against her curves, and Dylan began to despair of ever stopping
with a taste.
He did. Not right away, but when he couldn’t bear the constrictions of their clothing, of their sentiments, he stopped. Every muscle in Dylan’s body craved for more.
Their ragged breathing was a cacophony in the silent car. His put his hand on her cheek. It was heated, as he could feel his was. Her skin was like watery silk.
“That wasn’t a good idea,” she said in a harsh voice, “unless you want to come up.”
He grabbed on to her shoulders, his hands holding her like a lifeline. But he managed to say, “No, I can’t. We won’t do this again.”
A heavy breath escaped her. “Then unlock the door.”
He hesitated.
“
Now
, Dylan.”
Not knowing what else to do, he clicked the lock and she shot out of the car. He watched her until she disappeared into the building. Then he put his head down on the steering wheel, took in steadying breaths, and cursed himself in the darkness.
Chapter 6
“Hey there big brother.” Bailey smiled at Dylan on the computer screen when he answered her Skype call. He was rumpled and held a Guinness. Since she did, too, they lifted their bottles and said, “
Slainté
,” simultaneously.
Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. “You look awful.” She winked. “Well, as awful as Dylan O’Neil can look.”
He didn’t take the bait, which worried Bailey. Now his eyes were bleak. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Why?”
“Just shit around here.” His face brightened. “Hogan’s home.”
Bailey smiled at the thought of her Dylan-look-alike nephew. “How was the visit with his mother?”
“Same old, same old.”
They talked about the kids, Ma and Pa, then the discussion turned to his job.
“I finally got to read your column on KPRAY. You challenged them, without accusing them of anything.”
“I have a meeting tomorrow with the head honcho there.”
“You’ve got the most interesting job, Dyl.”
“With drawbacks.”
Ah, so he did want to talk about it. “What’s going on with Rachel?”
“You know me so well, which I don’t sometimes like.” He took a sip of his beer. “Mayor Jacobs called the head of Rachel’s network, and my editor, Herb Baker, strongly recommended—aka ordered—me to give her a second column. To do that, I have to be with her.”
“Holy shit! That’s the last thing you want.”
“You know, I could avoid all this if Clay would just make nice with her.”
Bailey’s face shadowed. “He’s so busy, and stressed, Dylan. I’d hate to bother him with this.”
“Hey, I was kidding. And I’m not sure that would help, anyway. I gotta do this. Don’t worry, I’m a big boy.”
“Which is part of the problem. You have male needs.”
Dylan guffawed. “I don’t need a lecture on that from my baby sister.”
She grinned. “Your baby sister’s learned a lot since she was a teen.”
He chuckled. At least she made him laugh.
“So, what’s the update on Mark?”
“As a matter of fact, he was discharged today. He’s going to Camp David to recover. His wife Michelle insisted because he’d never stay out of the business of the country if he was in D.C..”
“So Clay’s got a long haul as acting president.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you moving into the White House?”
“No, Clay refused and I didn’t want to, either. It caused waves, but we couldn’t usurp their family that way. Besides, that place gives me the creeps.”
Again, Dylan laughed. “You sure are a different kind of Second Lady. Is he home much?”
She shook her head. “We haven’t seen him for three days. He’s getting briefed about the areas of most concern. He slept in the Reagan bedroom, but I can tell when I talk to him he’s not getting much rest. He’s coming home tonight, though. We’re having a romantic dinner after we get the kids down.” She smiled. “Anika’s staying over, so Rory will leave us alone eventually.”
“Great nanny you have
with a taste.
He did. Not right away, but when he couldn’t bear the constrictions of their clothing, of their sentiments, he stopped. Every muscle in Dylan’s body craved for more.
Their ragged breathing was a cacophony in the silent car. His put his hand on her cheek. It was heated, as he could feel his was. Her skin was like watery silk.
“That wasn’t a good idea,” she said in a harsh voice, “unless you want to come up.”
He grabbed on to her shoulders, his hands holding her like a lifeline. But he managed to say, “No, I can’t. We won’t do this again.”
A heavy breath escaped her. “Then unlock the door.”
He hesitated.
“
Now
, Dylan.”
Not knowing what else to do, he clicked the lock and she shot out of the car. He watched her until she disappeared into the building. Then he put his head down on the steering wheel, took in steadying breaths, and cursed himself in the darkness.
Chapter 6
“Hey there big brother.” Bailey smiled at Dylan on the computer screen when he answered her Skype call. He was rumpled and held a Guinness. Since she did, too, they lifted their bottles and said, “
Slainté
,” simultaneously.
Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. “You look awful.” She winked. “Well, as awful as Dylan O’Neil can look.”
He didn’t take the bait, which worried Bailey. Now his eyes were bleak. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Why?”
“Just shit around here.” His face brightened. “Hogan’s home.”
Bailey smiled at the thought of her Dylan-look-alike nephew. “How was the visit with his mother?”
“Same old, same old.”
They talked about the kids, Ma and Pa, then the discussion turned to his job.
“I finally got to read your column on KPRAY. You challenged them, without accusing them of anything.”
“I have a meeting tomorrow with the head honcho there.”
“You’ve got the most interesting job, Dyl.”
“With drawbacks.”
Ah, so he did want to talk about it. “What’s going on with Rachel?”
“You know me so well, which I don’t sometimes like.” He took a sip of his beer. “Mayor Jacobs called the head of Rachel’s network, and my editor, Herb Baker, strongly recommended—aka ordered—me to give her a second column. To do that, I have to be with her.”
“Holy shit! That’s the last thing you want.”
“You know, I could avoid all this if Clay would just make nice with her.”
Bailey’s face shadowed. “He’s so busy, and stressed, Dylan. I’d hate to bother him with this.”
“Hey, I was kidding. And I’m not sure that would help, anyway. I gotta do this. Don’t worry, I’m a big boy.”
“Which is part of the problem. You have male needs.”
Dylan guffawed. “I don’t need a lecture on that from my baby sister.”
She grinned. “Your baby sister’s learned a lot since she was a teen.”
He chuckled. At least she made him laugh.
“So, what’s the update on Mark?”
“As a matter of fact, he was discharged today. He’s going to Camp David to recover. His wife Michelle insisted because he’d never stay out of the business of the country if he was in D.C..”
“So Clay’s got a long haul as acting president.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you moving into the White House?”
“No, Clay refused and I didn’t want to, either. It caused waves, but we couldn’t usurp their family that way. Besides, that place gives me the creeps.”
Again, Dylan laughed. “You sure are a different kind of Second Lady. Is he home much?”
She shook her head. “We haven’t seen him for three days. He’s getting briefed about the areas of most concern. He slept in the Reagan bedroom, but I can tell when I talk to him he’s not getting much rest. He’s coming home tonight, though. We’re having a romantic dinner after we get the kids down.” She smiled. “Anika’s staying over, so Rory will leave us alone eventually.”
“Great nanny you have
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