Dylan never wanted anything as much as she wanted him at the moment.
She tried to determine the best way to get from where they were to
the bedroom. Anthony pulled away, as sad look clouded his eyes. "I
need to go."
"What? You haven't finished your coffee," she said searching for a reason to make him stay longer.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I need to take care of a few things."
"What kind of things?" she asked approaching him. Anthony took a step back from her as she reached out to lay her hand on his arm.
"I leave tomorrow for Bucharest," he said simply, avoiding her eyes.
"You're leaving the country? For how long?" she asked.
"Forever," he replied. Dylan didn't think her heart could break worse than it did in the hospital when he killed Clarke but she was wrong. It was now shattering in her chest. It was all she could do to fight back the tears. "I suppose you are busy then. I'm sorry I kept you. Just let me get dressed and I'll drive you back to your car." Before Anthony could respond she had gone into the bedroom to change.
He looked at her retreating form. "Go to her boy. Love her well," said Dimitri's voice ringing through his head. He shook his head thinking it was only a memory of the man's last words to him. "I told you I would watch out for you. Tell her you love her, in English this time. Just because you want what is best for her doesn't mean you are giving it to her by leaving." He shook his head again and rubbed his ears, he had to be hallucinating. Dimitri was dead and buried. "Yes, I'm buried but I can't rest until you stop being a fool," said the voice of the old Russian. "Trust me Anton; you don't want me haunting you for the rest of your days."
Dylan sat on the bed not yet crying just wondering when everything became complicated. It never seemed to work out how it did in the movies. It was supposed to. She was supposed to tell him she loved him and he was supposed to say the same and they would live happily ever after. She remembered Getty's words to her at the hospital, "You are an heiress now. You don't have to ever settle for second best." She knew he had been trying to make her feel better about the fact that Anthony didn't return to the hospital. She just resented that he had implied that because she wasn't filthy rich she only attracted losers.She slowly removed the robe lost in her thoughts. She never heard Anthony come from the living room and stand in the door way to her room.
"Okay Dimitri, I hope this is enough for you to rest," he thought and approached the bedroom. She had left the door open and he could see her back to him and removing the bathrobe. She untied the belt and let the robe drop in a puddle around her ankles. Then removed the towel her hair was wrapped in and tossed it on the bed. Anthony couldn't believe how beautiful she was as she stood there. She reminded him of "The Birth of Venus" by Botticelli. Her skin was a luminescent, flawless cream. He wanted to reach out and touch her more than he had ever wanted to take her hair.
At his intake of breath at seeing her undressed she grabbed the towel off the bed, quickly wrapped it around herself and turned to him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm s-s-sorry." he stammered and tried to divert his eyes. "I didn't mean to stare." He remembered his nights with Vivian and realized how she was absolutely nothing compared to the angel in front of him. He couldn't keep his eyes diverted for long and looked back at her and saw a tear roll down her cheek. He took a step forward and wiped it away with the ball of his thumb. That only succeeded in making her cry harder. All the pent up anger and hurt finally broke through the wall she had built. "Dylan," he whispered. That is when she slapped him. He looked at her with surprise.
"You are a jerk!" she yelled. "I hate you!" Then she hit him again. He wasn't sure what he did wrong a moment ago she had told him she loved him. Dylan was finally getting her anger out of her system, she dropped the towel and kicked and punched him. He blocked her blows and tried not to deliver any of his own. "You killed him in cold blood!" She kicked. "You never told me you were still alive!" She punched. "You tied me up to the bed at the Chief's" She punched again. "You ripped my hair out!" She kicked. "I told you I loved you and you are leaving anyway!" She punched on more time this one hitting him in the face. He stumbled over a pair of shoes she left in the middle of the floor and fell.
Anthony watched her sit on the bed defeated, looking at him. He stood and brushed himself off. He removed the t-shirt she had loaned him, folded it neatly and placed it on the bed. "If she is that angry at me," he thought heading towards the door to the bathroom, "I'll just leave."
"No, Anton." said Dimitri's voice in his head. "Kiss her."
At the door he stopped, turned and stood in front of the naked angel sitting on the bed. He knelt down in front of her so they were at the same level and kissed her passionately. He could feel her breasts warm and soft against his chest and his hands caressed her back. He could taste the salt of her tears. He reached up and wound the fiery strands of her hair around his fingers as Dylan moaned lightly into his mouth. Suddenly she pulled away looking frightened. "No, I won't do this. I don't want a one afternoon stand."
"Tell her," the ghost whispered in his head.
"Te iu besc, I love you," Anthony said, his voice barely a whisper afraid that she wouldn't believe him, afraid he had waited too long. "I don't want an afternoon stand either."
