16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Blaire
I wake up alone in Dallas’ room after our night together. I hadn’t intended on sleeping in his bed, but after the last round of sex, he cleaned me up with a warm washcloth, wrapped me in his arms, and I fell asleep quickly. It was the best sleep of my entire life. I didn’t hover in the in-between space of awake and the dream world, fearful of drifting too deep where my nightmares could reach me.
My heart flips in my chest as I struggle to come to terms with why. There’s something about Dallas that my subconscious recognizes. Something that calms my nervous system. I don’t want to get too attached to that thought because this ends the moment the roads are clear. It’ll be nothing more than a blip in my memories of a time that I got to live out an extremely pleasurable, wildly intense sexual experience. An experience that will make our working relationship slightly uncomfortable, but we’re both adults.
Having laid here long enough, the smell of Dallas surrounding me, I get out of bed—pulling the sheet with me to cover up—grab a shirt from Dallas’ dresser, and pad across the hallway to the guest bedroom I’m staying in. Once in the bathroom, I crank the shower as hot as it will go and wait for the steam to fill the room and fog the mirror before stepping in.
The bathroom door opens and shuts loudly, causing me to jump, my hand covering my heart.
“Holy shit! You scared me! Don’t you know how to make yourself known before you barge in on people?”
“Apparently not, now let me in. I’m sweaty from my workout.”
“What are you doing, Dallas? Your shower is in your room.”
“What’s it look like I’m doing, princess? Showering with you.”
I move farther into the water as he steps into the shower and closes the door behind him. He wastes no time crowding my space to get under the spray.
“FUCK, Blaire! It’s hot as shit! How are you not burning?” he yells as he shuffles out of the spray of the hot water. I double over laughing at his reaction, but he seems genuinely concerned and pained, which makes me laugh harder.
“I like it this hot. It’s relaxing.”
“Of course it is. It’s not burning you because it’s hell water, you demon. Turn it down some so I can shower without melting the skin off my bones.”
My laughter is uncontrollable at this big, strong, muscular man as he whines and shies away from some hot water. I reach up on my toes and turn the faucet in his direction, causing him to move farther away, against the tile wall, his leg bending up in defense.
“Blaire!” he yells, his eyes going wide.
“Okay, okay, okay!” I say through laughter as I move the faucet back and adjust the gauge to a more tolerable temperature. He moves into my space in one large step, grabbing my hips and jerking me to him, pushing my back against the tile wall.
“Glad to see you’re mortal after all,” I tell him.
“You’re a menace.”
“You love it,” I chuckle as he brushes the wet hair from my face.
I don’t know why that comes out of my mouth, and based on his reaction, he’s feeling the same way. He doesn’t move though, he just continues to look at me like I struck a chord, suspending us in a tense moment that neither of us moves to break. His eyes are so crystal blue they’re almost transparent, and being the center of his focus makes my heart beat rapidly in my chest.
“Yeah, princess. I do,” he says before he kisses me. His kiss is the same as it always is, passionate and demanding, and my heart tumbles around frantically, making me feel things that I shouldn’t. His fingers slide into my hair, holding my head in his big palm, angling me exactly where he wants me. Our tongues caress in the center and I lift my leg, attempting to hook it around his waist. The height difference makes it hard, but he grabs my thigh with his hand and squats down, lining his thick length up with my core and working his way in with a few powerful thrusts, each piercing making him feel so much thicker.
After a moment, he’s sliding home, and the feeling is indescribable. Those damn barbells rub the inside of me, making me see stars. He pounds into me, still holding my head and never breaking our kiss. He keeps his cock buried deep, grinding it into me, rubbing my clit on his pelvis. The hair on his body is trimmed short and the rough stubble adds a painful sensation to the pleasure, something I’m realizing I love. But deep down, I know it’s so specific to him.
I moan into his mouth as he kisses me, his fist in my hair tightening brutally, his other hand digging into the flesh of my thighs. He fucks me hard and I love every minute of it.
“This isn’t going to take long, princess. You feel too good. Always so good.”
“I don’t care, just don’t stop.”
I run my hands over his back, the muscles straining and strong, the water cascading down over us. He sucks my tongue into his mouth before pulling away and resting his forehead against mine, his hand never leaving my cheek, our breaths mingling.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he huffs, his mouth slightly parted, eyes hard on my own. He feels insanely good, hitting every part of me and lighting me up from the inside. My orgasm doesn’t build, it slams through me like a freight train. My moans are smothered as he captures my mouth with his, pressing our lips hard together as he pumps into my body two more times before releasing. Our bodies tremble against each other as we ride this wave of bliss.
When we come up for air, the water has run cold, and I start to shiver. We take turns rinsing off quickly before Dallas opens the door and grabs a huge fluffy towel, wrapping it around me as I step out. He steps out behind me, grabbing one for himself and drying off. It’s bizarrely comfortable and domestic.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“God, yes.”
