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the door behind him as he moved. “You’re okay,

baby. I’ve got you.” He was moving through the house and her head was

buried in his neck, sobbing. He sat, he held her and he didn’t move. He

hushed her quietly and she slowly drifted to sleep in Dillon’s arms as he

cradled her on his lap.

Chapter Eighteen

 

She woke to the sound of movement in the kitchen. She was on the couch—which was likely a good thing considering it was easy to clean leather—and she’d not changed clothes. Her clothes were caked in dry blood and what wasn’t bloody was covered in dirt and grime. When she

looked to the kitchen he was there, watching her. She crawled from the

couch and started moving toward him. Her stomach was fluttering with

butterflies and she couldn’t quite make out his mood.

“Thought we weren’t supposed to see each other.” She was trying to

be funny, likely doing a piss-poor job of it but it was the intention.

His intense stare was all the response she got.

She rounded the counter to be closer to him and he looked her up and

down. She knew she looked like hell. The cleanest part of her was the shirt they’d given her at the hospital to replace the camisole that had been destroyed in the struggle.

“Are we supposed to be doing this?”

She got an answer this time. “No.”

“Then—”

“You could have died.” His expression hadn’t softened an ounce. He

didn’t seem mad, nor happy, just unreadable.

“But I didn’t.”

“You could have.” His voice rose to a demanding volume.

Unreadable had turned to anger in a flash.

“So is that why you’re here? To yell at me?”

His face softened marginally and a subtle humorless smirk took over

his mouth. “No. I intend to make love to you too but I thought I’d get the

yelling out of the way first.”

She gasped even as her body flushed with warmth. “I really wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. But it doesn’t change the fact you made a stupid decision that nearly cost you your life.”

He might not be yelling but he also wasn’t biting his tongue. “I’m exceptionally angry, Katrina. You can’t imagine how angry I am.” He watched her seriously and she stood like a sullen child in front of him.

“I’m also exceptionally relieved. Now you look like you need a shower and I’ve been waiting to see just how stunning you are under those clothes of yours for far too long.”

She couldn’t seem to stop gasping at everything the man said. She’d

not thought she’d see him again, certainly not in this context but here he

was standing in front of her, irritated at her stupidity but with her. He wasn’t pushing her away, he wasn’t telling her what they couldn’t do together. In fact, quite the opposite—he was giving in and he was making it clear he intended to.

“Hate to break it to you but what’s under these clothes isn’t much to

see at the moment.” She tried to soften his harsh demeanor but she was

all nerves at the moment.

He chuckled quietly as he took her hand. “Where’s your shower?”

She trembled but she led him upstairs to the spare bedroom with

attached bathroom. Nervous was an understatement. She’d been

obsessing about this for too long and now when she looked like a disaster he was ready. She’d prefer to be newly plucked, waxed and not

have dirt and grime covering ninety percent of her body—but beggars couldn’t be choosers and all that. And she was ready too—more than ready.

 

Her fingers were trembling within his and his body was pulsing with

need. The incredible drive to possess her and have her set in the moment

he heard Stephens utter the words, “She’s going to be fine.” He wasn’t actually convinced of that until she opened the door and he was able to

get his hands on her but once she was in his arms, he’d decided—

reckless as the decision might be—that he was done staying away.

He sat holding her on the couch in the living room nearly all night long. He dozed with his forehead resting against hers but he refused to

lay her down or separate himself from her body. When his muscles

started to ache and he couldn’t ignore it any longer, he laid her gently on

the sofa, covered her with a blanket and started the kettle. He needed coffee but while he found a coffeemaker and the grounds he never did

find the coffeepot that went with it.

Kitty circled his feet as he waited for her to wake and once he saw her

shifting around on the couch, his groin tightened and the possessive need sank back into his body again. He was furious. Irritation and anger

were roiling under the surface but it was eclipsed so effectively by his lust, need and absolute relief. He didn’t want to do anything but get his

hands on her, get his mouth on her, get his fucking dick inside her.

Now he was trailing her up the stairs, taking in the dirt and blood-streaked clothing she was wearing. He wanted her out of them. Just seeing the blood left his heart pounding and his brain buzzing with terror.

Stephens had sent him a text message once she’d left the hospital.

Stephens knew Terrell well enough to know the man would keep him in

the loop if he asked and Stephens, for some reason Dillon hadn’t yet figured out, was using that connection for Dillon’s benefit.

One cab ride later and a bit of covert maneuvering to keep himself hidden from the patrol car that was driving by constantly and he had her

in his arms where he needed her to be.

She didn’t stop trembling and as he reached in and started the faucet

in the massive walk-in shower, she stood by the counter waiting.

“Undress.” He held her eyes as her trembles turned to violent shakes.

