Bound to Her by Deborah Pin (popular books to read .txt) 📖

from the bed and undressed. She

watched him pull his shirt off and drop his pants and underwear to the

floor. He was aroused and hard and the sight of his breadth and length

was an intimidating thing to behold. He crawled back onto the bed and

lay down beside her. Katrina rolled to him, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him.

He pulled her mouth to his and she tasted herself on his still-

glistening lips. He didn’t release her mouth until he’d pulled her body on

top of his to straddle his hips. Her wetness was coating the base of his cock and she couldn’t seem to help but push down on him. He gripped

her hips, pulling her hard to his groin just as desperately as she wanted

to seal herself to him. He slid her body up the length of his erection and

as the head teased her opening, he released her hips.

“Go ahead.”

She rose to her knees and he grasped the base of his erection, holding

his cock erect from his body. She slid down over the head, feeling him pass into her body. He stretched and pierced through her as she sank lower onto him. Every inch she lowered her body tested her threshold that much more and by the time she was sitting square on his lap she was whimpering. She leaned down to his mouth, kissing him. He

clutched her cheeks, holding her mouth to his and she started rocking her hips against his. As she lifted her hips, the deep pressure in her groin

eased but the moment she felt the emptiness she pushed back down along his length, impaling herself on him again. She cried out as he hit her depths and he watched her.

When Dillon wrapped his arms around her, he pulled her chest to his

and rolled their bodies as he pushed deep into her. He pushed and rolled

his hips between her legs as she dug her fingers into his lower back and

she didn’t let go until he pulled his knees up under her thighs and sat upright, lifting her to face him.

He was sitting on his heels with his knees slightly splayed and she braced the balls of her feet against the soles of his. Every time he rolled

his hips it drove his cock straight to her core. She used his feet as leverage as she grinded her hips against his, feeling him impaling her over and over again.

“Let go and lean back.” He spoke in her ear. She’d been clutching him

tight to her and at the sound of his voice, she released her hold and looked at him. He was still thrusting his hips into her and as she leaned

back, he held her lower back and eased her shoulders down to the bed as

he stayed upright. He held her, letting only her shoulders rest against the

bed as his hips rolled seductively between her legs.

“Rub your clit.” She focused on the sight of his clenching stomach muscles as she reached between her legs and did as he asked. When she

glanced to his eyes, his gaze was glued to what her fingers were doing between her legs and when he licked his lips and his brow flinched as his

hips humped, she fell apart and came as her muscles tensed and gripped

around him.

His groan was deep as she tightened on his length and he collapsed

over her, pushing her hands above her head, pinning her to the bed as he

drove into her. He was jolting her body forward with each powerful drive and when he came he buried his face against her neck as he held

himself deep and pulsed within her.

She listened to his breathing slow against her neck and she kissed the

side of his neck. “Was that a peace offering?”

He chuckled, sending a warm vibration from his mouth through her

skin. “No, sweetie. My finger up your ass was a peace offering. That was

just an incredibly good fuck.” And then he nipped her earlobe as he pulled from her aching vagina. She hissed at the pain and he pulled her

onto her side to face him. “Why do I feel like I’m hurting you sometimes when we make love?”

“It’s that good kind of hurt.”

“I find it hard to believe there is such a thing.”

“Well you don’t have a vagina.”

“You got me there. I do not have a vagina but I sure do like yours.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, can we please go to my bed? It’s far

more comfortable than this one.”

“You’ll remember you’re the one who came in here.”

“Don’t sass.” He rolled from bed, pulling her up to her feet and walking her down the hall to his room. He climbed into bed after her and

pulled her body into his. “I love you.” He whispered it quietly against her temple.

“I love you too.”

And then she was asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I’m going to be in San Francisco for the rest of week. I’ll be back in

town late Saturday night.” Then a pause. “No. I’m sorry but I’m not telling you where I’ll be staying. I’m going to visit friends and you can reach me by cell.”

Another pause. “What kind of emergency, Detective? I no longer have

a home to be broken into, you’re watching Imogen’s house and she’s safely out of the country, so what kind of emergency are you thinking would warrant knowing where I am?”

And yet another pause. “Like I said, you have my cell phone.” And then she hung up on Detective Smith. No wonder they’d gotten on so poorly the first time they met. The woman had no problem telling it like

it was to pretty much anyone and, yes, that meant cops—Dillon

included.

They’d packed that morning after she made breakfast, and after he’d

set their bags by the front door she’d called Detective Smith. He thought

she was perhaps hoping to reach his voicemail so she could avoid this conversation but she hadn’t been so lucky.

