Revenge #4 Read Free Page B

by a black car, squealing its tires crossing a lane. The car squeals to a stop in the taxi pick-up zone.
    “The guy knows how to make an entrance,” I mutter under my breath.
    Dylan Wolf, looking like a star as always, jumps out of the driver’s side. He comes around to open my door, taking me in with his devilish brown eyes.
    “You look good enough to eat,” he says. “Did you wear that all day?”
    “Maybe.” I flutter my eyelashes and run my hands over the sapphire blue wrap dress I’m wearing.
    He leans forward and sniffs my shoulder, which is odd, but I don’t mind. Laughing, I ask what he’s doing.
    “New fabric,” he says knowingly. “Were you shopping on your lunch break?”
    My mouth drops open, and I stammer out, “Uhh, no!”
    He chuckles and holds my door open as I slide into the leather seat.
    Damn him for being so perceptive and figuring out my secret. I did go shopping on my lunch break. My clothes from home aren’t cute enough for dates, and the new pink clothes Morris Music paid for are too pink.
    He gets in the driver’s side and eases into traffic slowly. He grins over at me, as if to say, how’s my driving?
    I tilt my head over and sniff the shoulder of my dress. He catches me doing this and laughs.
    “The fabric doesn’t smell,” he says. “I was just messing with your head. You forgot to cut the tag off, and it’s hanging from your left elbow.”
    I curse the tag and yank it off the dress, my cheeks flushing.
    He changes lanes, signaling and driving safely. Now that I’m in the car, he’s being careful. He might even be going slower than everyone around us, but I’m not going to complain. The first time I was in his car, I was sure the ride would end with us getting T-boned.
    He’s still grinning, like he’s proud of himself for getting me flustered about my dress being new.
    “You’re such a tease,” I say. “You’ll do anything to get a reaction from people, won’t you?”
    He keeps his attention on the road. “The way I see it, we all have the same number of hours in a day. Every human on this planet. There aren’t enough hours to waste on being bored.”
    I let out a sharp laugh, “Hah! You wouldn’t last five minutes at my job in the archives.”
    “And how long were you there today?”
    “Eight horrible hours.”
    “Poor baby.” He pouts his lips out, making fun of me, and reaches over to pat my leg. “I’ll put in a good word for you on Friday. I’m coming in for a meeting.”
    I suck in my breath. “Is this the BIG meeting?”
    “They’re acting like it’s just to hear the new songs. But Q says they’ll make the offer.”
    “It’s all happening so fast.” My heart sinks as I imagine the worst happening, and them not offering him a deal.
    “And then, after I sign my contract, I’ll take care of you. I’ll tell them they’re wasting one of their top resources. The smartest, cutest employee shouldn’t be in the basement. What floor have you got your eye on? Ninth floor?”
    “God, no!”
    Dylan doesn’t know, but the ninth floor is where Stephanie works, pimping out girls as Eye Candy.
    “What’s wrong with the ninth floor?” he asks.
    “The eighth floor would be perfect. That’s marketing.”
    “Marketing it is.” His hand is still on my leg, slowly moving up my thigh. He pushes the sapphire blue fabric of my skirt up, so his palm is on my bare skin. His touch is making me lose my place in my thoughts.
    “Don’t get too comfortable,” he says.
    “What?”
    Does he mean I shouldn’t enjoy his hand on my leg? Because I’m enjoying it. All afternoon, the soft fabric of my dress has been whispering around my thighs. I’ve imagined Dylan’s hands slipping under this dress about a thousand times, and now it’s happening.
    “Don’t get too comfortable on the eighth floor,” he says. “Because you’ll have to take some time off.”
    Still looking at the road, he leans over toward my side. He slips his fingers between my thighs