commercial or boutique spa around. Hilda was so good that I think I may have orgasmed, twice, due to her expert kneading of my neck, back and thighs. She was damn good, and my body felt so relaxed that I fell straight to sleep afterward.
I woke from the massage table nearly a new woman, but the sun had lowered in the sky. I wandered in amazement through the halls of Dylan’s home, opening doors until I found him.
He was sitting quietly in a large wing backed leather chair, his dark green eyes flowing over papers in the manila folder so absorbedly that he didn’t even notice me.
I moved closer to him and saw the scowl perched on his face as though a smile had never lived there, as though he wasn’t the same man that had provided me with the sweetest ending to a bitter day.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
There wasn’t a tell-tale sign that I had startled him, the man had the face of stone when he wanted, but the way his left eyebrow lifted slightly for a piece of a second let me know that he hadn’t expected to see me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Why were you frowning when I walked in?”
He smirked and tugged me onto his lap.
“What frown?”
He grazed his fingers gingerly against the side of my face.
“I told you, so now you tell me?” I said as assertively as possible through the lull of his touch.
He looked at me then. I assume he had to consider whether or not to divulge the information.
“What is it espionage documentation?”
He shrugged his shoulders and handed over the file.
“Menory Medical wants to settle for a good amount and I feel like there is something that I am missing.”
“You miss something?” I questioned under lifted eyebrows.
I flipped through a folder that listed the names and descriptions of the patients affected.
“They must have noticed another pattern.” I said. “The first case was put together based on a series of negative commonalities with the Brandon Hunter case.”
“Right.” Dylan agreed. “Brandon Hunter’s wife, Sherry, initiated the suit after he died from an infection.”
“I noticed that they all had an infection. Now we have to figure out what other commonality they have beyond the surface stuff of age and symptoms.” I stand feeling the thrill of new ideas pumping through me. “The infection was caused by Menory products, but doesn’t Menory have a pharmaceutical side too.”
“Yes.” he confirmed.
I flipped through a folder.
“So it may not have just been the products but the medication as well”
“Which would warrant an entirely different lawsuit.” he added.
Dylan’s hand met mine in a high five.
“Right.” I agreed feeling a rush from actually using my brain and working together to solve a problem.
His eyes fell to my lips.
“Let me feed you tonight.” He flicked his tongue against my lips and a flare of need scorched inside of me.
I looked out the window at the darkening sky.
“Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes.” He added with a touch to my cheek.
His gaze was soft against me, not the same brazened mischievous heat that poured from them the first time that we met.
I couldn’t resist him. I couldn’t say no to his anxiousness or his wanting to be with me.
Dinner was served in a formal dining room, prepared by Dylan’s personal chef and served by the house manager.
“This was all so wonderful.” I remarked after finishing the delectable meal.
He wiped his mouth but looked at me as though he had enough room left still to devour me.
I had to fight back the wave of feeling washing over me and ebbing away at the barriers I had created. I didn’t want to like the man, but I was sinking.
Chapter 8
Dylan
I didn’t bring Yvette to my home with the intention of having sex with her. My intentions had been purely Boy Scout in nature—kindness to the core. She had been hurting, and I wasn’t a total monster. I wasn’t the total creep that many had painted me to be, at least not completely. I have
I woke from the massage table nearly a new woman, but the sun had lowered in the sky. I wandered in amazement through the halls of Dylan’s home, opening doors until I found him.
He was sitting quietly in a large wing backed leather chair, his dark green eyes flowing over papers in the manila folder so absorbedly that he didn’t even notice me.
I moved closer to him and saw the scowl perched on his face as though a smile had never lived there, as though he wasn’t the same man that had provided me with the sweetest ending to a bitter day.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
There wasn’t a tell-tale sign that I had startled him, the man had the face of stone when he wanted, but the way his left eyebrow lifted slightly for a piece of a second let me know that he hadn’t expected to see me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Why were you frowning when I walked in?”
He smirked and tugged me onto his lap.
“What frown?”
He grazed his fingers gingerly against the side of my face.
“I told you, so now you tell me?” I said as assertively as possible through the lull of his touch.
He looked at me then. I assume he had to consider whether or not to divulge the information.
“What is it espionage documentation?”
He shrugged his shoulders and handed over the file.
“Menory Medical wants to settle for a good amount and I feel like there is something that I am missing.”
“You miss something?” I questioned under lifted eyebrows.
I flipped through a folder that listed the names and descriptions of the patients affected.
“They must have noticed another pattern.” I said. “The first case was put together based on a series of negative commonalities with the Brandon Hunter case.”
“Right.” Dylan agreed. “Brandon Hunter’s wife, Sherry, initiated the suit after he died from an infection.”
“I noticed that they all had an infection. Now we have to figure out what other commonality they have beyond the surface stuff of age and symptoms.” I stand feeling the thrill of new ideas pumping through me. “The infection was caused by Menory products, but doesn’t Menory have a pharmaceutical side too.”
“Yes.” he confirmed.
I flipped through a folder.
“So it may not have just been the products but the medication as well”
“Which would warrant an entirely different lawsuit.” he added.
Dylan’s hand met mine in a high five.
“Right.” I agreed feeling a rush from actually using my brain and working together to solve a problem.
His eyes fell to my lips.
“Let me feed you tonight.” He flicked his tongue against my lips and a flare of need scorched inside of me.
I looked out the window at the darkening sky.
“Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes.” He added with a touch to my cheek.
His gaze was soft against me, not the same brazened mischievous heat that poured from them the first time that we met.
I couldn’t resist him. I couldn’t say no to his anxiousness or his wanting to be with me.
Dinner was served in a formal dining room, prepared by Dylan’s personal chef and served by the house manager.
“This was all so wonderful.” I remarked after finishing the delectable meal.
He wiped his mouth but looked at me as though he had enough room left still to devour me.
I had to fight back the wave of feeling washing over me and ebbing away at the barriers I had created. I didn’t want to like the man, but I was sinking.
Chapter 8
Dylan
I didn’t bring Yvette to my home with the intention of having sex with her. My intentions had been purely Boy Scout in nature—kindness to the core. She had been hurting, and I wasn’t a total monster. I wasn’t the total creep that many had painted me to be, at least not completely. I have
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