Part of him wanted to help her, ease her in some way but part of him wanted her uncomfortable. He was still angry after all and while he intended to make sure they both enjoyed this, he still wanted her to understand just how furious he was. It was an odd combination of need

and fury.

She stripped the shirt off over her head. She was braless and his eyes

moved instantly to her breast covered in butterfly bandages. Dillon was

lacking on the details and while he knew she’d been choked, had some

minor cuts, scuffs and bruises, he’d not quite imagined this.

What he saw was done quite intentionally. There was nothing

haphazard about it. The straight precise lines could have been made with

a scalpel and as he took in the damage, swallowing became painful and

his throat constricted. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his and she stared at his

chest.

“How did that happen?” His voice was lurching as he spoke. She had

exceptionally beautiful breasts with small pink nipples and he wanted to be focusing on only that but the red slashes across her skin were impossible to ignore.

“He cut me with something. I’m not sure what. The doctor literally glued the skin back together. Kinda wild.” She laughed but it was nervous and he swore her eyes filled with tears even as she laughed. He

caved in and walked to her, pulling her into his arms.

“I really am incredibly angry with you.” She nodded against his chest.

“If you’re ever so careless with your life again, I promise you I’m going

to yell but right now I just can’t.”

He leaned to her neck and kissed her as his hands traveled down to

the waist of her jeans. He undid the button and lowered the zipper as her

stomach muscles twitched and trembled beneath his knuckles. He could

see the large scuff that ran up her shoulder in the mirror behind her and

her lower back look bruised and scraped. When he pushed her jeans down her hips and let them drop, he nearly choked at the sight of her bottom.

It was pristine and beautiful. She had an incredibly small waist and a

lovely round bottom that was perfectly toned. Her skin was milky-

smooth and pale and his cock was flexing and fighting to get free. There

was nothing more stunning than the sight of her. His hands held her still

at her waist and he just stared. He’d assumed she had a nice figure but it

was something else finally getting her out of her clothes and seeing just

how incredible her pale smooth skin and perfectly curved figure was.

“Get in.” It was little more than a whisper when he spoke and she walked from him to the enclosure. He undressed quickly and when he entered after her, she was standing under the large showerhead with her

face angled up to the water and her eyes closed. She ran her hands through her hair and he stood against the far wall with his arms crossed

simply watching.

His gaze found her sex. He’d not gotten his eyes on that part of her yet and he was just as captured by the sight of the small lips of her sex as he’d been by the sight of her ass. She kept herself completely shaved and

it left nothing to the imagination, except perhaps what the silken skin between those lips would feel like and taste like.

She caught him staring and her pale cheeks blushed crimson as his

eyes met hers. But then her gaze started traveling every inch of his body and her mouth fell open. He let her study him and he could feel his cock

twitching against his stomach. He stroked the length of his erection, knowing full well she was watching. He wasn’t necessarily trying to shock her but he needed the touch. He needed her touch but he was willing to settle for his own until she was ready.

He walked to her and leaned down to kiss her mouth. She reached for

his dick and he let her touch him this time. She squeezed the shaft gently

and he groaned into her mouth.

“Turn around.” He said the words while he still had the strength to.

One more moment of her touch and he might lose his ability to speak altogether. She released him from her grasp and turned slowly around.

He pulled her hair over the side of her shoulder and let his mouth wander down over her good shoulder. Her other shoulder looked

painful and he soaped the washcloth he’d grabbed on his way in and gently ran the rag over the scraped and angry skin. She hissed and pulled forward for a moment but sank back as she adjusted to the touch.

He moved over the rest of her skin, gently washing the dirt and grime from her skin.

He moved the washcloth over her bottom, wanting to make the

material disappear so he could touch her skin and when he kneeled behind her he moved the washcloth down her legs but he kept his eyes

glued to her bottom. He leaned forward and kissed gently over the pale

skin of her cheeks and she moaned quietly. He ended up abandoning the

washcloth at her feet and moving his mouth up to her lower back as he

knelt up behind her and pulled her body into his with a hand covering

each hipbone.

His chest was to her bottom and he took his time kissing along her back as his hands toyed with her hipbones. By the time he’d made it back

up to standing, his body completely covered her backside and he’d

forgotten all about the washcloth now sitting on the floor. He turned her

around and pushed her body back to the wall behind her and after finding her mouth and thrusting his tongue between her lips for long enough to leave them both panting, he snatched the forgotten washcloth

from the floor and started at her neck.

Her neck looked red where she’d been choked yet again and he was

careful as he ran the rag down the line of her neck to her breast. When he traveled lower to her stomach, her muscles danced and twitched under his hand.

He didn’t delve between the lips of her sex when he cupped her with

the washcloth between her legs. Instead he moved quickly down to the

front of her legs before he could get too caught up with her pussy. She washed her hair quickly as he ran

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