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“Nah uh,” she giggles, impishly slapping my wandering hand away. “Until you bare your soul for me, you never get to touch me again.”
“Jesus, Dakota,” I growl. “Don’t you think that’s a little rough?”
“I think I’ve made myself clear,” she laughs.
“Clear as a goddamn knife to the heart,” I say, smirking despite myself. “I’ve never talked about this before. Well, except with my aunt and Sparky. But then … not this, not what I—”
I stop, some sort of mental block rising in me, making it difficult to push out the remainder of the words. I laugh at the absurd effort of it, far more difficult than any weights I’ve ever lifted, any men I’ve ever fought.
Dakota takes my face in her hands and guides my gaze to hers, staring sternly.
“Mister, it’d be one thing if you genuinely didn’t want to talk about this. But I can tell that you do and you’re stopping yourself. What is it, macho pride? Or something else?”
“Something else, I think,” I say, a volcanic quaver in my voice. “I just …”
“It’s hard?”
“Yeah,” I admit.
“Well, I’m right here.”
I grab her hips and move against her, making her feel my solid slab of manhood through my pants and her skirt. She might think she has the power right now, but the dampness of her crotch tells me the truth, that she’s just as boiling-horny hot as I am right now.
“I can feel that,” I tell her.
“Hey, what did I say about touching?”
I smirk. “Tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop.”
She brings her face close to mine. “I like it,” she whispers. “But I also want you to feel like you can talk to me.”
A pause. A challenge.
And I find myself accepting.
“It’s just … it was a stupid mistake, Felix made,” I growl, the force of my words shocking even myself. “It was a simple job. This bastard ran a money laundering operation. To the outside world, he was a bar owner and the leader of some two-bit biker gang. In reality, he worked for the Mexican Cartel and he was ingratiating himself into the town so that they could set up more money-laundering operations. So all Felix had to do is wait—just fucking wait for the bastard to close up, go to bed, sneak in there, get the job done.”
“What did he do instead?” Dakota murmurs.
“He went in there when the place was open,” I say, my voice coated in bitter acid. “He marched in there and confronted the guy and had the whole place on him in two seconds flat. It was stupid and—and Jesus Christ, Dakota. I’ve never said this before, but I think he wanted to die. I think that was his way of opting out. He let the life get to him. Maybe that’s why I was going to retire after this job. Maybe that’s why I bought the farm.”
“The farm?”
“Well, a property in California. Don’t think I’ll do much farming. Maybe I’ll open a gym. I don’t know. Hey.” I pause, turning to face Dakota again. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you, on the farm?”
“Damian, are you asking me to move to California with you when this is all over?”
I smirk, stroking her face, feeling the shape of her smile.
“Yeah, it looks like I am.”
“Then the answer is obviously yes,” she says. “And thank you. For sharing with me. I know it was hard for you.”
“Yeah, I guess when you’re on your own long enough, you start to forget what it’s like,” I say. “But even that’s bullshit. I don’t think I could talk to anyone apart from you.”
She wriggles against me, her ass cheeks clutching at my cock.
“Now who’s breaking the rule?” I smirk.
“Damian,” she whispers.
There’s something in the way she whispers, the singsong quality of it.
“Yes?” I growl, hardly daring to hope.
“After dinner … you know, I think we should—” She giggles. “I’m ready, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
I grab her hips and pull her down so that there’s as little space as possible between her fine ass cheeks and my throbbing cock.
“Hallelujah,” I growl, bringing my lips to her neck.
The knock at the door interrupts me.
“Well,” Dakota says. “I did say after dinner, right? And that smells delicious.”
“You can smell it from here?”
“Can’t you?”
“No,” I say. “The only thing I can smell is that hot tangy pussy of yours.”
She flushes and wriggles out of my lap – probably knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop myself otherwise – and I walk to the door and get the food.
Sparky trails after me, alert to the scent of the steaks. Once I collect them, I have to admit that she’s right.
They do smell pretty damn good.
Chapter Twenty
Dakota
I walk into the bedroom with his hands at my hips, one hand leaving me for a bare moment to shut the door. Sparky is lying in a heap in the dining room, under the table with several cushions he’s claimed and definitely will try to take with him when we leave.
