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“Fuck, babe. You don’t need to tell me the rest,” I say, knowing where this is leading. I don’t want her to have to relive it again.
“No, I need to tell you,” Dani insists, squeezing my hand. “I want you to understand me and to know why I have such a hard time letting you get close.”
I give her a nod and pull her against me once again.
“Okay,” Dani breathes, tears welling in her green eyes. “So, I asked him about the girl and he lost his shit, saying he fucks her because I’m a whore and that it’s my fault I wasn’t woman enough for him. He had been drinking and we got into this huge fight. I said I was going to leave. I’d had enough of his bullshit, so I went to start packing . . .” she pauses, taking a breath. “He grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back to him, saying I was his and wasn’t leaving until he was through with me.”
Dani wipes at her eyes and continues. “I broke free of his hold and started packing anyway. There was no way I was staying there with him. He must have thought I was just cooling off in our room, and when he walked in to find me ready to leave, he lost it. He didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself, just reared back and let his fist do the talking. He stopped immediately, realizing what he’d done, and began apologizing, but there was no going back for me. He’d already put me through hell, and I wasn’t sticking around for more. So I left and moved in here with Sophie.”
She sits in silence beside me, and I grab her around the waist to pull her up onto my lap. “You’re more than woman enough for me,” I promise her. “You’re fucking everything.”
Dani wraps her arms around me and nuzzles her face into my neck, and I feel her smile against my skin. I can’t help but hold her tight, content to sit here outside her home for the rest of my life.
We sit in silence for a short while before I realize she’s fallen asleep, and a soft smile spreads across my lips. Scooping her up in my arms, I make my way inside and down to her room before slipping her under her blankets. I watch her a moment before realizing I’m being a fucking creeper and turn to leave when her soft whisper fills the room. “Stay with me.”
Her words are like music to my ears, but I shake my head. “God, babe. Don’t tempt me,” I beg her. “You have no idea how badly I want to spend the night with you, but I know you’ll regret that decision in the morning.”
“I know,” she admits. “But stay anyway.”
I walk over to her bed and lean down over her. “Goodnight, sweet girl,” I say, pressing my lips to hers.
Dani grabs me and moans against my lips, melting into my kiss as she tries to pull me down to her. “Please, I need you,” she says, gripping the fabric of my shirt and trying to pull it up my body.
“Not tonight, babe,” I smirk, hating myself for being such a fucking moron. “Try me again tomorrow when you haven’t drunk the whole bar.”
“Fine,” she grumbles, gripping her blankets and pulling them up to her shoulders. I press my lips to hers once more and get the softest kiss in return before making my way back to her door. And just as the door is about to close between us, I hear a devilish purr coming from her room behind me. “I guess I’ll have to take care of it myself.”
My dick hardens painfully in my pants, the worst kind of punishment for leaving her high and dry. Though from the sound of it, my girl is soaking wet.
Closing the door behind me, I mentally scold myself while I walk out of her home, and as I hear her muffled moans and the sound of my name on her lips, I know without a doubt that I will never walk away from this girl.
Chapter 11
Danielle
“Shit, babe, you’ve got to wake up,” Sophie laughs as she launches herself onto my bed.
“Go away,” I groan, attempting to push her off.
“Hell no, you’ve got to see this,” she says, still in a fit of laughter as she thrusts her phone toward my face.
I squint up at the morning light as a killer hangover makes itself known. A collection of horrendous memories come crashing through my mind, and I start to feel the uneasy ache in my stomach needing to eject last night’s mistakes.
Sitting up in bed, I rub my hands down my face and grab her phone, trying to figure out what’s got her all worked up at such an ungodly hour. Focusing on what she’s so desperate to show me, I find the Dragons’ Facebook page staring back at me with a photo of myself dancing on the bar in nothing but a Dragon’s jersey, the name CAIN written across the back. My stomach drops, and I glance down at the caption; ‘Cain’s number one girl’.
