DirtyBeautiful Read online

  Bill waved his hand. “Phfft. I’ve been doing this longer’n you been alive, son. These folk around here don’t mind too much about propriety. Besides, it’s nice you shown an interest in that gal. Ain’t no better lady around, except my wife. But she’s off the market.”

  Dylan chuckled at Bill’s wink.

  Bill picked up a sheet of sandpaper and began to work the leg. “Besides. Erica deserves a nice lad in her life. She spent most of her young life looking after her grandparents. Can’t get a girl like that these days. Most just wanna leave Templeton for bigger, better things.” He threw a prudish look over his shoulder. “I trust your intentions are honorable toward that young lady.”

  “There are no intentions. We’re just friends.”

  Bill turned then, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Just friends, huh? Haven’t seen a friend look at her the way you did.”

  Dylan looked away then back again. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

  Bill nodded sagely. “I understand that. But you better keep your pants zipped around her.”

  “Not a problem,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

  Dylan admired the man’s gumption to protect Erica and knew better than anyone that getting her into bed wouldn’t be the best thing for either of them.

  “Well, good. Now you get on out of here so I can finish my leg.”

  Dylan gathered up his tool belt and sauntered from the shop, making a list in his head of what he needed. He paused at the doorway and looked back at Bill.

  “Hey, Bill. You know where I can find a glassmaker?”

  Bill frowned. “What for? You smashed your windows?”

  “No. I’m going to sash the windows.”

  “Why would you wanna do a fool thing like that? It’s perfectly serviceable windows at your house.”

  Dylan smiled. “I guess I want a change for aesthetic reasons.”

  Bill snorted and turned back to his work. “You might find what you’re after at Grears Demolition. It’s a housing demolition place about a ninety-minute drive from here. They have all sorts of stuff there.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dylan returned to his truck, threw his tool belt into the passenger seat and sat inside. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he jiggled them in his hands. Soft laughter reached him and he turned his head. Erica chatted to a brunette, her face animated and filled with amusement. The sun hit her red hair just right, the variant shades of orange matching the change of season. His dick throbbed. Take her. Bend her luscious body over the hood and take her hard.

  Damn if he didn’t want to. She smelled of peaches. What woman does that? Smell fruity, act all innocent and yet have the aura of a sexy siren. He palmed his cock through the denim but it did little to ease the desperate need inside him.

  When was he ever going to learn? Dylan heaved a sigh and shoved his key into the ignition, starting it up. The truck rumbled to life. Shifting into gear, he pulled out onto the road and drove home.

  His concentration fractured, he spent the ride battling with the urge to seek out Erica and give her exactly what her body needed. Him, inside her. He could barely remember how he managed to pull into the drive, but the journey was over and the battle between his dick and his conscience remained unresolved.

  He glanced over at Erica’s house and his cock surged. Constant temptation lay only yards from his front door. “She isn’t going to like someone like you,” he reminded himself.

  She doesn’t have to like you, just one particular part of you.

  “I wasn’t asking you,” Dylan snapped, knowing on some level that he was stupidly talking to his penis.

  It’ll feel so good. Don’t you miss sliding into the warmth of a woman’s body? I’m pretty damn tired of being palmed off.

  Dylan gripped the wheel and stared at the white front door to Erica’s house. “She’s too good for you. Sweet. Nice.”

  Sweet and nice breasts. I bet her pussy is even better. Do you think she’s trimmed or au naturel?

  A muscle leapt in his jaw at the picture of her naked. He’d had sex with women who loved either Brazilian or a landing strip. Jesus, was she all natural? His balls drew tight, a thrum of desire surging to life. Good thing she was still in town, otherwise he’d be over there trying to get her any way he could. He shoved the door open and slammed it shut. Time to work off the tension in his body. Nothing did that better than working with wood. He clicked open the side gate and Bud shot around the corner, a panty in his mouth.

  “Oh Jesus,” he groaned.

  Bud peered up at him. His brows twitched, almost as if he wanted to egg him on. Dylan grabbed and tugged the sky-blue fabric, but Bud seemed determined to hold on to it. Not that he blamed him. The terrier growled and jerked backward. Dylan held tight. “Come on now, Bud. Erica’s not gonna like it when she finds out you been messing with her underwear again.”