They needed to go to Imogen’s before they could call for a cab, so Kat

could make sure Kitty had what she needed for the rest of the week, and

so she could pack up a few final items she didn’t have at his place.

They’d call a cab once they returned to Dillon’s to get them to the airport.

When they reached Imogen’s, the officer stationed there eyed him

suspiciously. This was not going to go over well. He punched the

number into the security gate panel and then pulled up in front. He grabbed Katrina’s only partially packed bag and walked her into the house. The old mangy-looking critter that was supposed to be a cat found them instantly. She was staggering about like usual and Dillon loaded up her food and water while Katrina changed her litter box.

Katrina had a good portion of her wardrobe at Imogen’s house when

her house burned down, so she was fortunate enough to not be

completely left without a thread to her name. She finished packing her

bag with the clothes she had there, as Dillon lounged on her bed watching her.

It was hard to believe he’d managed to fall so in love with her. The very notion snuck up on him all the time and usually left his heart fluttering and his cock hard. Making love to her was like nothing he’d experienced before.

There was such an incredible added depth to what they did together

that simply hadn’t existed with the meaningless women he’d fucked

since Seth’s mom had died. He couldn’t seem to stop his mind from analyzing it every time he was inside her body. It was odd he should want to study their dynamic in the midst of sex but there was nothing more powerful than focusing on how much he loved her when he was plowing into her body.

She eyed him—or more accurately she eyed his erection that was

fighting with the fly of his pants. “What are you thinking about?” She looked at him seductively.

“You.”

“What about me?”

He studied her for a moment, deciding just how much he wanted to

let her into his head. He decided all the way in. “You know how you like

to touch yourself when I enter your body? You like to feel that spot where our bodies first meet?”

“Yeah?” She looked nervous, maybe even embarrassed and her

cheeks were scarlet. She wouldn’t feel that way if she knew just how damn sexy he thought it was when she touched.

“Well I’d like to think that experience for you is, I don’t know, kind of

emotional, right?” He was treading into girl-talk territory and he

couldn’t help but think he might just be out of his depth here.

“Yes it is. But it’s kind of hard to explain I guess.” She sat next to his

hip after she tossed the last of her clothes into the bag. She thought for a moment then shook her head as though she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say.

“In the past, I think I did it to try to convince myself there was more

intimacy to what I was doing than there actually was.” She sounded terrified at what she was saying so freely to him but what she was saying

was so perfect and he understood completely.

“Is it different with me?” He knew it was or at least he expected it was.

“Yes. I’m not wishing for the intimacy, I just have it and touching…

it’s kind of a rush now.” He reached for her hand, sitting up to her. The

blush of her cheeks hadn’t died down a bit and he knew she was feeling

exceptionally vulnerable.

When he reached for her cheek and pulled her mouth to his, it was just to reassure her. Then he moved to her ear.

“I like to think about how much I love you when I’m inside you. At

first the thought just popped up when I was making love to you, because

it was so fucking new it caught me off guard. Now, I like to focus on it

intentionally, because it’s such an incredible high.” She smiled at him when he pulled back from her ear. “Sound odd?”

“No. Sounds sexy as hell.” She kissed him and he stood from the bed,

carrying her bag back down to the car.

They grabbed coffee on the way back to the house and as they hopped

in the cab he’d called to pick them up a bit later, she watched him. He could see her out of his peripheral vision, studying him. When he reached for her hand, she sighed.

“I’m nervous.”

“And if I tell you you shouldn’t be?”

“I’ll still be nervous.”

“Just as I thought. Well then, be nervous for no good reason and I’ll

tell you I told you so later when you realize there was no reason whatsoever to be nervous around my family.”

He smiled at her quickly, ignoring the cab driver’s watchful eyes.

He’d already bought and printed their boarding passes, so it was a fairly

uneventful stripfest at security before they had an hour and a half to kill

until they could board. He suggested a drink and she nodded quickly.

They grabbed a table, parking their carryon bags next to them and spent the next hour getting pleasantly buzzed. She managed to down three cocktails, and when they stood to leave, she swayed on her feet a

little and he chuckled. So long as it relaxed her he wasn’t going to complain. She was actually incredibly cute when she was a bit tipsy and

when they finally found an open pair of seats in the pre-boarding area she sank into hers lazily.

“Did I tell you I hate flying?”

“No you did not. Unfortunate since, you know, we’re going to be

flying.” That might explain her need to pacify her nerves with a bit of alcohol and here he’d just assumed it was fear of meeting his family.

“We should drive.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yes. Well kind of. I really hate flying.”

