Sweet Possession Read online

  “I can’t be without you again,” I say, so low I’m not sure if he’ll hear it. But I needed to say it, if only for myself, because there is no way in Hell I’d survive being apart from this man again. I’d do anything to avoid feeling that pain, the agony that ripped me apart for eighty-five days and left me a shell of the woman he fell in love with. I wrap my arm tighter around his body. “I don’t care if this is all we ever are. I don’t need anything besides this. But I’ll always need it.”

  His hand is on my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. That stare of his causes me to stop breathing as he studies me. Always watching. It’s so extreme, full of unspoken words as he remains silent. I take the opportunity to admire his features, the features I’ve missed so much. Soft eyes. Full, slightly-chapped lips with my favorite slit running down the middle. Smile lines that wreck me. Mild stubble that I reach up and run my finger across. He shifts to his side, pulling me even closer so we’re chest to chest, my body completely flattened against his. His lips meet my forehead and he holds them there, humming softly against my skin. I feel my body completely relax next to his. All the stress, all the tension, all the sadness and misery of the past eighty-five days dissolves instantly as he wraps himself around my body. I’m completely smothered, completely cocooned in his long limbs, wild mess of hair, and hot breath.

  He’s in my bed. In my fucking bed. And I never want him to leave it.

  “Hey. Are you okay?”

  Reese’s voice cuts into my thoughts, causing me to roll over. He pulls me against his body so we’re lying just like we were in my memory. I smile, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my lips against his chest.

  “I’m more than okay. I have you in my bed.” A low laugh rumbles in his throat as I dig into the muscles in his back with my fingers. “Do you remember the first night you were in it?”

  “Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Do you remember what you said to me before we fell asleep?”

  I glance up at him, momentarily stunned he remembers, and nod once. “That I couldn’t be without you again.”

  His eyes focus on my mouth as he brushes my hair off my shoulder. “That. And you said you didn’t care if that was all we ever were. That you didn’t need anything else.” He pauses, his eyes reaching mine. “I almost asked you to marry me right then.”

  My heart thunders in my chest. “Really?”

  “Really.” He leans forward and captures my mouth in a tender kiss, his tongue lightly brushing against my lips, seeking entry. I give it to him and moan softly into his mouth. He pulls back after several seconds, blinking heavily before locking onto my eyes. “I knew then, Dylan. I knew way before then you were it for me. And I would’ve never let that be all we ever were.” He kisses my cheek, my jaw, and the side of my mouth. “You were always meant to be mine. Even before I knew it.”

  I kiss his jaw before tucking my face underneath his head and relishing in his scent. “Damn straight.”

  He wraps me against him, pressing his mouth to my hair. “You’re so romantic, love.”

  I chuckle, feeling his body shake with laughter as he holds me. “You’re hard to compete with. Shall I try?”

  “If you want.”

  I nuzzle closer. “Will you marry me?”

  He laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. “Hell yes, I will.”

  And for some reason, hearing his answer does something to me. Even though I said yes to him six months ago, it does something to me. “I was yours when I was sixteen.”

  I feel his reaction to what I’ve just said. The way his grip on me tightens. The pause in his breathing and the shuddering exhale that follows. “Damn straight,” he finally replies after several seconds of silence.

  And I smile as I’m pulled closer. Never close enough.

  Tuesday in the shop went by without a glitch. Brooke showed up on time, surprisingly, and was proving herself to be a good addition to Dylan’s Sweet Tooth. She was great with customers, her bubbly personality winning over several of our regulars, and she and Joey were even getting along. For the most part. They were by no means besties, but they were at least tolerating each other and keeping their bickering to a minimum.

  I stayed in the back all day, whipping up two special orders getting picked up on Wednesday. One was for Mr. and Mrs. Crisp who were celebrating their anniversary this week. They were my longest-standing customers, stopping in practically every morning for two of my famous banana nut muffins. I adored them and insisted on not charging for their cake. They’ve given me so much business over the last three and a half years, and this is my way of thanking them. Of course, the two of them argued with me until they were blue in the face about it, but I refused to take their money. I wanted to do this for them. Sixty-five years of marriage was definitely something to celebrate, and I felt honored to be a part of that.

