release. Get your dick out for once and it won’t be a problem… Which reminds me, I have to get back to the pack.”
The pack? Pack of what? Whatever that meant, she wasn’t sure it sounded good … Where the hell am I anyway? But she couldn’t quite get her eyelids open.
“I have to. There’s a house full of women waiting for me. The sun’s already down. I shouldn’t be out at all. If it wasn’t for that compulsory dinner for the sake of appearances—”
“You’d never have met her,” snapped the first voice – Mr Annoyed.
“True,” agreed Mr Cool. “She’s … interesting.”
“Interesting? She been calling Ryan’s name out over and over—”
Damn! Again? Must everyone get to hear my sex dreams?
“Which is exactly why you need to service her, Taylor – no fucking around this time unless you’re actually going to fuck her.”
That was met with a heavy silence and no verbal response.
Lydia heard a door close shut and… Oh, my god! Was that the lock turning? Her mind yelled at her to wake up and high-tail out of there as fast as she could. Unfortunately, her body seemed to like the idea of getting laid because she suddenly realised she was trying to get closer to … Taylor … and his irresistible scent.
Shit – get a grip, Lydia!
She fought against the haziness that had taken her over and with a ridiculous amount of effort, forced her eyes open.
The toilets. She was on the floor of toilets of the theatre restaurant where she had been with Lisa earlier. Eeew. Thankfully the tiles smelled like lemons, which meant they’d been recently cleaned. Taylor leaned over her, swabbing the hot patches of red rash that the silver had inflicted on her, with his wet shirt which he’d obviously stripped from himself and doused in cold water.
He had a nice chest. Not wide like Ryan’s, but slim and still muscled – lean – the physique of a cyclist rather than Rambo.
Lydia, his torso, no matter how fine, is not what you should be focusing on.
As if to taunt her, his scent wafted around her once more.
Moisture spread between her legs.
This had not been her intention upon opening her eyes.
He looked up from treating her and met her gaze. “Don’t worry,” he smiled, although his smile was tight. “I’ll take care of you.”
And then she remembered Simon.
She struggled to sit up, but Taylor placed a hand on her stomach and held her down. “It’s okay, I’m almost done.”
Because her fever had her exhausted, she sank back down to the floor. “What happened to that dickhead?”
His smile eased and grew wider. “You’re very direct. Lawrence found him attacking you. He won’t be doing that again. He’s been fired. We stopped short of calling the police, because … well, in some ways he was intoxicated – not in his right mind – although if you want to press charges, Lawrence will back you up all the way. He sort of felt a little responsible for putting you in that position in the first place.”
What position? “Who’s Lawrence?”
“He owns this building. Tall, blond, eyes like sabres – not easy to forget.”
Ah … yes. “The guy who smells like you,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Whatever. She was ill – really fucking ill. And she’d been attacked. She was going to excuse herself for saying stupid things for once.
Taylor looked at her, amused, and his stare held something she hadn’t seen there before: heat. And it did funny things to her – funny, Ryan-type things. And she really needed to stop thinking about Ryan as a real person – that had become a habit of late.
“Yes,” he said simply. Then he did something she didn’t see coming at all. He bent down and licked her rash, concentrating on an area at the hollow of her throat.
The effect on her was sudden, and impossible not to react to. The burn of the rash immediately cooled under his tongue, but it was the new, sudden rush of liquid