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Even though it’s a weekend I find it stranger still that the next call I get is from my probation officer.
But I can’t say it’s totally unexpected.
“Dillon? It’s Brad Chambers. Hope I didn’t wake you?” He starts out.
The tone of his voice telling me it’s exactly why he’s calling so early on a Sunday.
“Not at all, I was just about to—” I start, wanting to explain my punching bag routine before he cuts me off.
“I’ll cut to the chase, Dillon,” he snaps over me.
“The first day on a court ordered job that sees you threaten to beat a person is a one-way ticket to a room of your own in a very big house with lots of locks, understand?”
I let out a low growl, reminding myself that just for now, I still have to play nice with authority.
The call from my probation officer isn’t a surprise after last night.
Chad was right and so’s my gut.
Sawyer and the probation office have a good thing going it seems.
My jaw tightens again, and I feel my lip curl as I watch Becky shift in her sleep again, rolling onto her side and giving me a full view of what I know this is really all about from now on.
Just enough bedding shifts to let me see her sweet ass and pussy as she moans quietly to herself.
That dream I hope she’s in intensifying.
“I understand. Perfectly,” I rasp, freeing my thick dick from under my robe before hanging up.
Feeling myself whole again as I watch over her.
My real reason for everything from now on.
My Becky.
Chapter Fifteen
Becky
Late nights mean I always sleep late but knowing I’m with Dillon now makes me want to be awake for more of him.
Hearing his deep voice fill the room as I sleep is a hook I can’t help but bite.
His heavy strokes on a keyboard bring me back from sleep. Back from the dream where I know he finally claimed me, a shiver running through me as I struggle to recall the details.
Living for the real thing now.
A dream come true because that’s what the man is.
I stretch and yawn quietly, not wanting to disturb him but he lets out a low sound of disapproval.
Like he’s done something wrong by waking me.
“You should be asleep,” he says firmly but cocks a brow smiling once he sees me propped up on one elbow. Half of my chest I can’t contain, spilling out from his robe I still have on.
A tangled mess under the sheets really, but I didn’t want to be without it.
His scent. His manliness all over it, wrapping me up and giving me the best sleep I know I’ve had ever.
“And when do you sleep?” I ask, hearing that sass in my own voice I know he enjoys already.
Watching his lip curl into a wry smile when he tells me he couldn’t sleep.
Being so close to me unclaimed. Not a hundred percent his.
I flush visibly, feeling my hands tremble as I tell Dillon again that I want to. Because I do.
“I- I really wanted to, last night,” I stammer, but he’s already walking over to the bed, standing over me and stroking my hair back.
“I know you do, and this is waiting for you whenever you’re ready,” he growls gently with a knowing look, sliding my hand under his robe.
Letting me feel his stiffness under my touch as I gasp. The warmth of him, his constant arousal already waiting for me as he grows hard for me again.
His eyes burning into mine.
“It won’t be long, I- I promise.” I shudder, rejecting my urge not to stroke his manhood. Yearning for his touch already, his taste all over me again.
Remembering the heat of his come on my chest. His strong hands in my hair as I made him feel just a thousandth of what he does to me by simply breathing.
“That’s all I need for now,” he says, leaning down and almost kissing me but stopping himself.
I remember what he said about kissing me.
About not being able to stop if he started.
“You’ve been busy,” I observe, having noticed him at his desk, papers, phone, and laptop at the ready.
His brow crease as he explains.
“Just doing what I can to get my old life back. This business with Sawyer and that club runs deep. So deep I actually think I was sent there for a reason,” he says thoughtfully.
I feel my chest tighten, knowing we both have to go back. He for his own reasons and me for mine.
The image of my landlord making me feel uneasy so early in the day.
“I need to go home, at some point. To get some clothes at least.” I hear myself tell him, watching his brow crease further, darkening.
“Last night… Everything was great, but I can’t just let you carry me, Dillon,” I explain. “I need to pay rent. To pay my own way,” I add, proud.
