The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (19 page)

“I wanted to make a quick stop before we went to lunch. That okay with you?” she asks after pulling onto the highway. My eyes are heavy and I feel completely relaxed after our day together, which is nice considering how stressed out I was when the day started.

“Yeah, I don’t care. Hey, have you heard from Joey at all? I know he’s spending the weekend with Billy, but when the hell have you ever known him to not call one of us immediately after he gets nailed?”

She laughs, “I think Joey does the nailing, right? Isn’t he the man in his relationships or whatever the fuck?”

“I don’t know. Do they switch it up?” I glance out my window at the passing cars. “I mean, do they take turns doing the nailing?”

“I don’t think so. Wouldn’t it be like you switching with Reese or me switching with Ian?” She pulls off the highway and down a familiar street, turning into a large parking lot that overlooks a view of athletic fields and basketball courts. Pulling behind a tree, she puts the car in park and turns to me, smiling wide.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Umm, what are we doing here exactly?” I gaze out the front window and see the crowds of people in front of us. There is a large playground filled with kids and their parents, a soccer game going on in the middle of the large field, and a group of men playing basketball. My eyes widen and I grip the seat.
Oh, my.

“I thought we’d stop and enjoy this beautiful day for a second before we stuff our faces. See anything you like?”

I spot him right away, almost instantly. Shirtless in loose fitting black running shorts, Reese dribbles the ball between his legs while Ian guards him, stepping back slightly before gracefully pushing the ball into the air and whooshing it through the net.
Fuck me, he looks edible.
I hear my breathing quicken as my eyes take in his gleaming muscles, drenched in sweat and practically calling out to me.
Touch me, Dylan. You know you want to.

“Holy hell.” I slam my head back and hear her giggle. “I can avoid lunch entirely if you’d like. Who the hell needs food anyway?” My voice is thick and it takes me a minute to swallow the lump in my throat.

“Seriously, what the hell
is
food?” she says through a laugh and I feel my body temperature rise as Reese steals the ball from another guy and goes up to dunk it. “Wanna get a closer look?”

My eyes widen. “I don’t know; he’s so pretty from right here. I think if I get any closer I might pass out.”
That and the fact it will probably take an army to pry me off his body.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Christ, look at Ian. If he keeps moving his hips like that, I might come right here next to you.” She unbuttons the top of her blouse and sighs heavily. “How’s the sex with Reese anyway? Amazing?”

“Amazing doesn’t even touch the surface with him.” I moan softly as he goes up and blocks another man’s shot. “It’s like his body is specifically wired to bring me to orgasm, and I mean
every part of his body
.” My eyes go straight to his lips as he bites on his bottom one. “His mouth is insane.”

Juls covers her mouth and giggles. “Fuck, I know what you mean. Ian is obsessed with eating me out. He has to do it every time he sees me or it’s like he can’t function properly. And, Christ Almighty, is he good at it.”

I glance over at her. “Who would have thought a bunch of accountants could write a book on oral sex.” My eyes flick back to Reese as he dunks the ball again. “Jesus Christ, he’s good looking. It really is unfair to the rest of the male population.”

“Ooohhh. Send him a text message. That way we can see his face when he reads it. I fucking love that. Seeing a guy’s reaction to you when he doesn’t know you’re looking. So fucking hot.”

I smile and pull my phone out of my purse, thinking for a moment before my thumbs begin to move.

Me: Hi, handsome. Just so you know, I had a wonderful massage from a very strong woman named Betsy today. However, I would like another one from you if you’re still offering. Does yours come with an orgasm?

I press send and watch as Reese, after a moment, turns toward a pile of clothes that are tucked against the chain link fence. Holding up a finger, he jogs over to it and searches around before he lifts out his phone. His chest is rapidly rising and falling and his hair is drenched, sticking out all over the place. I can only see his profile and bite my lip as his turns up slightly.

“Ah. Look at that. So worth it,” Juls says and I completely agree.

Dropping his phone on his clothes, he jogs back over to the game with his beautiful grin. My phone beeps and I hold it up for us both to read.

Reese: Hi, love. I’m glad you enjoyed your girls’ day, and yes, the massage from me that you will get very soon definitely comes with an orgasm. Pervert.

I giggle and turn to see the strangest look on my best friend’s face.

“What?” I ask, seeing her eyes beginning to water.
Oh, Christ.

“He calls you love? Ah, hell, Dylan, I don’t know who’s more romantic.” She wipes under her eyes and I feel mine well up. “You better hold on tight to that one, sweets.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I say and blink rapidly, trying to dry mine up.

Juls backs out of the parking space and drives through the lot, slowing down and staring past me through my window. “Hey, isn’t that one of the desk girls from their work? She looks really familiar.”

My eyes follow hers and I recognize the girl immediately, the hair a dead giveaway. She’s sitting on a bench partially obstructed by a tree and staring in the direction of the basketball game. “That’s Reese’s receptionist. Fucking bitch. She was so rude to me when I went to kill him on Monday, acting all possessive and catty. Why the fuck is
she
here?” Part of me wants to hop out of the car and run straight into his arms, declaring in front of her and whoever else wants to watch, that he is mine. But I don’t. Instead, I just glare at her profile.

“I don’t know, but she’s staring at them like a creep. Redheads freak me the fuck out.”

“Me, too. Come on, let’s go eat.”

