The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (25 page)

Joey has gotten his car back from the shop and drives us to meet Juls at The Tavern, not failing to remind me that we both look better in his ride than in mine.
All this Sam hate.
I’m already two rum and cokes in when Ian and Billy show up, my heart pounding at the anticipation of Reese’s arrival.

“I would just like to say, Ian, that you did an amaaazziinngg job on the ring. Like fucking brilliant, dude. You’re like the lord of the rings now. Ooohhh, you’re Frodo.”
Yup. I am definitely in the nickname giving stage of my night.
I bop around on my stool, tapping my hands lightly on the bar in rhythm with the song playing overhead.

“Wow, how many drinks have you had?” he asks as Juls wiggles in his lap. She can’t stop looking at her ring and it’s absolutely adorable. I’m certain she’s shown it to me fifty times since we’ve arrived, as if I haven’t seen it already.

“Psst, like none,” I reply. “So have you two thought of a honeymoon spot?”

“Fiji!” Juls yells and Ian barks a laugh.

“I don’t really care, just as long as I get my sexy wife in a bikini, and then quickly out of it,” he says and I feel my face flush. “I can’t
fucking wait
to marry you.” He speaks so low, I almost don’t hear him. But I do. Tears fill my eyes and I meet Juls’ rapidly blinking teary-eyed stare.

“Ladies room?” I ask and she nods.

“Babe, will you get me another drink please?” she shouts back at Ian who gives her a quick wink. We walk arm in arm to the bathrooms and slip inside, the sound of the bar crowd dying down as the door closes behind us. Stepping in front of the mirror, I smooth my dress out and fluff up my hair as Juls reapplies her lipstick.

“By the way, this Saturday I’m holding you hostage after your cake delivery,” she says as she hands me the tube she’s just used. I take it and shake my head, slowing applying the nude color onto my lips and then quickly wiping it off.

I grunt in annoyance. “I can’t pull off lipstick. It makes me look like a hooker. And why am I being held hostage on Saturday?” I hand her back the tube and she sticks it into her purse.

“Excuse you. Maid of honor duties.” I screech and jump on my heels. “We’ve got some dress shopping to do.” She wraps me up in a hug as we giggle against each other.

“I’m going to lose it when I see you in a wedding dress. Fair warning,” I say as we let go of each other.

She grabs both of my hands and beams, taking in a deep breath before she slowly lets it out. “I’m so happy, sweets. I can’t believe he chose me.” She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and bites it to stop it from quivering.

I squeeze her hands with both of mine. “Who wouldn’t choose you?” I drop her hands and turn back toward the mirror, wiping under my eyes. “Is, uh, Reese in the wedding party?”
Please say yes.
The sight of him in a tux is something I would pay to see.

“Of course, he’s the best man, which means you two will be paired up. You’re welcome.” She giggles at me and I watch in the mirror as my cheeks burn up.

We exit the bathroom together, Juls walking ahead of me and blocking my view, but it doesn’t matter. I could have been blindfolded and I’d have known he was here. I always feel his presence before I see him. As she steps through the crowd, my eyes lock onto Reese who is standing at the bar talking to Ian. My stomach tightens and I clench my fists as I walk slowly, studying him and waiting for him to notice me. He’s in his work attire, dress shirt and tie with khakis, his hair sticking out all over the place, and I decide that walking slowly is for morons. Pushing my way through the crowd, his eyes turn to mine and he smiles sweetly before his mouth drops at my appearance. I pick up my pace and run straight at him, jumping up into his arms and hearing Juls and Ian’s collective laughs as I cling to him like a vine. His smell hits me and I softly moan.

“Handsome,” I whisper into his ear as I squeeze him tightly, no intention of letting go any time soon. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“I came as soon as I could, love.” He inhales me deeply, holding my body against his as I keep a solid grip around his neck. Shifting me against his body, he turns and lowers himself onto a stool, pulling me into his lap. I lean back and study him. Green eyes blazing, parted full lips, and smile lines.
Man, he is lethal
. He opens his mouth to speak when his eyes trail down my body and stop on my thighs.

“Fuck, Dylan.” I glance down quickly at what’s possibly caused his outburst and curse loudly at the sight of my exposed garter.
Shit. This dress is not meant to be sat down in.
“What are you wearing?” I’m quickly placed on my feet in front of him as he begins tugging at the material, frantically attempting to bring it down to a more appropriate length. The giggling from me comes naturally at his flustered state.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What the hell is with the dress?” he asks through clenched teeth as I quickly scan the red faces of Ian and Juls who are watching in amusement. Joey squeals on the dance floor as Billy dips him and kisses him deeply in front of everyone. The relentless tugging of my dress brings my eyes back down in front of me.

“You don’t like it? I thought you liked me in dresses,” I tease.

“This shouldn’t be allowed in public. Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve been here for how long in this shit?” He glowers at me and runs his hands down his face, bringing my attention to his right hand that looks like he’s spent the night dragging it against bricks. His knuckles are cut up and slightly swollen and dried blood stains his skin.

“Jesus Christ. What the hell happened to your hand?” I reach for it to examine it more closely when he quickly pulls away from me.

“Don’t worry about it. The dress, Dylan. Why are you wearing that?”

Oh, no fucking way is he going to react like this and not give me any answers.
I grab my clutch off the table and make to turn away from him. “Fuck you. I wore this for you, you stupid asshole.” His hand grabs my elbow, but I somehow manage to snatch it out of his grip. “Let go of me. How dare you come in here with your hand looking like you beat the shit out of somebody and give me a hard time about my outfit. You have no fucking right to act like that.”
What the hell?
This is not the reaction I was hoping to get out of him for wearing this.
I push through the crowd of people and see the exit, but feel his hands on my waist before I can get very far.
Figures. Engage barbarian mode.
I am turned sharply and pulled against his chest, his mouth pressing firmly to my temple.