"That's what this would be though wouldn't it? You are leaving in the morning. You said so yourself."
Anthony shook his head `no'. "No?" asked Dylan unconvinced.
"If you want me to I will stay," he said.
"I didn't want you to kill Clarke but you did it anyway," she argued.
He looked at her sadly and started to turn away again. "Wait," said Dylan. He stopped in his tracks his back towards her, "I want you to stay." He was getting tired of the "go-stay-go" game he felt they were playing. Whatever her next choice was that is what he would do.
He looked at her, gave her one of his patented arched eyebrows and asked, "Are you sure?"
"I might regret it later but I'm sure," she said. Anthony headed for the bathroom. "Where are you going?" she called after him. He smirked at the panic in her voice and removed the ticket from his jacket pocket; it was soaked and pretty much paper pulp. He brought the soggy ticket into the bedroom and handed it to her.
"What is this?" He nodded at her to open it. "Your plane ticket." She said disbelievingly.
"Tear it up. I don't need it," he said. She looked at him skeptically not sure if she should. "I can't," she said.
He swung one of his lanky legs around her so he was seated behind her on the bed. "Together," he whispered in her ear giving her goose bumps. Together they tore the ticket into little damp pieces. "I thought I was going home but I suppose with you I already am," he whispered kissing her neck. Dylan absolutely agreed. This was as close to home as she had ever felt and she didn't want it to end. She turned around and pushed him back on the bed straddling his legs and pinning his arms above his head. "Let me ask just this one last thing. Okay? You are staying in LA and you aren't an assassin, and you love me? I know that was three things but just answer."
Anthony nodded. It was all he could do, she was making him crazy. "Are you sure?" she asked playfully. He nodded harder. "Because if you aren't then." he flipped her over onto the bed so he was on top.
Dylan knew it had been cruel to tease him but she couldn't help it. She wanted him to desire her just as much as she did him. She fumbled with the fastenings of his pants, wanting him to be as naked as she was. He wasn't assisting in anyway. She looked at him and he was shaking his head "no". "No what?" she asked.
"Not yet," he whispered. Dylan had never been one to beg but currently she was on the verge. He began kissing her again, down the side of her neck, the delicate line of her collar bone, her shoulder, moving over to the side of her rib cage kissing each fading bruise that had been left as a reminder of Clarke's fists.
"Anthony," she breathed his name as he moved his mouth to her breasts, kissing each in turn and working his way lower. It was too much for her to take. Just the feeling of his breath on her body and the barely there touches of his lips were drove her over the edge. Her release came with a blinding force. Anthony looked at her stunned. Dylan gave him a lazy smile. "That was incredible." He looked at her doubtfully as Vivian had been very critical. Dylan sat up and managed to get his pants undone. "We aren't finished yet."
*-*-*-*-*
Natalie and Alex pulled up in front of the beach house around seven in the evening. "It really isn't like Dylan. She said she wanted to go get new furniture. Then she leaves us waiting." said Alex.
Natalie looked worriedly at Alex. "You don't think something happened to her at the funeral do you? Mr. Getty said she didn't answer her cell or the regular house number. That is why I insisted we drive out here. Maybe someone else from that gang that attacked the scientist showed up."
"Okay let's go check on her. She probably fell asleep, she is still recovering," said Alex climbing out of the car. The two angels walked up to the rain slicked sidewalk to the door and knocked. There was no answer. "Knock again." Natalie knocked again. Still no one answered?
"Do you have a key?" Natalie asked Alex who was already digging though her purse.
"Of course I do. I have one for each of you, just in case," she said removing a key tagged "Dylan". She placed the key in the lock and turned it. The tumblers rotated and the lock opened.
Anthony heard a noise outside and opened his eyes and looked at the woman curled up next to him with her head on his chest. He wondered if being with Dylan was what happiness was. He had never been truly happy before at least not in the way he was with her. He heard the noise again. He slipped out of be carefully as not to wake Dylan and pulled his pants on as he did so he heard the lock click open. He walked into the living room and face to face with Natalie and Alex.
"You?" asked Alex in surprise. Anthony waited to see if she was going to attack, but she didn't she just stared at him in surprise. Natalie had a huge grin plastered to her face. It made him uncomfortable. He walked over to the coffee table and picked up his cigarette case and lit one. "Where is Dylan?" Alex demanded to know.
Dylan appeared in the doorway wrapped in a sheet her hair a mess and her eyes ringed with black mascara that ran from her crying. "Oh. hi.." she said sheepishly a bit embarrassed by her state.
Natalie looked from the Thin Man to her best friend. "I guess you forgot about going to Ikea," she said still smiling smile.