Now that I seem to have not completely blown it with Reese, my appetite is back with a vengeance. Although, it is still a bit unsettling seeing his receptionist eye the lot of them up like she wants to eat them.
Maybe she’s dating one of the other three guys?
I make a mental note to ask Reese about it next time we see each other, which I decide will not be until Tuesday. I can’t see him every day. I’m already struggling with keeping my feelings and emotions out of this thing between us enough as it is.

Monday morning comes quicker than I would have liked. I pass out early on Sunday and sleep soundly, not hearing my phone ring when Joey calls in the middle of the night. Noticing the missed call when my alarm goes off, I dial him quickly, putting it on speaker phone as I get into my running gear.

“I have news, cupcake. I’m on my way though, so meet me out front.”

“Okay.” I end the call and slip on my sports bra, tank top, and running shorts before popping into my Nikes. Grabbing my phone and my keys, I run downstairs and out the front door, locking up behind me as I begin to stretch.

It’s already humid out and my top begins to stick to me in the most uncomfortable way possible. Summers in Chicago can be brutal, and when you start sweating immediately after stepping outside in the early morning hours, you know you’re in for a hot one. This is one of the reasons why I don’t understand the appeal for a summer wedding, at least not here anyway. Maybe somewhere with no humidity that doesn’t turn your hair into a frizz fest after spending hours on making it look nothing less than perfect. I attended an outdoor wedding a few summers ago where I appallingly watched my beautiful three-tiered white chocolate creation melt in front of everyone at the reception. It was awful. Luckily, the bride thought it was hilarious and didn’t care one way or the other because she was so deliriously happy to be married to her husband. Juls worked that wedding with me and told me the couple had only been dating nine weeks before he proposed to her, and at the time, I remember thinking there was no way in hell that marriage was going to last. How could anyone know without a doubt that they wanted to be with each other forever after only being together a few months? Juls agreed with me, saying the bride had mentioned how strongly her family was against the marriage, but she didn’t care. She told my best friend she didn’t want to wait any longer to start her life with him and that when it’s right, it’s just right. The past three summers on their anniversary, I’ve gotten a thank you card from the bride for helping make their day so special. And now look at Juls. She’s only known Ian a few months and is crazy in love with him.
And look at you, Dylan. No, don’t look at me. Nothing to see here.

My eyes flick toward the pavement as Joey’s tall frame comes jogging in my direction. Stopping in front of me and pulling his knee to his chest, he looks giddy beyond his usual giddy self.

“Are you going to make me ask?” I question, stretching my arms over my head.

He smiles and switches legs. “Billy asked me to move in with him.”

Whoa.
“What? Are you serious? That’s crazy. What did you say?”

“Yes. Obviously.” He jumps up and down on his feet and motions to me that he is ready to start running.

“Obviously? Joey, do you even really know this guy? He could cut out your organs and sell them on eBay. He could have a weird fetish.”

He shakes his head. “I know him as well as you know Reese and you’re in love with him.”

Fucking Juls.
Jesus Christ, I need some new friends.
“I
cannot
believe she told you that. I will cut a bitch next time her skinny ass walks into my shop.” Realizing Joey has stopped running, I glance back and see his expression.
Motherfucker. He is one sneaky bitch.

“I fucking
knew
it. You love him, Dylan. Oh, my God, this is fantastic.” Running up to me, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me against his already drenched shirt.

“Gross, you’re all sweaty. And I am not in love with him. Juls told me she was in love with Ian and I said something about maybe, possibly, doubtfully one day being in love with Reese. That’s it. End of discussion.”

Stepping back and holding me at arm’s length, he studies me for a moment before he speaks. “Okay, whatever. But I think I’m in love, so can we focus on that fucking weirdness for a second?”

We hit our stride and I let Joey tell me all about how he’s seen Billy practically every night since they met at the wedding and how he’s never felt anything even close to this before, which I knew already. Joey is never shy about his feelings toward his hook ups and always shares more information than I would care to know. He tells me how they were hanging out at Billy’s last night, lounging and watching television together when he just came out and asked Joey to move in and without hesitation, Joey said yes. He says he didn’t have to think about it; he knows he wants to be with Billy every free second he has and he has never been this happy before with just one person. I’m speechless. I am literally without speech. This is Joey Holt we’re talking about here. The man who went through other men like he was going for some kind of record. He once hooked up with three guys in one night at a club and did it without them knowing about each other. His longest running relationship was five minutes. And now, after a little over a week of knowing somebody, he’s wifing up? I’m not sure whose wedding I’ll be getting fitted for first, Juls’ or Joey’s.

I call Mrs. Frey that afternoon, confirming the details of her anniversary cake she wants me to create for her since I missed our meeting on Tuesday. She sweetly asks me how I am feeling and tells me how excited she is to be celebrating fifty years of marriage with her husband. Fifty years. I can’t even imagine. She’s a bit undecided about her cake flavors, knowing only her husband wants a chocolate cake, but not having any other preferences. I smile to myself when I ask her if the two of them like mint chocolate and she squeals into the phone. Suggesting my newly discovered chocolate peppermint frosting and telling her how absolutely decadent it is, she settles on her cake and I reassure her it will be ready for pickup on Friday.

After ending her call, I slip my phone out of my pocket and scroll to the contact info of a certain icing lover.

Me: Guess what kind of cake I get to make for someone’s anniversary? I’ll give you a hint. It’s a flavor you seem to be quite fond of.