12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Blaire
K insey’s birthday was one she should remember . . . or maybe not considering the amount of liquor she consumed. Everyone showed up for her, and even though she’s Dallas’ sister, I love being able to celebrate her because she’s the sweetest. I tried not to let Dallas cornering me in the bathroom again get to me by drowning myself in shots. I don’t drink often, so it didn’t take much before I was feeling the effects plus some, and now I am swaying on my feet. Reid left a few hours ago, claiming he had something important to get to, and then over the last hour the crowd started to dwindle.
“Hey, we’re heading out, the storm is picking up quickly outside and I don’t want to get stuck in it,” Sawyer tells the group, which consists of his brothers, Kinsey, and Ivy. I lay my head down on the cold bar top, the coolness feeling so good against my flushed cheek.
“I’ll bring this she-devil home in a bit, she’s clearly had more than she should,” Dallas tells Sawyer as he walks away with his arm slung over Ivy’s shoulders. The rest of his family follows, leaving me alone in Dallas’ domineering presence.
I pop up from my position on the bar, sitting up on my barstool, trying my best to keep from swaying off of it, and making a quick decision to choose violence, ’cause I’ve had enough of the audacity of this infuriating man, even if he is hot as hell and knows exactly how to fuck me.
“The hell you will, Dallas, you arrogant dickhead! I’m not going anywhere with you!” I yell at him.
“You’ll do whatever I tell you to do, Blaire, now let’s go.”
“No way. Fuck you!”
“Watch your mouth, princess,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Or what?”
He leans in close, grabbing me firmly around the back of my neck and yanking me so my face is only a breath away.
“Or I’ll fuck it. Remember how much you enjoyed gagging on my cock?”
All the blood drains from my face.
“What? Suddenly at a loss for vicious words to spew my way? Walk out of here with me so I can get you home safely, or so help me, Blaire, I’ll fucking carry you. But either way, you’re leaving with me.”
“You are such an arrogant dick. I’ll leave here with whoever I want. I’ll find—” His fingers tighten around my neck, pulling my face directly to his. The space between us is nonexistent, our noses practically touching now, his breath hot on my lips.
“Finish that sentence, I dare you.”
His eyes dance down to my mouth, and I can’t fight the feeling his touch and filthy words ignite in me. I feel how slick I’m starting to get as my core aches. I should worry about how his dominance turns me on, but I don’t. I know deep down I want a repeat of what happened in his office. I’ve never come so hard in my life. I never imagined my mind and body reacting the way they did to Dallas’ commands, and I’ve been avoiding dissecting that. His little show in the bathroom only made me want him more. Time passes between us without a response from me, and he takes it as obedience.
“Good girl,” he praises. I know he sees the moment my features soften and my body relaxes. I don’t understand why I react to him this way. It’s not me. He brings out something in me that has long lain dormant, and I can’t explain the primal urge I feel to please him, to relax in his presence, especially when he’s the one in my life I am usually playing defense with.
He releases his hold on me and grabs my hand. I look down at where they’re joined, and my heart stutters in my chest. No one’s ever held my hand before, no one’s ever cared enough to. I follow him out of the distillery and into the night, the freezing Washington winter air sobering me.
We hustle to his fancy car, which looks entirely too nice for driving in the snow, but he seems to handle it just fine. He lets go of my hand and takes all the warmth with it. Opening my door for me, he motions for me to get in. I climb in quickly, rubbing my hands together, seeking the warmth he took from them. I study him the entire ride home, his chiseled jaw is covered with prickly facial hair, and the urge to run my hands over the coarse stubble is strong. I watch the way he focus on the road as the snow rains down on the windshield in a thick blanket, the movement of his legs as he releases the gas and pushes in the clutch, his muscled arm shifting gears. He’s so hot it’s painful.
I’m so lost in the image in front of me that I don’t realize we’ve pulled up in front of a large, northwest contemporary home, the garage door sliding open in front of us.
“This isn’t my place, Dallas.”
“You’re so observant. It’s mine. I asked you three times where you lived but you haven’t answered me. I’m tired and not going back out in the storm, so I have a guest room you can crash in.”
Panic sets in. Shit.
