Love Emerged (24 page)

He nods to my comment. Brad is nosy, and he’d positively spread it to the masses. The last person I want to know about us is him, which causes a problem since he’s Dylan’s roommate. Hence, the reason most of our hook-ups are at my apartment. But, last night, Brad was moaning about some sort of Sam guy, so when he went to take a shower, I snuck out.

“Tonight, at your place.” He smiles, breaking the distance between us.

I take a long and deep breath, smelling his enticing masculine scent that makes my core tingle. His hands are veering down my waist, and he squeezes my ass, pulling me against him.

“I had to take care of myself last night, and I’m a firm believer that, if I have a girlfriend, my right hand doesn’t need calluses.”

“Well, am I supposed to be at your beck and call? Should I just stop wearing panties so you have fast access whenever your dick gets hard?” Not that I wouldn’t accommodate his request.

His eyes widen. “That’d be awesome. Let’s do that.” His lips twitch as he tries to appear serious.

I narrow my eyes. “We need to go.” My hand finds the doorknob behind my back.

“One kiss,” Dylan urges. His one hand moves up my cheek, and his eyes fixate on mine.

They are only ever filled with warmth, and I wonder if this man has a mean bone in his body.

He descends, and his lips lightly brush along mine. A soft moan escapes me, and it must spur something in him because he presses me to the door, his hips locking me in place. His tongue parts my lips, and mingles with mine.

I’ve noticed one thing about Dylan McCain over the last two weeks. The longer we’re together, the more comfortable he is with showing how much he truly wants me. It might be my body that has him wound tight, but I’ve never been this aroused by one smoldering look from a guy. When Dylan looks at me, my body heats up instantly.

He slows the kiss much sooner than I would prefer, but I was the one who said we needed to head back to work.

Dylan says nothing when his hands leave my hips, but our eyes lock until I turn the doorknob and open the door. He follows me down the hall, and I’m thankful that most people’s eyes are on their computer screens as they start their day. Well, all except Mr. Slacker, Brad Ashby, who is leaning on his cubicle wall, with a smirk across his face while we pass by.

“Well, well, did you find that file?” He sticks his head out in front of me, nodding rapidly.

I punch him in the gut again, and Dylan starts cracking up behind me.

“You can blame yourself for that one,” Dylan says, not stopping to check on his roommate.

“I’m guessing Dylan’s a selfish lover. The women I’m with are in a state of euphoria after I’ve finished.”

“Watch it, Ashby,” Dylan hollers back.

All I can think about is what our coworkers are thinking right now. Then again, most wear headphones because they’re quiet individuals, and they love boring things like numbers and budgets.

“You’re all talk,” Brad says back.

But, this time, Dylan doesn’t engage him.

Once we pass the conference room, we’re back on our side of the building. I stop at Samantha’s desk to grab the coffees, but I see that they’re all gone, except for mine and Dylan’s.

“They came and took theirs.” She smiles, her fingers moving to answer the next phone call.

Great. Fuck.
They’re going to wonder where we went.

I glance back to Dylan with a teasing smirk to say,
You are to blame
.

He laughs, sipping his coffee and rounding the corner to his cubicle. I walk straight, and just as I assumed, John swivels in his chair and brings one ankle up to his knee.

“Spill,” he says.

I shake my head. “What? That we need to prepare for the Nike ad?” I sit down in my chair, keeping my back to him. Usually, I can lie as well as Bernie Madoff, but when it comes to Dylan, I wish I could stand up in my cubicle and tell them that I scored a pretty great guy.

“You’re worthless. Samantha said he grabbed your hand.”

“So?” I boot up my computer, typing in my password.

“You don’t see me grabbing your hand. Or Kevin.”

I feel his eyes on the back of my head, waiting for me to spill all the details of our relationship.

“Oh my God, it was nothing.”

He makes a tsking noise. “I don’t know, Bea. Watch yourself. Those work romances never end well. I mean, how often do you really hear,
We conquered the company together
? More often, it’s,
Biggest mistake, and now, I have to sit across from him in every meeting
.”

I take a deep breath, concentrating. “Then, it’s good that nothing is going on with me and Dylan,” I lie, biting down on my lip to stop the smile emerging on the off chance that he swivels me around.

“I’m going to let you deceive me, but as soon as the two of you are ready to come out, I expect to be the first to get details.”

“Um, that would be me,” Yasmin speaks up.

My hand flies up, thumping back down on my desk.

“Why don’t you all mind your own business? Bea and I just worked our asses off on an account, and we’re presenting today. The last thing we need is for the rumor mill to go into overdrive.”

The bite does no good because after Dylan’s remarks, my smile is wide and open. John swivels me around and shakes his head when he sees my face.

Saying nothing, he spins me back around to the computer.

Samantha buzzes me to tell me that Nike is here, and she showed them to the conference room. Since Nike had explained that we would have an hour to present and talk before they went to Chicago for another firm’s pitch, I spring up in my chair, my stomach tumbling with every step. Dylan meets me at the corner of the cubicles.

We lock eyes, each taking our own breath. This is it—my ticket to senior executive. His hand brushes mine at my side, and he leans forward, his lips at my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

“Don’t worry. You’ve got this. You’re a beautiful, confident woman, who’s smart and creative. Now, let’s go in there, so we can kick some ass and celebrate . . . naked and fucking.”