  Bud shook his head hard. Nope, he wasn’t about to give it up. Dylan held his ground and waited. They were at an impasse and the moment Bud’s jaw relaxed a fraction Dylan yanked. Laughing, he held the item up high as Bud leapt for it. Dylan shifted his knee and nudged the terrier aside as he walked to the back of the house. Bud trotted beside him, whined a bit, but accepted defeat.

  Dylan patted his head sympathetically. “Hey, I get it. I do. What’s not to like about,” he held out the underwear, “blue granny panties?”

  Did Erica have a whole drawer full of this stuff? Someone needed to get her sexy lingerie. A grin pulled on his lips as he shoved the panties into his back pocket. Yep, he was just the guy to do it. Looks like the trip up to Grears might come with some side benefits.

  * * * * *

  It’d been a little over two days since Erica’s encounter with Dylan and she still felt a decided twinge deep inside her. His sensual promise played in her fantasies and she thought everyone knew what she did late at night. Dylan had affected her libido with his naughty words and sexy body. It was unfair. There was one way out of the situation and that required copious amounts of chocolate. If she could put it in an IV and take it intravenously, she…probably would. She had to be honest. Why deprive herself of the full luscious taste of thick sophisticated chocolate? It was simply insane. Just like her fixation on Dylan.

  So here she stood, in her kitchen, arms full of ingredients to make as many chocolate confections as humanly possible. Her house would smell like Willy Wonka’s because she couldn’t get the willy she wanted. She placed the chocolate, butter, brown sugar and other ingredients on the bench. Beneath the benchtop, she ducked to pick out a mixing bowl and electric beater. Pots clashed together as she shifted them about to find one the perfect size for the job. She heated water on the stovetop and placed a heatproof bowl on top.

  Chocolate melted as she went through the routine so familiar she could feel her grandmother beside her, telling her how to fold in the flour and when to put in the eggs. She smiled at the memory. Baking always seemed to settle her emotions and connected her to good memories.

  Checking on the first batch in the stove, she heard a knock at her door. “Hellooo?”

  Erica straightened with a frown. She recognized the voice. She grabbed a tea towel and cleaned her hands on the way out of the kitchen. Beverly stood on the porch, her floral church dress flowed over her voluptuous frame. Although they’d seen each other in town and spoke quite amicably whenever the occasion arose, Beverly let others know of her anger over Greg’s eviction from Erica’s house. Although the subject never came up, Erica preferred not to draw them into an argument. After all, Erica was among many other folk who were known to drift off into lala land while Beverly rambled on about Greg’s perfections.

  Erica opened the screen door. “Beverly. What a surprise. You haven’t come over since Greg and I broke up.”

  Her lips were compressed in irritation, but Beverly kept her council. “I had to come over. It’s all about town that you are seeing that young man next door.”

  Erica wanted to roll he
r eyes. “You know you shouldn’t be listening to town gossip. We’re just friends.”

  “But Gayle said she saw you and that man kissing outside Tammy’s hair salon.”

  Erica sighed. “We weren’t kissing. He was…whispering something in my ear.”

  Beverly’s mouth opened like a gasping fish and her jowls wobbled in indignation. “No man with good morals would do that in public! And if you were wise, you would stay well away from him. Mark my words, that man is trouble.”

  Erica fumed. She sure wished Dylan had fewer morals. His determination to keep his body off hers was an aching point for her. Literally. Erica leaned on the screen door and narrowed a shrewd look on the overly righteous woman. “I don’t appreciate you making snap judgments about someone you don’t know. Dylan bought that house next door to live here of all places.”

  Beverly snorted with disdain. “Everyone knows people who have something to hide move to towns just like ours.”

  “Are you saying Reverend Thomas has something to hide? Or Maybe Fran and Will Stephensen are running from the law? What about Tammy McCabe? All of them moved here and have been pillars in our community. If I recall, you go to church to hear Reverend Thomas’ sermons, have Sunday brunch with the Stephensens and get your hair cut at Tammy’s.”