“Dallas, I can’t stay at your house. I must have zoned out, I rarely drink. But I definitely cannot stay the night here.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass. I’m not going back out in this. Look outside, Blaire, it’s a fucking freak blizzard. We’re here, so get out and let’s get inside to get some water and ibuprofen in you.”
His voice softens at the end, and I don’t like what it does to me. His concern over my well-being is foreign and does weird things to my heart. It needs to stop.
“Fine. But I’m not your problem to worry about. Just show me where I’m sleeping, and I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”
“Blaire, it’s not a big deal. Calm down.”
I scoff and roll my eyes at him.
“Tell me a time in history when a man has told a woman to ‘calm down’ and she actually did it. Fuck off, Dallas.”
He looks at me blankly for a moment before opening his car door and climbing out, slamming it shut behind him. I follow him into his house and am immediately engulfed in his scent. Woodsy and clean and so him. His house is surprisingly modern for this area, with sleek, clean furnishings, hardwood floors, and minimal decor. We walk in silence into his kitchen, where Dallas hands me a water bottle and two pills. My hand goes to my hip, and I look up at him with the attitude I know he loves so much.
“Do you always have to be such a goddamn brat? Take the fuckin’ pills and follow me.”
Placing my hand out flat in front of him, Dallas drops the ibuprofen into my palm before snapping open the water bottle and handing it to me. I toss them back with an exaggerated eye roll.
“Atta girl. Now let’s go,” he says before putting his hands on my lower back, steering me around the corner and down a hallway. There are three doors, and he opens the only one on the left.
“My room is right across the hall if you need anything. There’s an en suite in here and I’ll go grab you some clothes. Be right back.”
He leaves me alone to take in the space. It’s a pretty traditional guest room—a queen size bed in the center, a dresser, and a settee in front of a large window. There are no curtains and the moon lights up the room in a shadowy, silver ambiance. I drift over to it, looking out into the night. The snow is still coming down heavily outside.
“Hey, here’s a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. That’ll hold you over till tomorrow.”
I give him an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”
The tension ratchets up as we stare at each other. I move toward him, all inhibitions going right out the window, wanting nothing more than a repeat of what happened in his office now that I’m in his home, no matter how stupid it is, when he takes a step back.
“G’night, Blaire.”
As if the storm had blown the winter chill through the window, that blazing heat is doused, leaving me feeling stupid and insecure. That was a one-time hookup. A misstep. There’s no way he’d want that again, he was probably just fucking with me earlier in the bathroom because he likes to rattle me. Feeling like an idiot, I close the door behind him and strip out of my clothes, pulling Dallas’ shirt over my head. It goes to the top of my thighs, and it feels so good to be swimming in a man’s shirt. I’m not a petite girl by any means, but there’s something so comforting and feel-good about wearing his shirt and having it hang off my body.
Pulling back the blankets of the bed, I slip into the sheets that feel so soft on my skin, and do my best to fall asleep. While I’m no stranger to sleeping in new places, it is so weird to try to fall asleep without a movie playing or a book to read. Both keep my brain from being idle and relax me, even if the content riles me up in other areas.
I can’t believe the events of the day have led me to spending the night at Dallas’ house. After I let my asshole boss defile me in his office in a dominating way, and freaking loved it, I knew I had to stay away from him. Never would I have imagined any of this happening. When he’s ordering me around the office, it comes so easily to snap back and fight him on everything. But the moment he told me to get on my knees, all the fight left my body. The moment he caught me earlier in the bathroom, I caved. My nervous system recognizes something in Dallas, something I’m not sure I want to investigate.
Without anything to keep me busy, I look out the window and watch the snow fall gracefully from the sky. I’ve always loved winter, and the massive window next to me, plus the skylights above, give me the feeling of being inside a snow globe. The white flakes float from the sky, each one unique and inherently their own. It’s hard not to marvel at the magic of it.
Wide awake, I decide that a hot shower and washing off the night will help relax me further. The bathroom is gorgeous, and almost the size of my entire studio. I look around for a towel and come up empty-handed. Really wanting a shower, I leave the safety of the bedroom and step across the hall to Dallas’ room.