  Staying away from the foods I was told to avoid was becoming increasingly difficult. I’m sure there is no baker in the history of bakers who has gone on this strict of a diet before. I’ve never deprived myself of food; I’m not one of those girls. I eat. A lot. And this low-carb shit was seriously getting to me by mid-day on Wednesday. Not only did I not taste-test the German chocolate cake with extra coconut in the frosting I made yesterday, but I also steered clear of the red velvet cupcakes I whipped up for the other special order. And I don’t say ‘no’ to cupcakes. Ever. They are my go-to treat, the thing I’d request as my last meal if I were on death row. The one dessert I’d cut a bitch for, and they were off-limits. I was eating like a damn rabbit and hating every second of it. I’ve never been on a diet a day in my life and for the first time in the three-and-a-half years of owning my bakery, I was finding myself wishing I would’ve picked a different career path.

  I’m pushing the pieces of lettuce around in my to-go container, hungry but not hungry enough to swallow another bite of this garbage while my dear assistant scarfs down a cheesesteak sub next to me. I’ve been giving him dirty looks since he returned with our lunches fifteen minutes ago, and he’s been doing his best to avoid my judging stare.

  “I should fire you for eating that shit in front of me. As my Man of Honor, you should be suffering right along with me.” I shove my container away down the counter and flick my disapproving stare between his sub and his face. “Give me a bite of that.”

  “Hell, no.” He turns his body so his back is to me, keeping his sandwich out of my reach. “You only have three more days and if you don’t fit into that dress, you’ll be pissed at me for giving you a bite.” Spinning around, he holds up his empty hands and chews animatedly. “This is so disgusting. You’d hate it,” he says through tight lips, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  I scowl at his obvious lie as the shop door dings, gaining mine and Joey’s attention. Freddy comes walking into the bakery, the familiar white box in his hands. My chest tightens at the sight of it.

  “Freddy! Perfect timing. This one is in a mood and could use something from her man.” Joey nudges me with his shoulder and steps up to the counter.

  I pout at him playfully before I reach out for the white box Fred has placed on the counter. “Pick something out from the display case, Fred. You know the drill.” He bends down, his eyes lighting up as he surveys his choices. I quickly sign the clipboard as Joey pulls out a chocolate cupcake, slipping it into a bag and handing it to Fred.

  Fucking cupcakes. I should just give him the whole tray and get them out of my sight.

  “Thanks, Ms. Dylan. Enjoy your delivery,” he says cheerfully, taking his clipboard and his cupcake before exiting the shop.

  I pull the white ribbon, lifting the sides of the box and flipping the lid. Joey moves closer to me as I pick out the dark brown card, opening it and feeling that same nervous energy I always get when I’m about to read one of Reese’s notes.

  Dylan,

  Don’t give me a hard time about this. This is long overdue.

  X, Reese

  Confusion sets in as I place the c
ard next to the box and begin sifting through the tissue paper. I’m digging, looking for whatever he’s placed in here that weighs close to nothing.

  “Where is it?” Joey asks as he hovers at my shoulder.

  I continue moving the paper around. “I don’t know. Maybe he forgot… holy shit.” I reach in and lift out a set of car keys, letting them dangle in the air below my fingers. “Oh, my God, Joey.” Turning toward him, I see his shocked expression as his jaw hits the floor.

  “Holy shit is right.” He snatches the keys away from me, turning them over in his palm. A dramatic squeal escapes his lips as he points to the emblem on the key. “A BMW? He bought you a BMW?” His eyes look past my shoulder, widening even further before he grabs my hand and drags me around the counter.

  I’m in a state of shock as he opens the bakery door and pulls me outside onto the pavement. And then I really lose my shit all together. Parked right in front of the bakery is my gift from Reese. A brand new, insanely-shiny, highly-underserved, white BMW.

  Joey hits the unlock button on the keys and opens the passenger door. He ducks his head inside while I stay completely frozen in place a few feet behind him.

