The kiss went on and on. Dylan’s hand, which Jenny had never noticed was so big or quite so strong looking, was on the woman’s ass, holding her in the perfect place for him to—
But surely that was breaking the bonds of friendship. Surely she shouldn’t imagine what he was doing with that part of his body. Particularly not what was making them both make those sounds.
And Jenny felt as if she’d been cast in stone and made into a statue of foolish astonishment, right there outside his house. Because she couldn’t move. She couldn’t pick up her bag and slink off in shame to hide off around the corner, at the very least, until this ended.
One way or another.
The embarrassment was so great that she felt her entire body heat up, and a melting sort of sensation sink through the center of her, seeming to pool down low.
She told herself it had to be shame. Because what else could make her cheeks so hot?
He murmured something into the woman’s ear that Jenny couldn’t hear. It made the woman sigh a little, then nod. The leg she had hooked over his hip slid to the ground, and Jenny watched as Dylan kept a hand on her body, steadying her.
“All right, then?” he asked.
“All right,” the woman said softly, then smiled in a way that made something curl around and around inside Jenny.
All that heat and the melting, too, until she wasn’t sure she could breathe.
Then they both turned, and of course, Jenny was still standing right there. Her cheeks so crisp and bright they hurt.
But that didn’t hold her attention. What did was the way Dylan was looking at her.
Because for a moment, she didn’t recognize him.
There was something in that green gaze of his that she had never seen before. Something fierce. Hot and dark and dangerous, when Dylan was the least dangerous man she’d ever met. His face changed, too. He seemed bigger, harder, wilder—
And as long as that kiss had gone on, this moment stretched out even longer.
Jenny had the strangest notion that she had lost something. That something had shifted, permanently. It was that seismic. It was that terrifying.
Nothing will ever be the same,a voice in her whispered.
But he blinked.
Then he smiled, and was Dylan again.
“Christ, Jenny,” he said, his voice filled with laughter and charm and above all,safety. The way it usually was. “What the bloody hell are you doing in Australia?”
CHAPTER TWO
DYLANKILBURNWASused to this dream.
He’d had it enough, though usually when he dreamed of Jenny appearing before him she was wearing a whole lot less.
“I should have told you I was coming,” she was saying, and that was another clue that he wasn’t dreaming this.
Because his fantasies weren’t about Jenny sounding apologetic. Or tired.
They were far more energetic. Athletic, even.
And Dylan was only dimly aware of the woman he’d been kissing moments before. The eager Corrine, who had woken him up with her mouth on his cock, and who, if he was completely honest, he’d closed his eyes and imagined was Jenny at several points last night. Because that was how fucked-up he was. He’d been telling himself he was at a place of peace with how twisted he was, but that had been more convincing when the real Jenny wasn’t...right here.
He shot Corrine a smile, turning while he did it so he could help usher her out of his door, because he’d never been a gentleman, had he?
“You really do have a queue, don’t you?” Corrine asked.
But she sounded good-natured, not jealous or upset. Dylan did pride himself on that. He liked them to leave happy, satisfied and under no illusions about the possibility of any feelings cropping up.