Door already slightly ajar, I push it open and take a hesitant step into the room. “Dallas?” The noise of a shower coming through the opened bathroom door stops me in my tracks. Shit, he had the same idea. I just need a towel. I bite my lip between my teeth. He’s naked, just thirty feet away from me. It seems criminally unfair that I’ve given this man a blowjob and let him have all of me, but I haven’t seen him fully naked. Curiosity wins as I tiptoe to the entryway of the bathroom, slowly peeking inside.
I send a silent thank you up to the powers that be for having my back because his shower is exactly like the one in my bathroom, and glass doors give me a full view of Dallas’ naked body. From my angle, I have a perfect side view of him. One of his arms is braced against the tile, his back to the spray, and the plains of his body are defined, the water rippling over each of his sexy, chiseled muscles. He’s hunched forward, and holy fucking shit. I suck in a gasp and quickly cover my mouth with my hand. His arm pumps in front of him as he strokes his very hard cock.
I know I should walk away and that this is crossing a major line. I just moved into stalker territory. His moans and breathing pick up and his head slowly moves to the side, his eyes connecting with mine. He doesn’t look surprised to see me, as if he felt me the moment I stepped into his room. Turning to face me, he continues a slow but bruising assault on that thick cock. His forearm muscles rippling, his abs taut and flexed. I lick my lips before pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Don’t just stand there, princess. If you’re going to watch, at least give me something to get off to.”
My heart stumbles in my chest, my breath hitching. I don’t move.
“Such a little voyeur you are. Get in here, Blaire. Now.”
I close my eyes for a moment before stepping into the bathroom and leaning the top of my ass on the edge of the bathroom sink.
“Pull up the shirt, Blaire, I know you’re bare under there, I have your panties. Let me see that gorgeous body you’re hiding.”
I bite down hard on my bottom lip as I grasp the hem of the shirt and pull it up to just under my large breasts. His eyes drop to my bare torso and his eyes widen with hunger.
“Take it off. Don’t make me say it again.”
I pull the shirt over my head, tossing it to the side. Slowly, I drag my fingers down the center of my chest, over the soft flesh of my tummy, and then trace the area around my pelvis. I watch as his eyes eat me up, lust-filled and focused. His free hand bats the shower head so that the water hits the wall and then he opens the glass door that was fogging up and distorting our view of each other.
“Such a pretty pussy. Spread your legs and touch yourself. I want to see how wet you got while watching me fuck my hand.”
I do as he says, propping myself up on the counter, spreading my legs and exposing myself to him. I drag my fingers through my center, finding myself already slick with arousal, my eyes glued to that big dick, the barbells of his piercings glimmering in the light as his fist works himself over.
Up and down, up and down.
I moan out loud, and the erotic, dirty scene playing out has me hovering on the edge already. I swirl my fingers around my clit before moving them lower, pressing them inside, and dragging my palm across my clit with each stroke.
“That’s it. Fuck yourself. You want to be a little voyeur? Now you’re going to make yourself come while I watch.”
It’s all too much. My knees shake as I hang right on the cusp, and just as the orgasm starts to hit me, Dallas steps out of the shower, the water sloshing off his naked body and soaking the floor. He drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing one of my legs and holding it out further with his hand, spreading me impossibly wide. His mouth descends on my throbbing, swollen pussy and I shatter. His talented tongue swipes through my pussy, piercing into me before sucking my clit in quick pulses like he knows exactly what I need. My body shakes as I convulse from the power of the orgasm. His hand is still between his legs, working himself over, and as one orgasm fades, it rolls right into a second.
“Oh god, Dallas! Yes! Fuck, yes! Don’t stop!” I grab the back of his head, holding him close to me as my hips grind wantonly on his face. I fall rapidly, the waves washing through me with force. As I start to come down, he releases me and stands, putting his hand on my shoulder and pressing me down.
“On your knees. You know the rules. Don’t spill a drop.”
I collapse down in front of him, my knees weak and trembling, and open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out just in time to accept the warm, thick ropes of cum into my mouth. I lean forward and eagerly suck his engorged head between my lips, sucking and pulling every bit of cum I can from him, wanting to milk him dry. I grab his length with my hand and pull off with a loud pop. I lap at his still-firm cock, cleaning him up and making sure I don’t leave anything behind. When I’m finished, I look up at him as he’s dropping down to his knees in front of me, grabbing my head with both of his hands. He kisses me, sucking my tongue into his mouth, the lingering taste of both of our releases mixing together. He pulls back and looks me in the eyes for a moment before speaking.
