I’m sure it’ll come to nothing, she’s gone again now back to whatever hellhole she crawled out of.
Stay safe,
Mom xx
To: mollymk@toscanomail
From: mmk@toscanomail
Hi Mom,
It wasn’t your fault that Justin came here, he is what he is. Just don’t wait for him to change, because hand on heart I don’t think it’s ever going to happen.
Thanks for not telling Suzie where I am. She made her choice when she got herself pregnant with Donovan’s child, and I’ve made my choices here in Ibiza.
I’m scared to even say it, but I’m real happy here, mom. The only thing I miss about the States is you.
Love you.
Matty
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“So, Dylan,” Kara said, admiring his ass as he turned to pour them both a shot of brandy. They’d locked up and seen the last of the staff out of the building after a long, busy night. They had the whole club to themselves before the cleaning team arrived in a few hours, and they were suddenly wide awake and ready for each other’s company. “A little bird tells me it’s your birthday today.”
Dylan slid her glass over with a roll of his eyes. “Do they now?” He didn’t need to work very hard to figure out how she knew. “I might have to take a shotgun to that six foot something Norwegian little bird.” Keeping things simple, he’d used his real birth date on the employment paperwork he’d filled out for Lucien all those weeks back, never thinking anyone would trouble to mark the day here on Ibiza. He’d assumed it would slide under the radar, another unwelcome link to his real life. He guessed he hadn’t bargained for Lucien’s eye for detail.
Kara slid off the stool, her drink in her hand. She was wearing another of her club work outfits, this time a strapless black dress that finished mid thigh and gave her a cleavage that Dylan couldn’t keep his eyes off. She worked it for his benefit, wriggling her shoulders as she loosened his tie and unpopped his top button. A slow, sensual fire licked low in her gut. He looked sexily dishevelled, like the late night bartender in all the best movies.
“Come on birthday boy. Since you haven’t offered me a slice of your birthday cake, I thought you might like to choose yourself a present.”
"No cake," he said. "I don't want you getting a sugar rush and passing out on me."
She trailed his tie over her shoulder as she walked away, not turning because she knew he’d be behind her. She headed towards the boutique, but as they reached reception Dylan drew back, pinning her suddenly against the wall. He held her captive with his body, his hand braced on the bricks beside her head.
“The only good thing about birthdays is the kisses,” he muttered into her open mouth, then kissed her hard and filthy and made her legs weak. She sank her fingernails into the firmness of his ass and yanked him deeper against her, wrapping her leg around his calf.
“I could fuck you now, right here against this wall,” he whispered, putting his hand up her skirt and rubbing her through the silk of her knickers. “Rip these panties right off and slide my cock inside you.” He pulled the silk to one side and pushed his fingers into her folds. He wasn’t delicate, but it didn’t matter because he was a man who knew exactly how to touch a woman. Who knew when to take it slow, and when to come on hard. He found her clitoris without preamble. “You like that, English? You want me to get you off?” He licked into her mouth and slid his fingers inside her, making her yelp. Yes. Yes. Yes.
But… no!
It was his birthday, and from somewhere in the recesses of her mind she dredged the recollection that she wanted to be the giver first, not the receiver. But with every nerve ending in her body wanting the orgasm he was offering her, it was a Herculean task to put the brakes on.
“Dylan…” she regretfully unwound her leg from his and pushed lightly against his chest. He lifted his head a fraction, his hand still between her legs.
“I want to give you something for your birthday first,” she managed, breathless and almost boneless as his fingers stopped thrusting but carried on caressing.
“Watching you come is all I want,” he whispered, playing his fingertips over her clitoris, his body up close and sensual against hers, his breath in her mouth.
She wanted to come. Really wanted to. She was being pinned against the wall by the man who rocked her world, and he was doing things with his fingers that were probably illegal in several countries. She’d never wanted to come that much in her entire life.
Since the last time, at least.
Dylan’s eyes told her that he really wanted her to come too. They were hot, urgent and mesmerizing, locked on hers.
He pressed his weight harder against her, hitching her thighs apart with his own.
“I’ll stop if you want. Just say the word.”
She wanted to say the word. He licked her lips, his fingers sliding in the slick juices between her legs. She wanted to come. No. She wanted him to come first.
“Don’t fight me, baby,” he murmured, and Kara felt the beginnings of her orgasm glitter in her veins.
She didn’t want to fight him. She was seconds away from not being able to fight him.
Stop. Don’t stop. Never stop…
“Stop,” she croaked, pushing him hard enough to dislodge his hand. Her body cried out for him to come back, but he nodded with a slow, quizzical look and straightened her skirt over her thighs.
“You were so close,” he said, pulling her near again. “Drenched.”
She moved, restless. “It’s your birthday. You first.”
“You English and your impeccable manners.”
Kara breathed out shakily. “Trust me, Sailor. I’m right behind you in the queue.”
Chapter Thirty
A couple of minutes later, Kara stood in the centre of the softly lit boutique and twirled slowly on her heel with her arms spread wide. She felt a little more in control of herself now they were on her professional territory.
“Take your pick, birthday boy. Anything you like, my treat.”
“One of everything,” Dylan said, not even glancing around. “Now take your dress off and let me back between your legs. My birthday, my rules. I say you come first.”
Okay, maybe not quite in control.
The urge to strip and open her legs was really quite overpowering. She swallowed hard and moved to stand behind a glass counter for safety. He followed, standing in front of the counter with his head slightly to one side.