“I missed your graduation. I’ll always hate myself for that, but this one I won’t miss. Not one special event in your life, babe. Never again.”
It took him less than five minutes to shower and dress up and when he came out of the bedroom, hair still wet, he asked, “This okay?”
Seated on one of the plush high-backed stools in the suite’s wine bar, Bree looked up from the magazine she was reading – or at least, was trying to read when all she wanted to do was relive the past few minutes over and over in her mind.
Dylan was gazing at her questioningly, looking utterly gorgeous in a silver and black three-piece suit, the kind that screamed rock god and billionaire at the same time. Only few men could ever carry this look as brilliantly as Dylan did, and the sight of him took her breath away.
He raised a brow. “That good?” Arrogant, wicked, playful – it was the Dylan she had first met and fallen in love with.
She gave him a small nod.
“Hey,” he exclaimed, a bit surprised. In a few strides, he reached her side and knelt in front of Bree. Tipping her chin up so he could look into her lovely brown eyes, Dylan asked, “Are you shy?”
She shrugged.
He leaned back a little to take a better look at her face. Seeing that, she tried to turn away, but he didn’t let her. A smile curved on his lips. “You are shy.” It was cute – and hot, and for a moment Dylan regretted promising going to the prom with her.
But the moment passed quickly enough, the need to atone for his past mistakes overpowering his selfish desires.
She hated and loved the look of arrogance on Dylan’s face. Grumbling, she lied, “I’m not shy.” She made a show of checking her bracelet watch. “Are we still going or what?”
Laughing, Dylan surprised her by sweeping her up, making Bree shriek.
“Let’s go, Cinderella.”
“I’m nothing like Cinderella!”
“Yes, you are,” he countered. “When midnight strikes—-”
“I’ll lose my lovely dress?”
He looked at her, the glitter of desire in his gaze making her shiver. “Not just your dress,” he said huskily, “—-but your virginity, too.”
“Dylan!”
She was still red-faced by the time they reached the elevator, unable to believe that Dylan, who used to be so careful about treating her like a friend that he just liked to flirt with, was now saying something so...explicit.
Dylan only gazed at her, the gleam in his eyes mocking her. He was Dylan Charbonneau. Did she really think that was the dirtiest thing he could say?
Fortunately, she was saved from defending herself when the doors slid open and the uniformed attendant welcomed them in, his eyes widening at the sight of Dylan carrying a girl in his arms.
“Put me down,” she hissed.
“G-good evening, ma’am, Mr. Charbonneau.” The younger guy was trying very hard not to stare.
“Dylan!”
He let her down slowly but didn’t let go. Instead, he captured her face and kissed her.
She tried to struggle, conscious that they weren’t alone, but Dylan pushed her back against the elevator’s wall instead, kissing her more passionately.
Bree couldn’t count how many kisses she had by now, but all she knew was that each kiss just made her feel more and more drawn to Dylan. Passion won over inhibitions and with a little sigh, she clutched the lapels of his evening jacket, using it to keep her upright. The way his tongue was playing with hers, teasing and seducing her, was seriously threatening her balance.
When he let her go, she could only stare up at him, wondering why the kiss had to end.
The attendant cleared his throat. “Lobby now.”
Bree’s head snapped towards the other occupant in the elevator, totally forgetting the attendant’s presence. Oh God! Had she just—-
Putting an arm around her waist possessively, Dylan appeared completely unbothered by their extremely public display of affection. “Thanks, man,” he said with an easy grin.
The lines between flirtation and friendliness were often blurred when it came to Dylan and women. It was a fact that bothered her a lot, but Bree knew the trait was also responsible for how approachable he was when it came to his fans.
Dylan smirked when he caught Bree staring at him, and the message behind it was patently clear. You really can’t get enough of me?
She wanted to groan. Now that he knew – really knew how much she loved him, was Dylan really going to be like this all the time?
Two hours later, and she knew that the answer to her question was yes.
Throughout the evening, Dylan had been at his most arrogant – and sweetest. One moment, he would crook his finger from across the dance floor, not saying a word, demanding that she come to him. Most times, that would be when she had found herself cornered by guys, all of them totally smitten with her transformation overnight from tomboyish dork to seductive siren. Other times, he would act impossibly affectionate, twining his fingers with Bree’s as he spoke charmingly to the girls who came on to him even with her around.