He quickly figured out just how true that statement was. He ended up

with fingernail crescents gouged into the top of his hand and she likely

frightened a number of nearby passengers with her yelps and moans

every time she heard a new sound or the airplane shifted in any way whatsoever—impossible for airplanes not to, which made the trip one panic attack after another for her. Thank God they were driving home.

As they were standing in the aisle ready to debark, he leaned down to

her ear from behind her. “Remind me to never torture you in such a way

again. I truly had no idea someone could be so terrified of the safest form

of travel.”

She turned to him and smiled. It was the first smile he’d seen since getting her onto the plane, but as they grabbed a cab her smile faded and

her hands started trembling.

“Please don’t be so nervous. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

She glared at him as though he’d just sworn at her. He chuckled.

Couldn’t help himself. She wasn’t just cute when she was tipsy—she was

cute as hell when she was nervous too.

He’d lost his damn mind if he thought she shouldn’t be nervous and

she was two seconds from smacking him. Of course that would require

she let go of his hand and since it was the only thing keeping her sanity

anchored, she thought perhaps she should hold on tight. She couldn’t stop her fingers from trembling and as they rounded a corner onto a residential street, the tremble turned to violent shakes. He squeezed her

hand and scooted to the center of the seat, wrapping his arms around her.

They pulled upside an amazing three-story home smack in the middle of a hill that would likely give her an asthma attack regardless of the fact she didn’t have asthma. As the cab driver helped them get their bags from the trunk she stared up at the beautiful porch in front of them.

Dillon grabbed both of their carryon suitcases and led the way up to the

front door.

When the door was pulled open, Molly was standing there smiling

broadly at them both. Katrina was instantly glad to see her face. She at least knew Molly.

“Ms. Page! I’m so glad to see you!”

“Please. It’s Katrina and I’m glad to see you too.” And she was—

relieved more like it.

“Come on in. Mom and Dad are excited to meet you. Mom’s been

fluttering about cleaning since I got Dillon’s text message saying you were both coming. The boys are at the park so you won’t see them for a

while but I’m guessing you’re ready to relax anyway.” Molly was speed-

talking and Katrina’s heart was finally slowing. Dillon followed her into

the entryway and set their bags on the stairway landing.

Molly had already linked elbows with Katrina and was ushering her

farther into the house but Dillon came up behind them, resting a warm

hand on the back of her neck and his other gripped her free hand and squeezed gently to reassure her. She craned her head around to see him

behind her and he winked at her quickly.

“Mom! She’s here!” Katrina was escorted into a large and open

kitchen. The counters were marble, the floor was a worn and likely reclaimed plank wood flooring and the ceilings were as tall as they had

been in the living room. She was in awe. Dillon had a nice home but this

was incredible. It wasn’t lavish by any means but it was perfect and comfortable—so incredibly inviting. Dillon’s mother was standing at the

sink filling a teakettle and she turned to them instantly.

“Oh! You must be Ms. Page!” Katrina smiled instantly at the woman.

She was surprisingly short like Katrina was and her hair was wavy and

white. She’d obviously grayed younger than most but she pulled it off stunningly.

“It’s Katrina, please. You must be Mrs. Adler.”

“It’s Delphi but please just call me Del. Oh you’re just lovely. I knew

you must be but you…well, you are!” She pulled Katrina into a tight hug and it wasn’t until Dillon cleared his throat that she was finally allowed

to breathe again. “Oh, Dillon! You’re here too. Yes. How are you?” She grabbed Dillon just as tightly as she had Katrina.

“I’m well. Where’s Dad?”

“He’s out in the garden, watering. How was the flight?”

“Oh, ask Katrina. She loved it.” He smirked at Katrina who instantly

felt her cheeks burning.

Del turned to Katrina with a questioning look and she shook her head

in embarrassment. “I don’t fly well.” She said it sheepishly as Dillon held

his hand up, showing the claw marks she’d inflicted. Molly burst out laughing and Del gave her a sympathetic look.

“Well I have something that’ll take care of those nerves.” Del walked

to the fridge and grabbed an open bottle of sparkling wine. She grabbed

five glasses, handing a couple to Dillon. Turning back to the fridge, seemingly as a second thought, she grabbed another unopened bottle of

wine, passing it off to Molly. “Outside to the patio, I think. Oh I almost

forgot.” She started toward the back door off the kitchen. “I set up two

spare rooms for you two but if you’d prefer one, then just pick whichever

you’d like.”

“Oh no. Two is just fine. Thank you.” Katrina responded as Del

turned back and smiled kindly.

“Like hell it is.” Dillon muttered from behind her.

