “Okay,” Laurel agreed, removing her hand and walking over to the table to pour us each a glass.

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten, bringing forth images of my cousins and me puking our guts out in tandem, after we’d snuck out and finished a bottle of Jack when we were fifteen. When I felt like I’d at least be able to walk without discomfort, I opened my eyes and joined Laurel.

  Lifting my glass, I raised it to Laurel.

  “To the continuation of a great night.”

  Laurel smiled prettily and added, “To us.”

  We both took a sip, and, feeling more in control, I put my glass down, then reached out to caress Laurel’s cheek before moving my hand into her hair and tightening my grip slightly.

  “Oh,” Laurel gasped, her eyes drooping and her mouth forming an “o” at the sensation of having her hair tugged.

  I enjoyed that moment briefly, then stepped into her and lowered my head.

  I brushed her lips once, twice, then nibbled on her full bottom lip until she opened for me on a moan, and swept inside. Her glass hit the table with a clang, then her hand was at my neck, in my hair, and she was urging me even closer.

  I walked her backwards until we were at the bed. My hands roamed as I kissed her lips, her jawline, and her throat, learning her body with every stroke. When I reached the waistband of her slacks, finding the smooth, satiny expanse of her stomach, I dipped my fingers inside and enjoyed the shudder my touch evoked.