A pool of wetness releases onto my panties, and I’m thinking he had a very bad idea with his inspirational speech.

Couldn’t he have just left it at,
Let’s go get them
, with a high five?

No, Dylan had to go all nakedness and sex talk as his wet mouth was about to suck my earlobe.

He pulls back, smiles, and waits for me to go first.

Jackass
. Although, I have to say, feeling wanted sure is a confidence boost.

Samantha gives us two thumbs-up as we pass her desk, and I smile. She might be tooth-decay sweet, but she’s okay.

All the execs from Nike are lined up with their backs to us. Looks like a mix of four men and two women.

I stop, feeling a last drop of fear. “There’s so many,” I whisper.

Dylan nods.

He’s used to this. He was the one who sat in many presentations with AdSec, the most distinguished and admired firm in advertising. He sat in on meetings with celebrities who were endorsing the item. The man has connections, and I’m guessing that’s why he’s so much calmer than me.

Knowing I can’t walk in first, Dylan slides by me in the doorway, taking the first seat since he’s presenting his portion first. I sit down next to him, being sandwiched between him and Tim. Mr. Knight and a vice president on the other side of Tim are making smalltalk with everyone.

I nod and smile to the execs, checking each one out. They all have one thing in common. Young and fit. Seriously, at least two are younger than me. They look fresh out of college. The one girl is admiring Dylan as he looks over his notes, jotting some last-minute things down. I, however, am still, waiting for the introductions.

Tim stands, and we all follow, but Dylan is still concentrating on the ad campaign until Tim says his name. As I’m shaking each of the six people’s hands, the pen from Dylan’s hand drops to his pad of paper. No big deal, but when I glance over to him, his face is ghost white, and he’s staring at the girl who was admiring him.

The girl with bouncy brown curls and the girl-next-door face smiles wide, her perfectly white teeth shining bright. “Hi, Dylan,” she says.

I nudge Dylan’s arm when he doesn’t respond because the other execs are staring at him. He blinks, coming out of his haze.

“Ava,” he chokes out.

I glance back to the girl and to Dylan. I’m missing something here.

“Please excuse me for a second.” Dylan bolts out of the room.

The girl follows him after whispering something to her coworker.

Dylan

I HAVE TO BE SEEING
things because if Ava is standing across from me right now, I might lose my coffee all over this table.

Here is this enormous opportunity, and Tim already assured me that I’m in if I nail this account. That I won’t just make it to senior exec, but I’ll be in charge of the senior execs.

Now, God has some screwed up way of screwing me. My future career is sitting in the hands of Ava, my ex-girlfriend who calls me every other day, asking for forgiveness. Forgiveness that I’m not giving her.

To make the situation worse, Bea is on my right. Now, she’s probably confused as to why I’m currently running out of the room to compose myself.

“Dyl,” says the voice I’ve tried to erase from my head.

The chipper sound that I once found endearing, hot even, now grates on my nerves.

I put my hand up in the air. The longer I stay out here, the worse this pitch will be. I’d like to punch myself in the face for even walking out of that room.

“After,” I say, walking by her and straight back into the conference room.

All faces are turned my way, curiosity and annoyance on most but Bea’s. She studies my every move, and when Ava follows me, Bea tracks her back to her chair. I can see her working it out in her head, who she is and why I had the reaction I did.

But I can’t worry about Bea or Ava right now. I need to focus on this pitch. A campaign that Bea and I have been working on every night to perfect.

“Dylan”—Tim looks past Bea—“everything okay?”

I clear my throat and straighten my suit jacket sleeves. “Yes, Tim. I apologize.” I lower my head to the Nike team. “I left something by the receptionist desk,” I lie. What else am I supposed to tell them?

Clearing my throat again, I wish that I were sitting so that I could chug a glass of water. Hell, give me the whole damn bottle, and while they’re at it, they can switch it out for vodka.

Bea’s encouraging smile eases me a little, and I nod. She starts up the computer to start the presentation, and I move over to turn off the lights.

“We’re well aware that you’re number one in your industry, so please let me show you what Deacon Advertising has come up with for you,” I start my pitch, taking the seat next to Bea.

She adds in where we’ve written that we’re changing. Bea’s more secure with the girl lines, clearly referring back to her swimming days.

An hour later, we’re sitting across from the team sent to us from Nike with the lights on and my heart about to pop out of my chest. I’m fortunate because they’re a transparent group. None of them sit there, stone cold. Some are smiling, and others are pleasantly content in their seats. I’ve accompanied a few stiff jerks during my time at AdSec, and there isn’t one in this bunch.

“I think it’s great,” Ava speaks first.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye.
Fuck.

“I agree,” Tim chimes in, smiling that pervert grin to her. Probably thinks he’ll get lucky with her.

I ignore them and focus on the boss man in the middle. The boss always sits in the middle because he sits first, and then his subordinates file around him.

He nods. “I really liked it. I think you have a unique idea. Of course, there would need to be some tweaking.”

“Of course.” Bea smiles, nodding.

I watch his eyes dip down to her blouse.

“I liked the woman line more, to be honest. Did you say you were a swimmer?” He focuses on Bea.

“I did. Michigan.”

“I think that’s valuable experience other advertising companies don’t have. Especially with the new line we’re starting that’ll be strictly for women’s sports.”