  He bought me a car. A really expensive car. Probably more expensive than the one he drives.

  Joey straightens up and motions for me to join him. It takes great effort to move from my spot on the sidewalk, but I manage and step up next to him, ducking my head down to look inside the vehicle.

  “Leather interior, sunroof, and you have a built-in navigation system. Please, for the love of Christ, let me borrow this sometime.”

  I reach inside and run my hand along the leather seat. “This is crazy. I can’t believe he bought me a car.”

  “I can. That man outdoes himself every time Freddy steps inside the shop. I’d only be shocked if I was the one getting a brand new vehicle.” We both stand and he shakes his head at my car. “Remind me to tell Reese he needs to give Billy tips on how to be an amazing boyfriend.”

  “Poor Billy.” I nudge him and he laughs against me. “He has to put up with your moody ass and what does he get out of it?”

  Joey grins wickedly at me and we both chuckle. He doesn’t need to say what Billy gets out of it, because I’m sure the entire population of Chicago knows full well the elaborate workings of my lovely assistant’s sex life. He isn’t shy about that information and will tell just about anybody.

  I close the car door and take the keys from Joey. “I need to go see him. Do you think you could man the shop for me?”

  He smiles giddily. “Hell, yes I…” he stops midsentence as Brooke comes hustling down the sidewalk, department store bags in her hands. Joey turns and leans his body against the car, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seriously, Brooke? When I say you can take a lunch break, it doesn’t mean a fucking two-hour shopping spree.”

  She sneers in his direction, coming to a stop in front of us. “Relax, bitch. You’re getting premature wrinkles.”

  Joey immediately turns, dropping down to examine his face in my side-view mirror. “That’s not even funny,” he growls.

  She places her bags at her feet, flipping her car keys in her hand. “You’re just jealous because I’ve got a hot date tonight and you don’t.”

  “I’ve got a hot date every night, and one I don’t have to pay for,” he snarls, straightening up and spinning back around. “What do you charge for your company these days?”

  Brooke’s jaw tightens, her nostrils flaring with rage. “You know what? Now you’re not getting the shirt I bought for you!”

  “Brooke, knock it… wait, what?” I look down at the bags at her feet.

  “What? Did you say you bought me a shirt?” Joey asks with genuine curiosity, stepping closer to her.

  She shrugs, averting her gaze. “It’s not that big a deal.” She reaches into her Macy’s bag and pulls out a light blue T-shirt, holding it against her chest. “It was on sale, and I thought it would look nice on you. You look good in blue.”

  I smile at her thoughtfulness, watching as Joey takes another step closer to Brooke. She holds the shirt out to him and he takes it with an astonished expression. She looks at me and grins. “Anyway, I’m sorry I took so long. It won’t happen again.” And before Joey can give her a thank you or react in any way to her gift, she picks up her bags and walks into the shop.

  “Damn. This shirt is fucking fabulous. I kind of feel bad for the boyfriend comment,” Joey says.

  “You should. That was really nice of her.”

  He shoots me a challenging look, but it’s short lived. Brooke did well and Joey knows it. And the smile he tries to hide as he folds the shirt against his chest isn’t missed. Once he’s done, he smoothes out his skin once more in the mirror behind him, tucking the shirt underneath his arm. “Do you think I have wrinkles?” Oh, Lord.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Your skin is flawless.”

  He grins. “You know why, don’t you?”

  I immediately hold up my hand to stop him from talking. “Please, spare me the ‘semen is the fountain of youth’ conversation. I find it hard to believe that mine and Juls’ swallowing habits are directly related to the number of crow’s feet we end up getting.” I shake my head at the memory of that discussion a few years ago. Joey really is a piece of work, trying to convince us to up our blow-job game to ward off any fine lines.

  “You good?” I ask. I need to go get ready for my visit with Reese, knowing full well his lunch break is the best time to get him alone.

  He smiles. “I’m great. Go properly thank that man before I do it for you.” He arches his brow, the wicked gleam in his eyes beaming at me.