  “But that’s different. He hasn’t involved himself in the community. Just holes himself in that house. For all we know he could be running from the mob!”

  “He is renovating that house and your claims of connections to crime families is…ridiculous! Ask Bill if you have any questions about him.”

  On the losing end of a battle, she huffed and tempered her tone. “I worry about you, after all.”

  Erica braced herself, ready for the long spiel of how other men would never amount to the greatness of her son. “Thank you, but I—”

  “I never questioned why you chucked my son out on his ear, but it’s never too late, you know. I know he must miss you. He left town because he was too heartbroken to stay.”

  No, he left town because he’s a lying, cheating dog. Erica struggled to keep the polite smile on her face.

  “Every time I call him, he is interested to hear about you.”

  Erica doubted it. If anything, he and his oversized ego probably basked at the thought of her pining after him. “Well that’s nice, Beverly, but I really have to go. I’m baking for the school Octoberfest tonight and really need to get on top of that.”

  Beverly paused, her mouth open to begin another argument toward the fine qualities that Greg possessed, no doubt. “Oh, well I suppose we can chat another time.”

  “All right, have a nice day, Beverly,” she lied through her teeth.

  She returned to her brownies and began to start work on the icing. Melted chocolate cooled off to the side and she popped a stray piece in her mouth. An ecstatic moan left her as she savored the sparks of sweet, subtle bitterness and thick cream.

  “Jesus, are you trying to kill me?”

  Erica whirled around and stared at Dylan propped against the wall. She swallowed the chocolate. “How did you get in here?”

  He thumbed toward the front. “Through the door.”

  “I know that’s how you got here, but you didn’t even knock.”

  He shrugged, a hand shoved in his pocket. “Didn’t want to stand out there while that woman drilled holes in my back with her eyes. I said hi to her, but she just huffed and acted as if I had rabies or something. I know every place has one or two town lunatics. Is she one of them?”

  Erica snickered. “Town lunatics?”

  “I have it on good authority, since I came up with the theory. In LA there was this guy who wore aluminum as underwear and scared the pigeons because they attracted the attention of aliens.”

  “Well, I guess your theory is blown out of the water, since there isn’t a town lunatic here.”

  Dylan wagged a finger at her. “See, that’s what I was worried about. If there isn’t a town lunatic, the person that reckons there isn’t one is generally the nutcase.”

  Erica made a sound caught between a laugh and an indignant huff. “Are you saying I’m crazy?”

  “Yes. But a cute kinda crazy,” he said in all seriousness.

  Erica narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

  “Would you forgive me if I’d brought you something?” He pushed off the wall and she noticed he had one arm behind his back.

  “You got me a present?” she asked, delighted that he would think of her.

  He winced. “Kind of. Think of it as my neighborly duty.”

  Intrigued, she waited with bated breath. He held out a purple paper bag filled with blue tissue paper. She accepted the gift and held it to her, a sweet floral scent wafted upward. Perfume? Reaching inside, she felt something soft and pulled it out. From her fingers dangled a pair of sky-blue lace underwear. Unable to fully comprehend what she looked at, she turned it over and eyed the size. It would fit her. Absently her thumb circled the intricate detail. It was by far the prettiest pair of panties she’d ever had. Suddenly it hit her. Dylan bought her underwear. No one did that unless they were romantically involved.

  “You bought me underwear?” she asked rather stupidly.

  A queer look somewhere between guilt, delight and embarrassment passed over his face.

  She reached inside and found several pairs of briefs with matching bras. Each were sexy and sensual in their own way and yet very practical. “How did you know my size?”

  “I managed to crawl under the house and find Bud’s hidden stash. He’s quite a hoarder. Got some bras and underwear packed to make a nice cozy bed for himself. Course, he clued on to me. It wasn’t pretty.”

  Erica giggled behind her hand. “Oh my. He does seem rather obsessed.”

  He raked a hot look down her body. “I don’t blame him.”

  Heat filled her cheeks and she clutched the bag to her chest. “Um, so you came here to replace my underwear?”

  “And to make good on a promise.”