The patio was just as stunning as the interior. The backyard was small

but every square inch that was free was filled with greenery and flowers

that were just starting to bud. Narrow brick paving-stone walkways

meandered through the lush plants and she could hear a water feature somewhere—though it was hidden from her sight at the moment. There

was a large open paving stone patio just outside the back door and a roomy wooden table was situated with six surrounding chairs.

Molly took a seat and ushered her over to her side as Dillon hollered

for his father. She could hear the rustling of branches before she saw the

man and when he finally made an appearance, she was shocked at the resemblance between Dillon and him. He still had a full head of dark hair

that was speckled with gray. He wore contemporary glasses and even in

heavy linen gardening gloves he was tall and intimidating. That was

until he smiled at his son.

“Oh, Dillon! I’m so glad you’ve made it. Your mom has been acting like a lunatic all day, getting ready for you and your guest. And where is

she?” His eyes landed on Katrina as she stood and rounded the table to

meet him.

“Dad, this is Katrina. Kat, this is my father, Michael.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Katrina, and we’re so glad you’re here.”

She thanked him before returning to her chair.

Dillon quickly took the seat next to her and he reached for her hand

instantly. Molly noticed immediately and started to beam at him. It was

all very cute—nerve-racking for Katrina but Dillon obviously had a

wonderful family and there was something incredible about seeing him

with them.

Del brought out a loaf of bakery bread and some different spreads and a lime that she cut and offered for the wineglasses. Then she poured

a round of drinks.

As everyone settled in, Molly turned to Dillon. “So am I allowed to ask about what has been going on with Katrina’s case? You’ve refused to

say anything up to this point but well, I mean, the cat’s kind of out of the bag, right? No pun intended, Kat.”

Dillon answered immediately. “It’s entirely up to Katrina if she wants

to talk about it or not.” He looked to Katrina and she nodded.

“I don’t mind. They deserve some explanation as to why I’m crashing

the party.”

Dillon’s jaw tensed instantly but he regained his composure quickly.

He started explaining the events of the past month and a half. He gave the watered-down version of the telephone messages but aside from that

he held very little back.

His family listened intently, his mother’s gaze moving back and forth

from Katrina to her son, occasionally shaking her head. Molly was

equally enraptured with the story and her mouth hung open the vast majority of the time. When he got to the past week Molly cringed as he

related the fire and his mother’s eyes instantly teared.

His father listened intently as he spoke and when Dillon stopped

talking, his father continued to study them both. “And no evidence ever

turned up at Katrina’s house, nothing on the phone calls, no sightings near her home of anything suspicious? I mean it’s just odd that he could

go so unnoticed.” Katrina sat quietly at Dillon’s side, listening.

“I know. But the thing is this man isn’t careless. He’s cautious and he’s patient. I’m not sure I can even say he’s a smart criminal. He’s just

good at…well, hell, pacing himself for lack of a better word. It would be

one thing if this perp was so overzealously interested in Kat that he was

simply compelled to act, but he’s patient. He waits, oftentimes weeks, before reaching out again and doing something and those actions are often calculated.”

“Why burn down her home? When you think about it, it forces her to

move away and if she’s away she’s likely more cognizant of her safety, wherever that might be. In some respects she was more vulnerable in her

home. Now she’s not nearly so out in the open.”

“I don’t know. Anger, I wonder. After the failed abduction in the parking garage only days before, maybe he lost control for once. There’s

evidence suggesting this person has been in Kat’s home before.”

“An acquaintance?” Molly piped up.

“I don’t think so. Her friends and acquaintances have all been looked

at, but there have been several contractors and workmen in over the past

year or so working on various projects. That’s being looked into.”

“What makes you think this man has been in her home?” Dillon’s

father had a stern look on his face, much like Dillon’s own expression.

“Umm, certain familiarity with the layout of her home that the perp

wouldn’t have with an outside-in perspective only.”

“Such as?” It was Molly again.

“Such as personal information I’m not going to discuss, but which

makes it clear this man was intimately familiar with her home.”

“Hmm.” His father was steepling his fingers against his chin—again

it was a striking similarity to Dillon. “Well, Katrina, I have to say you are about the last person in the world to deserve something like this, not that

anyone does and I’m so sorry you’re having to endure it.”

“Thank you.” Dillon reached for her hand again and his expression

was as solemn as his father’s.

“Now if you don’t mind my asking, what of your removal from her

case, Dillon?”

He stiffened beside her. “What about it?” He sounded mildly

defensive.

“Do you have reason to think there could be disciplinary action or dismissal?”

“I don’t know, Dad.” She suddenly felt guilty again. She felt like the

center of attention all of a sudden—which was odd considering the past

thirty minutes was all about her—and now she felt more under the

microscope than any moment of that time.