"Yeah," she said blushing. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Anthony. "I guess I don't need a new mattress after all."
"What? You haven't finished your coffee," she said searching for a reason to make him stay longer.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I need to take care of a few things."
"What kind of things?" she asked approaching him. Anthony took a step back from her as she reached out to lay her hand on his arm.
"I leave tomorrow for Bucharest," he said simply, avoiding her eyes.
"You're leaving the country? For how long?" she asked.
"Forever," he replied. Dylan didn't think her heart could break worse than it did in the hospital when he killed Clarke but she was wrong. It was now shattering in her chest. It was all she could do to fight back the tears. "I suppose you are busy then. I'm sorry I kept you. Just let me get dressed and I'll drive you back to your car." Before Anthony could respond she had gone into the bedroom to change.
He looked at her retreating form. "Go to her boy. Love her well," said Dimitri's voice ringing through his head. He shook his head thinking it was only a memory of the man's last words to him. "I told you I would watch out for you. Tell her you love her, in English this time. Just because you want what is best for her doesn't mean you are giving it to her by leaving." He shook his head again and rubbed his ears, he had to be hallucinating. Dimitri was dead and buried. "Yes, I'm buried but I can't rest until you stop being a fool," said the voice of the old Russian. "Trust me Anton; you don't want me haunting you for the rest of your days."
Dylan sat on the bed not yet crying just wondering when everything became complicated. It never seemed to work out how it did in the movies. It was supposed to. She was supposed to tell him she loved him and he was supposed to say the same and they would live happily ever after. She remembered Getty's words to her at the hospital, "You are an heiress now. You don't have to ever settle for second best." She knew he had been trying to make her feel better about the fact that Anthony didn't return to the hospital. She just resented that he had implied that because she wasn't filthy rich she only attracted losers.She slowly removed the robe lost in her thoughts. She never heard Anthony come from the living room and stand in the door way to her room.
"Okay Dimitri, I hope this is enough for you to rest," he thought and approached the bedroom. She had left the door open and he could see her back to him and removing the bathrobe. She untied the belt and let the robe drop in a puddle around her ankles. Then removed the towel her hair was wrapped in and tossed it on the bed. Anthony couldn't believe how beautiful she was as she stood there. She reminded him of "The Birth of Venus" by Botticelli. Her skin was a luminescent, flawless cream. He wanted to reach out and touch her more than he had ever wanted to take her hair.
At his intake of breath at seeing her undressed she grabbed the towel off the bed, quickly wrapped it around herself and turned to him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm s-s-sorry." he stammered and tried to divert his eyes. "I didn't mean to stare." He remembered his nights with Vivian and realized how she was absolutely nothing compared to the angel in front of him. He couldn't keep his eyes diverted for long and looked back at her and saw a tear roll down her cheek. He took a step forward and wiped it away with the ball of his thumb. That only succeeded in making her cry harder. All the pent up anger and hurt finally broke through the wall she had built. "Dylan," he whispered. That is when she slapped him. He looked at her with surprise.
"You are a jerk!" she yelled. "I hate you!" Then she hit him again. He wasn't sure what he did wrong a moment ago she had told him she loved him. Dylan was finally getting her anger out of her system, she dropped the towel and kicked and punched him. He blocked her blows and tried not to deliver any of his own. "You killed him in cold blood!" She kicked. "You never told me you were still alive!" She punched. "You tied me up to the bed at the Chief's" She punched again. "You ripped my hair out!" She kicked. "I told you I loved you and you are leaving anyway!" She punched on more time this one hitting him in the face. He stumbled over a pair of shoes she left in the middle of the floor and fell.
Anthony watched her sit on the bed defeated, looking at him. He stood and brushed himself off. He removed the t-shirt she had loaned him, folded it neatly and placed it on the bed. "If she is that angry at me," he thought heading towards the door to the bathroom, "I'll just leave."
"No, Anton." said Dimitri's voice in his head. "Kiss her."
At the door he stopped, turned and stood in front of the naked angel sitting on the bed. He knelt down in front of her so they were at the same level and kissed her passionately. He could feel her breasts warm and soft against his chest and his hands caressed her back. He could taste the salt of her tears. He reached up and wound the fiery strands of her hair around his fingers as Dylan moaned lightly into his mouth. Suddenly she pulled away looking frightened. "No, I won't do this. I don't want a one afternoon stand."
"Tell her," the ghost whispered in his head.
"Te iu besc, I love you," Anthony said, his voice barely a whisper afraid that she wouldn't believe him, afraid he had waited too long. "I don't want an afternoon stand either."
"That's what this would be though wouldn't it? You are leaving in the morning. You said so yourself."
