Schooled

Chapter 28

I could smell his shampoo. A wave of emotion washed over me and my breath hitched.

Dylan's body stiffened, and he turned his head a fraction of an inch but was still facing away from me. After one heartbeat, two, he turned back to face the bartender.

I wasn't sure what to do next and thought about retreating to beat some sense into myself. But I saw some evil girls down the bar eyeing him up. Screw pride, and sense. There was no way I was going to let them any closer.

I downed my drink and tilted my chin at the bartender to get another, mouthing my drink order. I'd need it. Dylan didn't move to acknowledge me except to let me in at the bar just enough to pay.

After taking a long sip, I tried again. "I miss you." My voice was casual but there was a raw edge to it. Something more meaningful.

His laugh sounded tight. Not the easy sound I'd come to expect, but at least he acknowledged me. And why the hell wouldn't he look at me?

We stood, not touching, surrounded by people and drinks and a low, thrumming beat, for endless moments. I could smell Dylan and feel his warmth even in the heat of the club. Being this close to him after nearly a month apart was perfect, and it was torture.

Well, at this point I had very little to lose.

"Dylan. I can't stop thinking about you."

"Yeah?" The first word he'd said to me. He glanced in my direction for a split second, our eyes connecting. I took the opening and charged ahead.

"I think about the way you laugh at my stupid jokes. The way you'll be totally sweet one moment and drive me crazy the next." He was still listening, but I couldn't read his face. I dragged in another breath. "The way every girl in this bar wants you but you don't have a clue."

Being this close to him without touching him was killing me. It had been too long since I'd had his hands on me, his mouth. While my memory had preserved parts of him, it hadn't quite gotten right the intensity I felt being in his presence. The way it felt like the air crackled between us when we were just a few breaths apart.

"Dylan?"

I waited endless minutes. The song changed to something low and primal, and still I refused to move. How long was he going to make me wait? Would he even acknowledge me at all?

He'd have to, I thought determinedly. Because I wasn't going to move.

Dylan slowly finished his drink before turning to me. When he finally did his eyes were stormy, but in the low lighting, I couldn't tell what mood he was in.

"I think about you too." Something in me thrilled as he reached a hand out to my hip, pulled me gently toward him, leaned down until his mouth brushed my ear. God, yes. Yes, yes, yes.

"I think about my mouth on you." Dylan's voice was low, his lips on my skin. Something in me curled at the feeling. "When you're just starting to come, you make those little noises because you're so close you want to scream." He pulled me harder against him. A bolt of pure lust ran down my body at the feel of how hard he was already. I had no idea whether he felt anything beyond the physical, but I was ready to take anything he would give me.

"I think about sliding into you when we're in the shower. Of being hot and wet and slippery all over, and you're even hotter and wetter inside." He said it on a single breath and I felt the air pass my ear. I swallowed audibly, not sure I could speak if my life depended on it. But my body was responding, turning to Jell-O until I thought I'd melt at his feet. He must've known, as his hands held my hips tighter to steady me.