a ferocity that made my eyes water—in the best kind of way.
It didn't take long before I was doing exactly what he'd asked for. I came hard, bucking on his dick, which pushed him over the edge into his own release a moment later. He pulled out swiftly, coming on my lower back with a low grunt and heavy exhale. Then we collapsed on his bed in a sticky tangle of limbs.
As we lay there together, neither of us speaking, a weird sense of determination filled my veins. One thing I was quickly coming to realize, something Dylan was helping me to understand, was that broken things could be fixed.
I didn't have to remain broken forever. And I didn't want to.
Maybe I should tell Dylan everything after all. He could help me disappear.
14
The rest of the night was like a chapter from a romance novel. We showered together, and Dylan washed my hair for me, soaping me all up, then getting me dirty all over again.
We fell asleep well after midnight, and I knew the next day of camp would be all the more painful for it. There was no way in hell I'd accept any special consideration from Dylan either, so I would just need to grin and bear it.
That’d be easier to do now that I wasn't trembling in fear and anxiety around the camp leader. Nope, now I just trembled with arousal. Dammit.
"Stop looking at me like that," I scolded him as I buttoned up my shirt the next morning.
He just smirked. "Like I wanna make you late for forest survival skills this morning?"
I glared. "Exactly like that." I turned back to the mirror to check my outfit, then groaned when I spotted the dark marks on my neck. "Dammit, Dylan!"
He just chuckled—the big fucker—and pulled on a pair of dark gray cargo pants. Damn, that was a good look when he had no shirt on. All military and shit.
I took my shirt off again and swapped it for a high-neck top, something to cover the damn hickeys he'd left like he was a damn teenager, not a twenty-three-year-old billionaire CEO.
Wow. That sounded so implausible when I put it like that. Then again, Delta didn't seem to operate in the "normal" world with the rest of us, so what the fuck did I know?
"Come on," he said, brushing my hair back to kiss me gently on the lips. "Let's get to breakfast. Today is a rough one, and there won't be any lunch. You'll need to fill up this morning."
I cringed. "Good to know." Now that he mentioned it, I was really hungry. I guessed a whole shitload of fucking did tend to build a bit of an appetite.
He held my hand as we left the cabin but dropped it as we came closer to the dining hall. A flicker of hurt zapped through me, but I quickly shook it off. He wasn't trying to be a dick; he was trying to save me from the negative attention of other campers and guides. It was one thing to be accused of sleeping around; it was a whole different thing to present hard evidence.
This was exactly what I would have wanted him to do this morning, so these hurt feelings could just fuck right off. My emotions were all over the place lately, and it was going to be an issue. Escaping from Blake would require a level head, quick thinking, and no mess. Why had my life never felt messier?
Dylan steered me toward the buffet, giving me one of the larger plates in his not-so-subtle reminder that I wasn't eating enough for his satisfaction. Today I didn't mind though—I was fucking starving with my stomach rumbling every couple of seconds to remind me.
Everything looked fresh and delicious, so I wasted no time piling my plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, grilled tomato, and lots of breakfast potatoes, because they were crispy and salty and... perfection.
Dylan, who had a body like a professional athlete, took almost as much food, but he'd gone heavier on the scrambled eggs and lighter on the bacon. I mean, the guy worked out a lot, clearly; he'd run every one of the obstacle courses without faltering. So he could probably eat what he wanted and never gain a pound. I, on the other hand, looked at doughnuts and they attached to my hips. Hence Blake keeping me on a diet since around the day I first discovered carbs.