  “Promise?”

  He stepped closer, his body heat radiating through her clothes. “To make you scream in pleasure.”

  Instant desire ignited between her legs and she sucked in a sharp breath. He trailed a gentle finger along her collarbone. Sparks followed in their wake as he went from one shoulder to the other and back again. Heart racing, Erica allowed him to relinquish her of his gift. The silence in the kitchen crackled with sexual tension and tingled over her skin.

  Dylan tipped her chin up, his gaze captured hers. Slowly he traced his thumb over her wet lips, the soft touch so gentle it was like butterfly wings. It teased her senses and made her wish for his mouth on hers. Deft fingers skated along the apple of her cheek then moved behind her earlobe. If she were a cat, she would’ve purred. She was caught up in the sensations he invoked in her and her eyes slid shut of their own accord.

  His other hand tracked a line along her nape and sent shivers of delight down her spine. Up and down, arousal rose and waned in rhythm to his touch. Hot breath touched her cheek and when she angled her head toward him, his hand fisted in her hair, holding her still. Her breath caught, half in uncertainty, the other half in excitement.

  “Shh,” he crooned.

  His lips caressed the curve of her cheek, his hot breath moist on her skin. Erica shivered as his mouth captured her lobe and teeth scraped over the delicate flesh. The wet smack as he released her ear to explore her further made her gasp. His hand slipped under her blouse to caress her stomach. Had she cared, she might’ve been embarrassed about her softness, but she wanted him too much. His groan of need hit her square in the chest.

  His mouth hovered over hers, his breath tickling her lips. Close enough to tease, but not to touch. She opened her eyes and stared into the blazing desire in his. He smelled of mint, as if he’d sucked on candy before seeing her. An impish smile played on her mouth only to disappear as his tongue traced a line over her bottom lip. Luscious tingles sk
immed over the tender flesh. She flicked her tongue out to taste him. To see if he was as minty-fresh as she hoped. Tongues twined and the cool remnants from the sweet ran over her taste buds.

  He pulled away, the fist in her hair holding her still as his calloused hand scraped up and down her belly. Frissons of desire sparked over her skin and condensed in her pussy. Moisture gathered in her panties and she tightened her thighs to ease the desperate throb there. His hand glided upward and traced her bra. She arched into his touch, wanting him to cup her breasts.

  He licked her top lip. “Not today.”

  Erica moaned.

  He placed an open-mouthed kiss below her jaw. His tongue whirled in slow, sure glides around the sensitive flesh. Raw, hot need raced from the point of contact to her breasts. Blindly, Erica grasped at his shoulders, her knees knocking together. Molten fire burned across her skin as he repeated the motion on the other side.

  Fabric whispered over her sensitized skin as he unbuttoned her blouse. He released her hair to slide his palm along her shoulder, easing one side down. Everywhere he touched tingled with desire. He flicked the fabric from her body to expose her to his stare. Lust surged and made her tremble. His gaze seared through her, a slight tremble rocking her frame at the intensity in his eyes. His mouth parted in awe and lust. “You’re beautiful.”

  Erica’s heart did an unsteady flip at his fervent words. He did this, he made her feel beautiful.

  He outlined the top of her bra, his fingers glided salaciously over the swells and dips of her breasts. Her nipples scraped against the fabric with every breath she took. Never had she felt so constrained before. She wanted…needed something only he could provide.

  Wanting him to fulfill the need he silently promised, she reached for him. In one smooth move, he jerked her top off until it caught at her elbows. With the efficiency of a rodeo cowboy, he twisted the blouse in his grip until it pinned her arms, effectively stopping her from touching him.

  A smile quirked one side of his sexy mouth. “Uh uh uh. This is about you.”

  He dipped his head and she whimpered. His tongue created an invisible line of fire over her collarbone, down her chest and dipped just beyond the edges of her bra. She longed to grab his head and put his mouth where she wanted him most. She was burning up and only he could douse the flames. He skated his hand along her back, stirring a deep yearning within her womb. Her clit thrummed, the moist lips of her vagina kissing each other to spark little tremors of pleasure. Erica quaked.