  I chuckle at his comment as we both walk back into the shop. Practically sprinting up the stairs, I run straight for my lingerie drawer with only one thought in mind. Naughty Dylan is about to come out to play, and she’s not going to hold anything back either. Reese Carroll, you have no idea what you’re in for.

  This is crazy. Seriously, completely insane. I’m riding the elevators of the Walker & Associates building, my knees shaking against each other under my oversized trench coat. Glancing down at myself, I tighten the belt around my waist and bite the inside of my cheek. I’ve never done anything like this before or even remotely close to this. I mean sure, I’ve shown up to Reese’s work multiple times and given him an office quickie, but I’m always dressed appropriately when I do it. Never, and I mean never, have I pulled a stunt like what I’m about to do. I try to shake off my nervousness as the doors ping open. Stepping out onto the twelfth floor, I begin the stroll toward his reception area.

  I need motivation, so I think of the delivery he sent me as I walk down the long hallway. A brand new car definitely deserves this type of a thank you. A brand new car that drives like a fucking dream.

  Sorry, Sam.

  I spot Dave, my favorite receptionist who Reese re-hired. After firing him for being ‘too cheery’, I convinced Reese to give him another chance, which he didn’t fight me on. And since I’ve spent a considerable amount of time in this office over the past eight months, Dave and I have become fast friends. His crooked smile lights up his face as I point toward Reese’s door, silently asking if he’s available. He nods and, like he always does, motions for me to walk right in. Glancing down one last time to make sure I’m covered, I swing open the door and step into his massive office.

  He looks completely focused, eyes on his computer screen and pen stuck in his mouth. Lucky pen. With the sound of my entrance, he glances up slowly, his eyes locking onto mine as I close and lock the door behind me. All my nervousness is left in the hallway, and before I can give him the chance to speak, move, or even breathe, I open my coat and drop it to the floor. And that’s not the only thing that drops. His pen falls out of his mouth as his eyes slowly take in my attire.

  I’ve chosen a matching red lacy bra and panties, garter, stockings, and my black stilettos I wore the night of my bachelorette party. My bra and panties are insanely see-through, bar
ely even classifying as underwear, and when I say red, I mean fire-engine red. I’m standing in his office, screaming at him in this outfit like a siren. My skin is flushed from the sheer contact of this ensemble. This is has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done and by the way Reese is looking at me right now, it’s totally worth it.

  He leans back in his chair, his eyes staying glued to my body as he rakes both hands through his hair. “Jesus fucking Christ.” His eyes meet mine briefly before he drops them to my chest. “I can see right through that.”

  “You don’t like it?” I ask playfully, seeing his tongue dart out and lick my favorite slit that runs down his bottom lip. Oh, yes, my tongue will be doing that in just a minute. “I’ve come to thank you for your gift.”

  “I’m not gonna last long,” he replies quickly, his hands firmly gripping the arms of his chair. “I’m telling you right now, whatever you’ve planned,” his Adam’s apple rolls in his throat, “I’m not gonna last with you wearing that.”

  “That might be the best compliment you’ve ever given me.” My smile busts my face open, and I can practically feel his erection from where I stand. With the heated look he’s giving me right now, I’m positive I won’t last long either. Please, like I ever do with this man’s skill level. I place my hands on my hips and stand up straight, ready to start my fun.

  “Now, there are two rules you must follow in order for this to play out in your favor.” I bend down and grab my coat, placing it on the chair after I retrieve my cell phone out of it.

  “And what would these rules be?”

  I can feel his penetrating stare as I scroll to my playlist. After finding my selection, I stride over to his desk and walk behind it. “Rule number one,” I place my phone down next to his computer, “you’re not allowed to touch me at all during the song.”

  “Fuck that,” he states firmly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. At the sheer sight of him behind his massive desk, I’m almost tempted to agree with him and say fuck rule number one. He’s magnificently dressed in his work attire, which never ceases to have the same effect on me as the first day I saw him in it. His hair is fuckably messy, his deep emerald eyes are piercing into mine and continually raking over my body, and his lips are wet and ready for me.