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“I guess I haven’t told you everything about me either,” he smiles, giving a single dry laugh.
“I own or rather owned a big security company. This truck and the house is all I’ve managed to keep hold of, and even that could change any day now,” he says looking past me, out into the night.
It starts to rain, but I can’t hear it inside the truck.
“What happened?” I ask, more than curious now. A lot like Dillon, I need to know everything now. Half-stories or little cryptic comments just won’t wash anymore.
I totally get that and decide to tell him everything.
But I want him to go first.
“You go first,” he says, cocking a brow. An impish grin spreading across his lips.
The first real smile I’ve seen from him, and it makes me smile too.
Even though I’ve been dreading telling him, telling anyone.
There’s no real way I can keep something like this from him, is there?
Chapter Ten
Dillon
If I’m short with her, a little angry even. It’s because I’m fucking pissed.
Pissed I didn’t meet her sooner.
Mad as hell she’s been struggling to survive in this big bad world all on her own while I’ve been living the good life.
Until recently anyway.
My queen, all alone out there, eating leftovers from some shitty club out of a paper sack.
Fuck. The anger inside is almost unbearable. Makes white heat lava boil in my veins when I think of it.
I hate the world for putting her in that position, but I thank it at the same time, for bringing her to me just in time to make all the difference.
To rescue her myself.
We can be together because she’s mine now. I might have to tell her a thousand times before it clicks. But showing by example is maybe easier, so no going ‘home’ for her. Not the home she’s probably used to anyhow.
If she’s used to eating scraps from a bag I don’t even want to see where she’s been calling home.
No more eating out of paper sacks or worrying about money or worrying about anything.
“You’re mine now,” I tell her again, reminding her to tell me her own big secret after sharing just a fraction of my own complicated situation, but she’s still hesitant.
I’ll get her fed, then bred, and then straight to bed.
Once she’s rested up she can tell me everything, once she’s been claimed good and proper of course.
Once she’s fully mine, filled until she’s overflowing with my seed, I reason to myself silently.
What matters most is getting her some good food and the real nourishment she needs, my seed in her, making those babies I know she’s been having fantasies about since she knew she could make them.
“Cold or hot?” I ask her, starting my truck. Satisfied we’ve covered some ground at least.
“Huh?” she asks, confused.
“Food. Cold or hot. What do you want?” I ask again, but already decided for her.
“Both,” I tell her. “I know an all-night place that does good food to go.”
“Does it come in a paper sack?” she asks dryly, but I have to laugh.
“You’ve got some sass, haven’t you?” I ask, making the observation more than asking her.
“You threw away my dinner and now you want to waste money on more is all I’m saying,” she retorts, making me ask her what was so special about that greasy looking sack of kitchen scraps she almost walked home with.
“Lasagna,” she says, sounding wounded but can’t hide her smile after she says the word.
I quickly check my mirrors then hit the brakes, making the truck skid to a dramatic halt.
I cover her thick chest with my arm so she doesn’t lurch forward, and feeling her heart starting to race, I exclaim, “Lasagna! Then why didn’t you say so?” I cry out, shifting into reverse as I announce jokingly that we’ll have to go back and get it from the trash.
It takes a moment before she realizes I’m only kidding.
“You have a warped sense of humor, Dillon,” she remarks, grabbing my arm and holding it to her chest for just a moment or two longer. Stroking my arm with both her small hands.
Making my dick so hard in a short series of quickening heartbeats I almost forget how to drive let alone what lasagna even is anymore.
“We could skip the whole dinner thing,” she suggests, making my eyes meet hers dramatically in the rearview.
“No. You won’t.” I instruct her firmly.
“You’ll need your strength, I can assure you,” I add, softening my tone but still meaning it. No girl of mine is gonna skimp out on meals or anything else.
Especially the anything else, which tonight involves her coming on my face until she can’t anymore and then me showing her how many more times she really can come still, using my cock instead.
The inside of the truck’s big for her, but I fill most of it and she lets her hand fall casually onto my leg, which I move a little further up my thigh.
