Chapter 27
Dallas appears to be not only entirely unconcerned about my gargantuan fuck-up but also seriously turned on. He lifts me, so freaking easily it takes me off guard. He leans me against the Italian marble or whatever it is. The two shower heads rain onto us. “Wrap your legs around me,” he growls.
“Why?” I do it anyway. “Dallas. We need to do something about this. I mean, there must be a—”
His cock is there, the thick head of it already pushing inside me. As always, I’m so wet for him, whether from now or earlier I can’t honestly tell and it hardly matters, he slides easily, thickly into me. Forcing me to take all of him.
Usually he waits for some kind of assurance from me, but not this time. “Dallas. We need to talk about this. We need to do something.”
But he’s already deep inside me. “I am doing something.”
“Did you not hear what I just told you?”
“I heard you.”
“If it’s true that I’ve missed three days of taking my pill then we could be in very serious trouble here.”
“Indeed we could.”
“‘Indeed we could’? Is that all you have to say?” Damn him. His big cock and the way it’s rubbing against my clit as he drives even deeper feels so damn good I’m already losing my mind. “Dallas.”
“You want me stop?” His voice is deep and rasped, almost madness-edged, like he’s more lust-raged than he’s ever been and wouldn’t stop even if I begged.
He slows his movement just as I’m starting to almost come.
“No.” To hell with it. Copious amounts of his damn seed are already inside me from our weekend sex marathon.
Once more isn’t going to change the outcome either way.
Or at least I don’t think it will. Having no mother or sisters or the time to google all the things that normal people google, I’m woefully uninformed about this stuff.
And with my lack of experience, I’ve never really had the need to read up on the mechanics of it all.
As soon as we’re done here, of course I’ll make a point of properly catching up on my glaring omission and doing whatever I need to do to fix my mistake.
For now, the pleasure overload is out of this world. I don’t know if it’s because we’re now heading into deeply forbidden territory, but we both come harder than we ever have before, our bodies locked in explosive, simultaneous rapture. All I can do is hold on for dear life and hope I survive it.
My head lolls on his shoulder as my heartbeat begins to slow.
Neither of us says anything for a while as the waves calm and our breathing evens out.
Slowly, Dallas pulls out of me, setting me carefully on my feet. He washes me—but before he does, he uses his fingers to gently push his cum back inside me, watching my eyes as he does this.
“Are you trying to knock me up, Wilder?” I ask him, my voice quiet. There’s no attitude to my question. I genuinely want to know. I’m not mad at him. How can I be? It’s my fault.
“Not specifically, but I wouldn’t mind if I did.”
“How can you say that, Dallas? You hardly know me.” There’s a sting behind my eyes. How could I be so monumentally stupid, to not know that of course you’re supposed to take the pill every day. What kind of imbecile doesn’t freaking know that? It seems obvious now that I understand it.
“I know you better than anyone ever has.”
Unfortunately, in many ways, he’s right. And that does it. Hot tears pool in my eyes and slide down my cheeks. Which is weird. I never cry.
“Hey,” he croons. “Don’t cry. You’re okay, I promise you. Dallas is here.”
It sounds funny and we both laugh a little. “That’s why I’m crying,” I joke. Because if I don’t, I’m going to lose it completely.
He wipes my tears. He rinses me. Then he turns off the shower and wraps a towel around me, then one around his waist. Then he carries me into the bedroom and sets me onto the bed, lying next to me with his arm behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling fan.
“We have time before we have to go. It’s my jet so they’re hardly going to leave without me.
So I’m going to tell you a few things that I know you might not be ready to hear yet, but I’m going to say them anyway since now seems like a good time. ”
“What things?”
He watches my face for a moment, his eyes lingering on my mouth before roving back to my eyes.
“I’ve been alone for a long time, Amelie Thibodeaux.
All I’ve done in my life is work. From the age of seven years old, I knew what I wanted to do and I did it, without really ever looking up.
We lived our life in the public eye and it wasn’t a particularly happy one.
It was ridiculously prosperous, yes, and we appreciated that as much as you can when you’ve never known anything else.
But there was a vast emptiness to it too.
A loneliness that’s hard to explain. I know exactly how fortunate I am to have lived the way I’ve lived.
I also know what it’s like to feel entirely alone in a deeply existential way.
To the point where you wonder what it’s all for. ”
Dallas’s eyes are teal and so soulful, I want to comfort him, despite everything, or maybe just because I love him—enough to overlook extremely important details of at least trying to keep my life on its admittedly-precarious track.
My craving to get close to him once again undermines everything I thought I knew and was sure of. “You’ve got your brothers though.”
“Yes. I have my brothers. And they’re my best friends.
But we’re all busy and I don’t see them as much as I’d like to.
And that’s not the kind of alone I’m talking about.
I’m talking the kind of alone where you’ve accepted that you’re destined to remain unattached for the rest of your natural born life because you’ve never once—not once—met a single person who makes you feel any emotion at all aside from boredom.
And sadness, because you know in your heart that they’re just completely wrong for you.
And you hate yourself for even spending time with them but you do it anyway just so you don’t have to feel like you’ve completely given up on life itself.
But a part of you has given up. You know it has and you can feel it and it becomes this fucking chore to even fucking talk to people.
It’s why I don’t take days off. I work. I sleep. And then I work some more.”
“The hard work has paid off though,” I offer, tracing my fingers over the lines of one of his tribal-looking tattoos, waiting for him to keep going.
He turns onto his side so he’s facing me, and props his head on a bent, brawny arm. “And then I walked into your bar.”
I gaze into his dark eyes, so very familiar to me now it seems impossible. “You did.”
“I don’t know how to say this without it sounding cheesy as fuck but I don’t care.
Because that’s exactly what it felt like.
Like in that moment, a black cloud moved away from the sun.
There you were. The sweet, sassy little bartender I couldn’t believe was real.
I knew you were the one I’ve been looking for and could never find.
Right then and there. Life a fucking lightning bolt.
Of course I knew. I’d already given up hope.
I didn’t believe I’d ever fucking find you.
And now that I have, you can bet your sweet little ass, Amelie Thibodeaux, that I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you.
When you spend twenty-nine years searching for something very, very elusive, trust me, honey pie, you know with the power of a goddamn runaway freight train when you finally fucking find it.
You quite literally light up my life, angel girl.
This weekend has been unlike anything I’ve ever done or felt or thought I could feel.
Of course I want to knock you up, when you’re ready.
I want all of it. The whole life and the happily ever after.
I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted, even if it takes me the rest of my life and every last fucking dollar to give it to you.
I want you. I want you. You’re holding my heart in your hot little hands, sweetheart. ”
Wow. I don’t know how to begin to react to all that.
“You don’t have to be ready for any of it,” he says. “We can take all the time you need to adjust. We can spend time getting to know each other and you can let me do everything in my power to try to convince you that I’m all fucking in.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I whisper honestly. I wish I’d at least read the fine print on that piece of paper included in the pill box a little more carefully. What if I’m pregnant with his baby? Then what? Way to go, Amelie Thibodeaux. You’re really nailing this take-control-of-your-life stuff.
“That’s okay. But I want you to know I am ready.
As long as you’re open to the idea of letting me shower you with fun and gifts and everything you’ve ever dreamed of, including hot sex and the kind of true love at least half of us knows is only just getting started, at least let me try.
We can take the rest of it as it comes. What do you say, Boo? ”
When he puts it like that, what else can I say? “Okay.”