Anthony shook his head `no'. "No?" asked Dylan unconvinced.
"If you want me to I will stay," he said.
"I didn't want you to kill Clarke but you did it anyway," she argued.
He looked at her sadly and started to turn away again. "Wait," said Dylan. He stopped in his tracks his back towards her, "I want you to stay." He was getting tired of the "go-stay-go" game he felt they were playing. Whatever her next choice was that is what he would do.
He looked at her, gave her one of his patented arched eyebrows and asked, "Are you sure?"
"I might regret it later but I'm sure," she said. Anthony headed for the bathroom. "Where are you going?" she called after him. He smirked at the panic in her voice and removed the ticket from his jacket pocket; it was soaked and pretty much paper pulp. He brought the soggy ticket into the bedroom and handed it to her.
"What is this?" He nodded at her to open it. "Your plane ticket." She said disbelievingly.
"Tear it up. I don't need it," he said. She looked at him skeptically not sure if she should. "I can't," she said.
He swung one of his lanky legs around her so he was seated behind her on the bed. "Together," he whispered in her ear giving her goose bumps. Together they tore the ticket into little damp pieces. "I thought I was going home but I suppose with you I already am," he whispered kissing her neck. Dylan absolutely agreed. This was as close to home as she had ever felt and she didn't want it to end. She turned around and pushed him back on the bed straddling his legs and pinning his arms above his head. "Let me ask just this one last thing. Okay? You are staying in LA and you aren't an assassin, and you love me? I know that was three things but just answer."
Anthony nodded. It was all he could do, she was making him crazy. "Are you sure?" she asked playfully. He nodded harder. "Because if you aren't then." he flipped her over onto the bed so he was on top.
Dylan knew it had been cruel to tease him but she couldn't help it. She wanted him to desire her just as much as she did him. She fumbled with the fastenings of his pants, wanting him to be as naked as she was. He wasn't assisting in anyway. She looked at him and he was shaking his head "no". "No what?" she asked.
"Not yet," he whispered. Dylan had never been one to beg but currently she was on the verge. He began kissing her again, down the side of her neck, the delicate line of her collar bone, her shoulder, moving over to the side of her rib cage kissing each fading bruise that had been left as a reminder of Clarke's fists.
"Anthony," she breathed his name as he moved his mouth to her breasts, kissing each in turn and working his way lower. It was too much for her to take. Just the feeling of his breath on her body and the barely there touches of his lips were drove her over the edge. Her release came with a blinding force. Anthony looked at her stunned. Dylan gave him a lazy smile. "That was incredible." He looked at her doubtfully as Vivian had been very critical. Dylan sat up and managed to get his pants undone. "We aren't finished yet."
*-*-*-*-*
Natalie and Alex pulled up in front of the beach house around seven in the evening. "It really isn't like Dylan. She said she wanted to go get new furniture. Then she leaves us waiting." said Alex.
Natalie looked worriedly at Alex. "You don't think something happened to her at the funeral do you? Mr. Getty said she didn't answer her cell or the regular house number. That is why I insisted we drive out here. Maybe someone else from that gang that attacked the scientist showed up."
"Okay let's go check on her. She probably fell asleep, she is still recovering," said Alex climbing out of the car. The two angels walked up to the rain slicked sidewalk to the door and knocked. There was no answer. "Knock again." Natalie knocked again. Still no one answered?
"Do you have a key?" Natalie asked Alex who was already digging though her purse.
"Of course I do. I have one for each of you, just in case," she said removing a key tagged "Dylan". She placed the key in the lock and turned it. The tumblers rotated and the lock opened.
Anthony heard a noise outside and opened his eyes and looked at the woman curled up next to him with her head on his chest. He wondered if being with Dylan was what happiness was. He had never been truly happy before at least not in the way he was with her. He heard the noise again. He slipped out of be carefully as not to wake Dylan and pulled his pants on as he did so he heard the lock click open. He walked into the living room and face to face with Natalie and Alex.
"You?" asked Alex in surprise. Anthony waited to see if she was going to attack, but she didn't she just stared at him in surprise. Natalie had a huge grin plastered to her face. It made him uncomfortable. He walked over to the coffee table and picked up his cigarette case and lit one. "Where is Dylan?" Alex demanded to know.
Dylan appeared in the doorway wrapped in a sheet her hair a mess and her eyes ringed with black mascara that ran from her crying. "Oh. hi.." she said sheepishly a bit embarrassed by her state.
Natalie looked from the Thin Man to her best friend. "I guess you forgot about going to Ikea," she said still smiling smile.
"Yeah," she said blushing. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Anthony. "I guess I don't need a new mattress after all."