can make sure whoever did this pays dearly." His tone was low and threatening, sending a shiver of unexpected excitement through me. I briefly entertained the possibility of accepting his offer, of having him make Blake pay. But just as quickly, I dismissed it. Unless Dylan was willing to kill my brother—and I doubted he was—then it'd only make my situation worse in the long run.
As I turned to look back at him, just a shadowed figure reclining against the hotel sheets like an art piece, a wave of desperation and dread rolled over me. I was doomed, and there was nothing my high-profile booty call could or would be able to do about it. Better to cut my losses and walk away with my dignity intact.
"Nah, I've got it handled," I told him with an easy laugh. "But thanks."
He released my wrist almost reluctantly, and I quickly gathered my discarded clothes before I scurried to the bathroom to wash up. I needed to scrub every inch of skin and wash my hair thoroughly before I could return home. The last thing I needed was for Blake to smell another man's cologne on my hair at breakfast or some shit. I didn't hate living that much.
The whole time I cleaned up, though, I couldn't stop the nagging anxiety in my belly. It felt so anticlimactic to just walk away and never look back. So empty and unfinished. Stepping out of the bathroom again, I had the most overwhelming desire to tell the truth, to confess that I wasn't, in fact, twenty-one-year-old Serena Michaels from New York.
"Hey, Dylan?" My voice was hesitant as I paused in the doorway. The light from the bathroom at my back filled the room, but now that I was dressed again, I wasn't worried.
He looked up at me from where he sat on the end of the bed, buttoning his dress shirt over that sharply muscled body of his. Fuck, he was gorgeous.
"Yes, Serena?" He quirked a brow at me, his green eyes sparking with curiosity.
I drew a deep breath, working up my courage. Was I really going to do this? How was he going to react? I knew my brother had some business dealings with the Delta-Huntley Group, but I also suspected he wasn't on the most cordial terms with them.
"I need to tell you something," I started to say, my heart racing.
He waited patiently for me to continue, but before any more words could leave my lips, his phone rang on the nightstand. His brow furrowed, and he raised a finger to me, indicating I should wait a second as he grabbed the phone and checked the caller ID.
"Sorry." He shot me an apologetic glance. "Just give me two seconds; I have to take this." He tapped the answer-call button without waiting for me to reply and brought it to his ear with a faint smile. "Riley, what's up?"
My heart sank, and a wave of disappointment washed over me. That, right there. That was the biggest reason I was walking away from Dylan tonight. In the months we’d been sleeping together, we’d managed to have the odd conversation or two—shocking, right?—and he often mentioned his best friends. Especially Riley. The way he spoke about her… only an idiot would miss the obvious deeper feelings he held for the Delta princess. And I was falling way too hard for a guy who only used me for sex while probably completely in love with someone else.
Dylan indicated again for me to wait, then stepped out onto the small balcony to take his call in privacy, but I was on the verge of tears before he’d even closed the sliding door. The second he’d turned his back to me, I grabbed my shit and left.
I may be a weak, broken doll, but I still had some shred of dignity left. I wasn't going to throw that away on delusions of a future with Dylan Grant. Nope, his heart belonged to Riley—whether she wanted it or not—and I wasn't woman enough to fight for it.
Tears streamed down my face as I made my way home, planning to block Dylan's number the moment I had my phone in my hands. No more Dylan Grant with the magical dick and multiple orgasms. That was officially the last time I’d get to see my secret lover and soak in everything about him. Everything that turned my insides and brain to mush and made me crave things that were never going to