“I have
every
fucking right to act like this,” he growls.

“No, you don’t. What the fuck happened to your hand?” I push away from him and take a step back, sternly staring him down for an explanation.

He steps closer to me, eliminating the gap I just created. “Your ex is what happened to my hand. I told you I’d make sure he never touched you again, and I fucking did. Now explain to me why the fuck you’re wearing that? You knew I wouldn’t be here until later, so don’t fucking say it was for me.”

I move quickly, there is no thought behind it, just pure shock, and slap him hard across his face. The sound of the crack echoes through the bar, but no one seems to pay us any mind, except for Juls and Ian. Apparently, lovers’ quarrels are common in establishments like this.

“Are you
actually
trying to insinuate that I’m wearing this for somebody else? Fuck you. You drive me fucking crazy.” I bring my hand back again, but Reese reaches out and stops it, bringing it down to my side and pulling me against him. His chest is heaving rapidly and when I press my lower body against his, I feel his need for me digging into my hip.
Fuck, he’s turned on by this?

“You drive
me
fucking crazy. Now, say your goodbyes so I can take you home and fuck some sense into you.” I catch my breath at his words, but know right then, even before he said it, that I want it just as much as he does. He knows how and when to push my buttons and he does it better than anyone.

“Juls, I’m leaving. Love you,” I yell, but keep my eyes on Reese.

“Holy hell. That was crazy hot. Bye, sweets,” she yells back, and before I can object, I’m being dragged out of the bar by a very hot and bothered CPA.
But who am I kidding here? Like I’d ever object.

“I hope you realize just how pissed off I am at you right now,” I say as I sit in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, watching him weave easily in and out of traffic. We’ve been driving in silence for eight long-ass minutes and my annoyance level is through the roof.

He turns the radio down and clears his throat before glancing over at me. “Why, because I don’t want other men looking at you? Tough shit. That dress should be illegal.” His hand grips the center console and I stare at his red cut up knuckles.

Crossing my legs and letting my dress ride up on purpose, I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. “What happened? You didn’t kill him, did you? I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to visit you in prison.”
Although, a conjugal visit with Reese might be worth Justin’s demise. Mmmm, he could rock the hell out of some jail attire.

Stopping at a red light, he flexes his injured hand before he reaches over and slips his finger under my garter, snapping it against my skin and making me yelp. “No, I didn’t kill him, but he probably wishes he was dead right now. He won’t bother you again.” I bat his hand away to keep him from pulling at it as the red light turns to green. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Forcing out a laugh, I turn to him and see a hint of teasing in his set profile, his lip twitching slightly. “Oh, yeah, I was having a blast until this crazy man showed up and freaked out over my wardrobe selection, which, by the way,
was
for your eyes only. You owe me multiple orgasms for that little tirade.”

He lets out a laugh as he pulls into the parking garage of his building. “Oh, I think I’m the one who is in need of multiple orgasms. It is
my
birthday after all.”
Wait, what?

“It’s your birthday? Today?” He nods with a smile and parks the car, stepping out as I stay frozen in my seat. My door is opened for me and his hand grabs mine, pulling me quickly out of the vehicle. “Is it really?” The man could be lying just to get his multiple orgasms.

He reaches in his back pocket, pulls out his wallet and hands it to me. I flip it open and stare at his license, which of course contains a picture of him looking annoyingly good.
Who the hell takes a good driver’s license photo?
Focusing on his birthday, I confirm what he has just revealed to me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, handing him back his wallet as we walk into his building. His hand rests on my lower back as he walks me toward the elevators, nodding politely at the people we pass.

“I just did,” he replies, pulling me into the elevators and pressing the tenth floor button. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against his as we ride up to his floor. His scent fills my lungs and I swoon.

“But you should have told me sooner. I would have made you a cake. It’s what I do, you know.”

His hands grip my waist as he presses quick kisses into my hair. “Well, you can make me a cake now.” The doors open and he quickly pulls me with him down the hallway and into his condo.
Jeez, is he in a rush?

Flipping on the lights, I follow behind him as he sets his keys down on the counter and walks into the kitchen. I slip out of my heels, set my purse down, and begin rummaging through his cabinets, praying for ingredients.

“Do you have any flour?” I ask as he closes the fridge and hops up onto the counter. Unscrewing the cap, he takes a sip of his water and looks to be in deep thought, his eyes staring at the cabinets. “You’re in my spot,” I say as I watch him with amusement.

“Umm, no. I don’t think I have any flour. And yes, I am in your spot. But it’s my birthday, so I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He smirks at me and I give it right back to him, turning and glancing up on a high shelf.

“Can you reach me the Bisquick please?” I ask as I open the fridge and pull out the eggs. He hands it to me with a kiss and hops back up.

“Are you making me birthday pancakes?”

I pull out a bowl and grab a fork. “Nope, I’m making you my four ingredient banana cake that I used to whip up in college. Juls and I roomed together and I would create desserts out of whatever crap we had lying around. Bisquick was always on hand because she’s a breakfast junkie.” I grab the sugar bowl and set the oven temperature. “You’ve given me little choice here. I’d be set if I wanted to make you a cake made out of ramen noodles and chunky soup.” He watches me intently as I mash up the banana and begin mixing the ingredients together in the bowl, occasionally glancing up and seeing him studying me. He always seems so fascinated by whatever it is I’m doing, and I wonder if he looks at every girl like this.
Ugh.
The thought makes me whip the eggs viciously.