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The kind of proud that’s actually a call for help, really.
“How much do you owe?” he asks firmly, making me red in the face as I look down, tracing the sheets with my hands.
I tell him and he makes a low sound, shaking his head.
“We’ll pay your rent, Becky. But I won’t have you out of this house another night. You’re mine now, understand?” he affirms.
I feel my head nod. All the willfulness is gone from me with his strong, deep voice echoing through the room.
Our room now.
The relief that comes from his claim is something that’ll take some getting used to.
But we still have to go back to work at the club, don’t we?
Dillon still has things to fix in his own world, even if I’m a part of it now I still can’t help but feel like I need to do something. To contribute.
“I’ve made some inquiries. A few favors from friends in the security business,” he explains, moving away from me only so as not to be distracted.
I nod in question, and he only hints at how there’s more to the club than just gaming lounges and a bar.
I feel my chest tighten again.
Old habits, I guess.
I tell myself I need my job, that Dillon needs his to stay on probation as well, but his eyes are telling me a different story.
Something bigger than myself that I hope I’ll never have to fully understand. Something that makes me worry for him.
“Just tell me you’ll be careful,” I beg him, chewing my lip, feeling a strange thrill. A mix of worry and admiration for the man.
Knowing full well he can look after himself though.
He gives a knowing look, a firm nod as his chiseled jaw tightens.
“You’ll never have to worry about me,” he promises. “But… We’ll have to keep going to that club, our shitty jobs just for a while yet,” he adds.
My puzzled look makes him tilt his head before flashing a broad smile.
“The courts don’t have all my assets,” he says. Sliding a drawer open, a thick wad of crisp bills with one of his firm fingers reminding me of the fact.
“We’ll pay your rent, get you out of that apartment and pick up your things as well as whatever else you need. How does that sound?” he asks, making everything sound more like a command than a question.
My eyes want to remain fixed on the ream of bills as my head bobs in silent reply. Wondering how come he has so much money.
My heart is fixed on his thick fingers and firm hand, willing my body to make myself his as soon as I can.
Gulping hard at the thought of his real assets. That feeling he gives me. His huge cock inside me making me cream all over it as I shout his name.
That’s what I want, I know it now.
It’s like destiny and I know Dillon can read me like a book.
His age, wisdom, and experience shine through when he tells me to get ready for breakfast, which is really lunch for regular people.
“Unless you need more sleep?” he suggests, looking concerned again, but only for a moment.
“I think we have another big day ahead of us,” I remark, grinning.
“Tomorrow’s off, and Tuesday’s a shorter shift isn’t it?” he asks, which I readily confirm, already thrilled at the idea of a whole day of Dillon to myself after today.
“Then I’ll order us some breakfast,” Dillon announces, looking more pleased with himself as he scopes my chest out as I shift out of bed.
Most of my chest seeming to follow me first, giving him a view I know to be more than what he really wants to eat.
Tonight.
I promise myself, and with my eyes, I promise Dillon.
Tonight, I’ll be yours.
His body seems to know it more than words can say. He grins to himself as he leaves the room telling me everything in reply.
The only answer I need.
I’m his, and once he fixes his little problem. I’m the focus of the rest of our lives if that’s what I want.
And I do want.
I need and want him.
Chapter Sixteen
Dillon
Becky is up, and so am I. And in more ways than one.
If I stay another second in our room I know I won’t be able to control myself, but something tells me tonight is the night.
One more shift. One more day, and I’ll claim her. The day off we’ll have already taking shape in my mind but I have a hunch I know how we’ll probably spend most of it.
Everything else can wait.
The club, getting my business back? That’s a dish best served cold and one day won’t make any difference.
I’ll probably need that extra day to let all the pieces fall how they will to be honest.
I order us breakfast, which is lunch everywhere else. Becky gets it. Working irregular hours makes life different, but I’m glad when she doesn’t buck.
