Page 19 of Exposed to You

Dallon appeared at the door leading into the bedroom, clad in only a small towel which was wrapped around his waist. He put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows up and down playfully. “Hey, baby.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” I whispered and hung up.

Dallon grinned and stalked toward me. I sat frozen, unable to move as he made his way across the room, climbed onto the bed and took my face in his hands, kissing me deeply. I leaned back on the pillows and he climbed on top of me, his right hand moving to cup my breast over my bra, his thumb gently circling the nipple. The small contact through clothing sent shivers through my body. It was crazy how little he had to touch me to turn me on. Then he was kissing my neck and moving down to my chest. His right hand moved to my head and he grasped my hair in his fist, holding it tight, his kisses moving further down my body, past my navel…

His head jerked up. “We should go out. Drinks and dinner. Otherwise I’m going to want to do more with you.” His eyes darkened and there was a quality to him I hadn’t seen before. He seemed… harder.

I nodded quickly. I wasn’t ready to go that far. Not yet.

“We’ll stop at your place first and you can change.”

I nodded again, still unable to speak.

He stood up and adjusted his towel. As he entered the closet, he let it fall to the floor just before turning the corner.

***

We rode the elevator to the underground parking, heated silence between us. I’d felt something in Dallon’s bedroom, something intense and… dark. The way he’d grabbed my hair, that look in his eyes when he sat up… I couldn’t explain it. It felt like fear and excitement mixing together, and it was intoxicating.

When the elevator opened, Dallon grabbed my hand and pulled me out, walking briskly so that I had to half-jog to keep up.

“Where’s your driver?”

“Arnold is on vacation this week. He has a life too, you know.”

“Pity. I feel so bad for you.”

“Don’t. I enjoy driving.” He flashed me a smile before pushing a button on his keychain. A sleek, black car beeped, its lights turning on.

“It’s nice,” I said because he was looking at me expectantly.

“It’s nice? You’re calling a Bentley GTC nice?”

“I don’t know much about cars,” I admitted. “I only recognized your Audi—Arnold’s car, I mean—because I like the connected rings. The logo or hood ornament or whatever.”

He continued to stare at me incredulously, so I carried on nervously.

“I really like it. It’s very… sleek.”

Dallon sighed. Instead of walking to the driver’s side, he opened the passenger door for me to climb in first, like a gentleman.

“Get in.” Not so gentlemanly.

He reversed out of the stall quickly, his lips set in a thin line. It wasn’t until we were far away from his apartment and headed to Brooklyn that he seemed to relax.

“Where would you like to go for dinner?”

“It’s up to you; it’s your city. As long as I get a change of clothes, I’ll be happy.”

“I haven’t been to Brooklyn in a while.”

I laughed softly. “You’re not missing much.”

“I’m really glad you didn’t go to Mix,” he said softly and smiled at me. “I would worry about you if you worked there. Your manager was an ass. He rivaled me,” he added with a wink.

I laughed. Dallon King was very comfortable with himself. “Do you need directions?”

“I remember the address from the resume discussion.”

He had turned serious again, and I wasn’t sure why; if he was remembering our argument or he was displeased with my address. Most likely both. I sighed inwardly and leaned back in my seat, trying to relax. Driving in Dallon’s car was a much more enjoyable way of getting around than the subway, and I didn’t have to worry about his reaction to my place for at least ten more minutes.

“Did you have a good talk with your mom?”

“I told her that I applied for office positions today.”

“I heard you telling her to relax. Did you tell her about us?”

I glanced at Dallon. He was staring straight forward, giving nothing away.

“No. She was worrying about…” I paused, considering whether or not to lie. “She doesn’t like that I live in Brooklyn and wants me to come home.”

Dallon’s hands tightened on the wheel. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I know, I told her I’m enjoying the city.”

He smiled at me, one eyebrow raised. “The city?”

I sank down in my seat. “The city. You. All of it.”

He laughed and faced the road again.

When it was time to show Dallon my building, I was beyond nervous. It had probably once been nice, but that was a long time ago. Now it looked in dire need of repair and, depending on the time of day and heat, smelled faintly of piss. There were multiple locks on the front door and I had keys to all of them. Dallon stood there and watched me struggle with each lock. By the time we’d walked the steps to the third floor, I was so shaky that I dropped the keys outside my door. Then when I’d finally inserted my key into the lock, the door wouldn’t budge, and Dallon had to shove his shoulder against it until it swung open and hit the wall, sagging on its hinges.

It certainly wasn’t the introduction I’d been hoping for. I stood in the hallway, fingering my keys, and watched as Dallon stepped in. I didn’t want to follow him at first, lest I take up more room in the small space.

He stood in the middle of the room and looked around him silently, hands on hips.

I waited, my right leg tapping impatiently. What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he saying anything? When I couldn’t stand the silence any longer, I blurted out, “Well? Are you going to tell me you hate it?”

He spun around to face me, disapproval etching his features. “I was admiring your artwork, Amy. You’re very talented.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I shifte

d, embarrassed, and then walked over to my dresser to pull out some clothes. Dallon approached one of my acrylic paintings, an abstract piece, and tilted his head to the side as he studied it.

“I’m just going to change in the bathroom.”

He made a noise like he only half heard me. He had moved on to my next piece.

My place really was disappointing compared to his. The bathroom was super tiny, and I bonked my elbows multiple times while changing. When I emerged, freshly changed in a light sundress and sandals, he was looking at a collage of photographs I’d made as part of my final portfolio. They were pictures of me over the years.

“I wanted to cover all the walls, so I put up almost everything,” I explained.

“I love it,” he whispered.

“It was requirement of my final project for my degree.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I like seeing them all… It’s a snapshot of your life.”

There was an amused cough and we turned to see Simon Jenks, my asshole neighbor, standing beside my broken door. He was wearing his usual backwards baseball cap and dirty coveralls and, as usual, he was half cut.

I rolled my eyes. Of all the things to happen today.

“So you do have a boyfriend, and here I thought you were lying to me,” Simon slurred, leaning against my door jamb.

Dallon crossed his arms. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Nothing, man.” Simon held up his hands in a mock defensive gesture, laughing softly to himself. It sounded like a mixture between a deranged snicker and a hiccup. “I was just saying your bitch isn’t a prude after all.”

Dallon marched forward, but I grabbed the back of his shirt, momentarily distracting him. Then Simon was gone, his laughter cut off by his door slamming shut.

Dallon turned on me. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Just my neighbor Simon.”

He continued to glare at me. “He called you a prude. Did he try something?”

I bit my lip. “No.”

“The truth, Amy,” he said in a low voice.

“He tried to make a move on me one night,” I admitted with a sigh. “He’s an idiot. A drunken idiot.”