She couldn’t seem to pull her eyes up from the table in front of her and she could feel her brow furrowed with stress but for the life of her

she couldn’t release the tension.

“And you didn’t meet Mom on the job?” She couldn’t help but look

up then. She had no idea Dillon’s father had been in law enforcement.

Michael chuckled for a moment. “That was a routine traffic stop when

I was still a patrol officer. Three traffic stops in a month. It was bound to happen—the woman couldn’t seem to stop speeding.” He smirked.

“She’s a hell of a bad driver, Katrina. Don’t ever get in the car with her if you can help it.” She smiled but she was having a hard time with this conversation.

Dillon’s grip on her hand squeezed gently. “I can’t say I’m not

worried but what I will say is this. I’ll never regret my relationship with

Kat. I’m in love with her. It’s just that simple.”

If Katrina thought her eyes were glued to the table before, now they

were literally cemented in place. What the hell was she supposed to do in

front of his family with that? She loved him. Of course she did but did it

mean she had any idea how not to act like a maniac in front of his family? Hell no. Fortunately Seth and Jake decided now would be a grand time to arrive on scene.

“Dad! Ms. Page! Aunt Molly said you were coming. We got to go to

Alcatraz the other day, Dad! And we went to a Giants game!” Katrina risked a look up to see Seth and Jake standing in the doorway. Dillon stood and when he met Seth coming off the steps he hugged him. Molly

clasped Katrina’s hand quickly and she took over where Dillon left off. It

didn’t escape her attention too that Del was smiling warmly at her. But

none of it saved her from the burning hot tears that were pricking the

back of her eyes. She didn’t want to be responsible for him losing his job or for any other awful thing happening to any one of them. And yet she

was the center of it all.

“Hey, bud. You guys go in and wash up. You smell like a locker room

and Grandma’s making dinner.”

“Okay. Can we go to a drag show before we leave?”

“Umm. No. That’s actually not going to happen at all. Definitely no.

Big no on that one.”

She laughed even as a tear escaped her eye. She was going to ruin this

man with her drama. She was being selfish. Why was she continuing to

set her own needs above his? She’d already lost this argument with him

once but if seeing him with his family weren’t argument enough that what she was doing was selfish she didn’t know what was.

“Kat?”

“Hmm?” She turned to his voice. He was sitting beside her again and

she could feel the warm tears in her eyes. “Baby, why are you upset?”

She shook her head. His family was walking inside and she angled her head toward him to hide the tears in her eyes. “Don’t hide from me.”

She met his eyes but the second she saw the worry she shook her head again. He sighed. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room, which is

sadly not mine thanks to that Amish conservative move you pulled when

we got here.” He smirked and she sniffed her nose.

“Kat, look at me.” His voice was suddenly serious and when she met

his eyes they were too. “You know I love you.” She nodded. “And do you love me too?” She nodded again. “Everything else will fall into place. Trust me?” She nodded again. She was starting to feel like a puppet with her head on a string. He was so good at getting inside her.

“Come with me.”

She stood, feeling his hand clasp hers as they moved back into the house, through the kitchen and back into the large living room. Their bags were where they’d left them on the landing and he carried both upstairs as she followed him.

He left his in the second-floor hallway and then he walked with her

up to the third floor with her bag. The bedroom was beautiful and cozy.

The bed was wrought iron and the quilt on top was an antique floral

pattern. There was a down comforter at the foot of the bed. The room had its own bathroom with a clawfoot tub. She couldn’t imagine a more

quaint and comfortable room.

Dillon opened the short French doors out onto a small deck that

overlooked the backyard and patio far below and when he turned to her

as she stared out at the harbor in the distance he smiled. “My mother was

an interior designer before she retired. Could you guess?”

She smiled. She was struggling to stifle the emotion that had crept up

on her and, as Dillon’s face fell for a moment, she was smacked with more guilt. “Molly’s across the hall. The boys are sharing a room on the

second floor and my room is there as well. My parents’ master bedroom

is on the ground floor. Will you be okay here alone?”

She nodded and he approached her. “You know this is entirely your

fault?” She cocked her head to the side. “They wouldn’t have cared if we

stayed together.”

“But perhaps Seth would have.” He watched her closely for a

moment before nodding subtly.

“Perhaps. I’ll see you downstairs shortly.” He kissed her and she was

so tempted to close the door to the room and sink into his body for a while. He was all man and that most manly part of him was hard and rigid against her body at the moment. His body taunted her—it told her

he could make her worry disappear for a while if she’d only let him. It promised a distraction, a reprieve, a break from the ugly things in her mind.

It guaranteed her ecstasy and hedonism that would leave her

complete and