We dry off and throw on comfy clothes, Dallas in a pair of black, low-hanging joggers, and me in one of his T-shirts. Spending the last few days without panties has been a bit strange, but with how often Dallas wants to be inside me, it’s been beneficial. Speaking from experience, he’s the kind of man that will rip them off you if they stand in his way. We move to the kitchen and work together to make pancakes when his phone alert starts to go off in rapid succession, vibrating on the bar in front of us. Then it starts to ring.
“I should answer this to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Of course, I’ll finish these.”
He grabs his phone but only walks to the other side of the bar, answering the call.
“Hey, Momma.”
My heart squeezes. I’ve never been able to say those words and I have to swallow down the envy. I try not to eavesdrop, but he isn’t doing anything to make his conversation private. I focus on my task, flipping the pancakes and watching them cook on the flat top.
“Merry Christmas to you and Dad, Mom.”
My eyes go wide, and I look at him, his equally as large. It’s Christmas? I quickly do the math in my head. Kinsey’s birthday was on the twenty-third. I’ve spent two nights here so far. Holy shit, it’s Christmas Day. I woke up Christmas morning in my boss’ bed and then was fucked by him in his shower. We’ve been so preoccupied living in this little bubble it seems we both forgot the date. His house isn’t decorated at all for the holiday, so it wasn’t even on my radar. Christmas is usually a sad reminder of how alone I am. I have a few traditions of my own that I hope to share with my family one day, but I don’t go all out and celebrate. Dallas finishes up his phone call, talking to his mom, dad, and sister, Kinsey. I plate our pancakes just as he’s returning to the kitchen.
“Looks like we’ve been a little preoccupied and forgot about Christmas.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I say with a bit of a fake laugh, slightly uncomfortable with the situation.
“Do you need to call your parents and grandparents?”
I stiffen, my body tense, my hand hovering with the spatula extended to place it in the sink.
“I, uh, my phone died sometime yesterday. I’ll reach out to them later.”
He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions but moves in front of me, putting his hands on my hips, his touch light and comforting. I relax into him, releasing a deep breath. He leans down and kisses my cheek, sweetly.
“Merry Christmas, Blaire.”
“Merry Christmas, Dallas.”
We spend the rest of the day on the couch, taking turns picking Christmas movies and eating an obscene amount of popcorn. I wanted to string it together to make a garland, but Dallas lacks the string and needles. Being with him is the complete opposite of what I thought it would be. He’s so much more complex than the brash, arrogant dickhead I see at work. He has a huge heart, loves his family more than anything in the world, and is one of the most genuinely caring people I’ve ever met.
After being locked up with him for days, I’ve learned that the brute side of him comes out of pure protection over what and who he loves most. The distillery is one of those things, and regardless of his own twin brother hiring me and his younger brothers and parents supporting it, I am the sole representation of the disruption to what he loves. I shouldn’t feel guilty because I love my job more than anything, but I do.
“Favorite candy?” he asks.
“Twizzlers Pull ‘n’ Peel, on the rare occasion I eat candy. You?”
“Twix bars. Favorite music genre?”
“Post Malone.”
“That’s not a genre.”
“I will fight you on this. He can do any and all genres, so he is a whole genre himself. Don’t knock him because my claws will come out.”
“Touchy! Okay, favorite song?”
“‘Chemical’ by Post Malone. You?”
“Wow. I listen to everything, but right now it’s, ‘Feel Like That’ by Sublime and Stick Figure. Dogs or cats?”
“Neither. Especially not cats. Never cats. You?”
“Dogs. Can’t stand cats. They’re temperamental and I swear to fuck they hold grudges.”
“Alright, it’s your turn, we’ve already watched A Christmas Story , Jingle All the Way , Home Alone , and Die Hard , which isn’t a Christmas movie, by the way.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Fine, with that logic, I’m picking A Nightmare Before Christmas .”
“That’s a Halloween movie.”
“Like hell it is, Dallas! You made me sit through DIE HARD . And Halloween should be celebrated year-round because it’s the best.”
“You’re one of those adults who dress up still, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Oh, I absolutely am. And I splurge on all the candy and love giving it out to all the kids.”
“That’s cute. What do you dress up as? I want to picture it, paint it for me.”
“You’re an idiot. This year I dressed up as a witch, the year before that, Wanda Maximoff, before that, a zombie Princess Ariel, which only went over well with the older kids...”
“That’s actually pretty awesome. Maybe next year you can dress up as a schoolgirl for me.”