“Fuck, you’re addictive.” He leans in again and presses his lips to mine before standing and pulling me to my feet. “Get back to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Sobering, I quickly throw his shirt back on over my head and walk back to the guest room, thoughts of getting a towel or taking a shower long gone. I collapse onto the bed, pulling the blankets over me, and watch the snow fall rapidly from the sky until I drift off to sleep, asking myself how the hell I let this happen again, even if I was craving it.
I wake up later than normal, the sky a dark gray and the snow still coming down in large white flakes. I walk to the window and I’m shocked that the ground as far as I can see is blanketed in a deep layer of fresh snow, with more coming down on top of it. I pull on the sweatpants Dallas gave me last night, realizing that I’m still without a pair of panties. I open the door with a low creak and pad across the cold hardwood floor in my bare feet in search of Dallas.
As I walk through his house, a steady beat of bass gets louder and louder. I follow it to a closed door at the back of the house. Pulling the door open, the music is much louder, coupled with the hard-to-miss sounds of grunting and a rhythmic hammering. Deciding to scope it out, I walk blindly down the steps to Dallas’ basement to find his back to me.
He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His back and shoulder muscles tighten and flex as he punches unforgivingly on a large, hanging punching bag. He lands punch after punch with his gloved fists, moving to the beat of Nine Inch Nails. His body turns to the side as the bag sways with each of his heavy hits. He straightens his spine and grabs the bag between his gloves.
“Such a little creeper.”
“I wasn’t creeping on you. I was looking for you and found you, I was being polite. I didn’t want to interrupt your workout.”
“Is that so? I have reason to believe you’re a closet voyeur. Sorry to disappoint you with the sweatpants. I’m happy to take them off now if you’d like.” He faces me completely now, sweat making his body glisten. I bite my lip to stifle an appreciative moan. I need to change the subject before he distracts me further.
“The snow seems like a problem. Any word on how the roads are so I can get home?” I say with a bit more of an attitude than is necessary.
He moves to pull his gloves off, grabbing a towel, and wiping the sweat off his face and neck.
“All the roads are closed. Supposed to turn to freezing rain tonight. Everything is shut down. Looks like you’re stuck here.”
My mouth slackens, dropping open in shock. This can’t be real life.
“Dallas. No.”
“Here we fucking go.” He moves swiftly, grabbing my wrist in his large hand and pulling me behind him. Up the stairs we go into his living room, where he flicks the news on. The reporter’s voice fills the room, confirming what Dallas had told me.
“. . . winter storm warning. Closing roads, highways, as the state shuts down . . . emergency . . . prepare for power outages.”
“Dallas, what the fuck am I going to do? I can’t stay here.”
“Did you not hear her, Blaire? You’re staying. Now stop being so goddamn difficult for once in your life and deal with it. You think this is ideal for me? You’re everywhere! You’ve invaded the distillery, Dom’s, Sunday fucking dinners at my parents’ house, and now you’re in my house. I can’t escape you, Blaire, and it drives me fucking crazy. You drive me fucking crazy.”
I stumble back a step as if he slapped me.
“Wow. The fucking arrogance on you . . .” At a loss for words, I close my mouth and stare at him as he runs his hands through his hair. He’s still wearing nothing but those damn gray sweatpants, and my face flushes. They hang so low on his hips, exposing that mouthwatering V. I shake my head and look away from him. His body turns my brain to absolute mush. He walks up to me, running his hand across my cheek and combing his fingers into my hair.
“I see how I affect you. Even when I’m yelling and pissed off with you, just being close to me turns you on, doesn’t it?” His voice is softer now, seductive, but still laced with that arrogance he couldn’t shake if he tried. I straighten my spine and look at him.
“No. It doesn’t.”
His eyes rise in a challenge as his hand curls around my hair, pulling my body into his space. His free hand dips under my shirt before slipping in the loose band of the sweatpants I’m wearing. His fingers trace down my slit, easily slipping through my folds and dipping into my center. He pumps twice before removing his hand and holds his fingers out between us, the evidence of my arousal proving him right. He slips them into his mouth, licking and sucking my moisture from them before leaning down to meet my eyes straight on.
“Liar.”