I swallow hard at his words and look away. There won’t be a next year with him and I need to remember that. I pick up the remote and find A Nightmare Before Christmas and turn it on, relaxing into the songs and story of one of my favorite movies. After the movie is over, we work together to make grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for dinner. We eat together in silence, but the tension is thick and strained, my walls slowly being put back in place. It was so easy to get caught up in how effortless it was being alone with him. But this doesn’t change anything. I need to focus on creating a life here in Aspen Ridge, and that banks on keeping my job. You don’t get that by sleeping with your boss, who has no idea who you actually are.
“I’m exhausted, I think I’m going to bed,” I say after we clean up from dinner.
“I’ll meet you there, want a bath first?”
While that sounds incredible, I know it’s not a good idea. Baths are sweet, romantic even. That’s not what this is.
“Raincheck? I think spending the entire day being a couch potato actually made me more tired.” Which is a lie. After the sleep I got last night in Dallas’ bed, I’ll be lucky if I can sleep tonight. Clearly reading me like he always does, he nods but doesn’t push. Which is appreciated.
“Yeah, maybe tomorrow. I’ll let you get some sleep.”
“I had a good day, Dallas. Merry Christmas.”
“I had the best day, princess. Merry Christmas.”
I head to bed, working through my sad attempt at a nighttime routine, using water to wash my face, and brushing my teeth with the spare toothbrush. Snuggling up under the blankets of the guest bedroom isn’t the same as sleeping in Dallas’ bed with his strong arms wrapped around me. Even if it was for only one night, it was the peace he somehow brought me that carried me through a night of sleep like I’ve never had before.
I lay on the soft sheets with the blankets wrapped tightly around me and stare out the big window again. The moon isn’t as bright tonight, blocked by Aspen Ridge’s near-constant cloud cover, but it looks like the snow has finally stopped. I lay here and think about the last few days and how quickly everything changed. I do everything I can to convince myself that falling for my boss is a terrible, awful idea, until sleep claims me.
I’m wide awake, never able to fully rest since moving in with the Cains. The turn of my doorknob sets alarm bells off in my head and I quickly roll to my side, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping that he’ll just go away. The door opens for a moment before closing again and I hold my breath tightly. Maybe it was just Sherry checking that I didn’t sneak out. I wait in silence for a moment before the soft patter of his steps comes closer and closer to my bed. My body begins to shake, fear racking my limbs. Flight or fight aren’t the only two options. Sometimes fear has such a strong grip that you’re frozen.
“I know you’re awake, Blaire. I know you’re waiting for me. I can smell your arousal calling to me.”
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I hate my life. I hate that my parents were coked-up drug addicts who would rather shoot up than take care of their child. I hate the foster care system. I hate that I don’t have any power or control. I hate my body and the attention it brings.
His rough hands drag the blanket off of me, exposing my body to him. I purposefully wear as much clothing as possible in hopes of deterring him. I never want to give the wrong impression and am so aware of what men see and want. His hand dips under my sweatshirt and I lock my arm down to prevent him from going any higher.
“Don’t play hard to get. I know you want this. Let Daddy take care of you.” My stomach turns while my head swims with what to do. His hand starts to dip south, and I no longer have control over my body, I jerk upright and throw up all over my blankets, my body emptying itself from the fear and adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.
“You disgusting bitch!” His hand comes down hard and fast across my cheek, bouncing my head off the wall next to me. “Clean this fucking mess up. I’ll be back, Blaire. This is happening. You owe me for all the shit we do for you.”
“Baby, it’s okay. Blaire, wake up, it’s just a nightmare, you’re safe. Baby, come back to me.”
I’m pulled from my nightmare by Dallas’ voice, and his body surrounding mine. I’m tangled in the bedsheets, my body drenched in sweat, and my chest heaving as I gasp for air. My eyes fly open to find him in only his briefs, one big arm wrapped around me, the other brushing the hair out of my face and cupping my cheek.
“There she is. Breathe. You’re at my house in my guest room, you’re safe. Just breathe for me, yeah?”
The nausea settles as I gain control over my breathing. His smell envelopes me in a warm caress, and I allow myself to lean into it. I’ve never been able to calm down after one of these nightmares so quickly. But right now, I feel so comforted, so safe—a first for me.
“That was some nightmare, princess. Are you okay?”
“No . . . I’m really not.” My voice is hoarse, barely audible. I must have been screaming. I wait for embarrassment to wash over me, but it doesn’t come.
“C’mere.” Dallas untangles me from the sheets and crawls under them with me, pulling my body flush against his. His body is warm and envelopes me completely, his arms wrapping around me, his hand running up and down my spine. I take a deep inhale of his scent and my heartbeat slows. Wrapped in a bubble of comfort that I’ve never experienced before, I rest my head on his large chest and listen to his steady breathing, his calm heartbeat. Sinking into him, I allow myself this rare moment of safety.
“Sleep. I’ve got you. I’ll chase all your demons away.”
Tears escape my eyes, because for the first time in my life, I don’t feel alone.