Chapter Eight
DALLAS
The hotel room door shuts behind us with a soft click.
Gemma doesn’t move toward the bed right away.
She stands there, watching me. Waiting.
The silence stretches.
My hand comes up to cradle her jaw. I brush her lower lip with my thumb, savoring the touch.
“Gemma,” I murmur. “If we do this… I don’t know how to give you half of me.”
Her fingers slide into the front of my shirt, curling into the fabric over my chest. Right over my heart. “Then don’t,” she whispers. There's no fear in her voice. No hesitation.
That's the moment I realize I love her.
I pull her to me and kiss her. Claiming her.
She meets me halfway.
Her hands slide up my shoulders and into my hair, tugging me closer.
I slide my palms down her back and over her hips, cupping her ass until she’s pressed against my hard length. “Feel what you do to me,” I whisper against her lips.
“Show me.” She nips my lower lip and kisses me harder.
Hell yes. My hands slide down the back of her thighs. I lift her effortlessly, and she wraps her legs around my hips, putting her hot core exactly where I want it.
Mine.
Now.
Always.
I carry her to the bed and lay her down gently—like something sacred—even though every nerve in my body is on fire.
“Be sure,” I growl. It’ll be damned hard, but if she wants me to pull back, I will.
She reaches for me.
“I want you, Dallas.”
The little restraint I had snaps. I rip my jacket off, then my shirt. Her gaze tracks every movement like she’s memorizing me.
She reaches for my arms, tracing the ink up my biceps and over my chest. Tats from my time in the military.
When I slide my hands up her thighs, she gasps and arches into my touch.
I take my time. I kiss her like I’m learning the shape of her mouth for survival. Maybe I am. Because she's giving me reason to stay.
Her fingers drag down my back, and her hips lift toward mine. Impatient.
I smile against her lips. “You’re dangerous, honey.”
“Good,” she breathes.
I strip her shirt off, kissing each inch of skin revealed. A lacy pink bra cups her breasts. I tug down one strap, then the other, then open the clasp and tug it free. Her pretty tits spill into my hands, and I kiss each one.
Gemma unbuttons her jeans and shimmies them down her hips, kicking off her shoes in the process.
A rusty chuckle escapes me. "In a hurry?"
"Yes." She pushes at my shoulders, rolling me onto my back and swings a leg over my hips, then tugs at my belt buckle.
I like this view just as much. I cup her breasts and tease her nipples, bringing them to hard points.
Gemma’s hips swivel over mine, rocking against my dick.
I lean up and suck one of her nipples into my mouth, moaning with desire.
"You're distracting," She tugs my pants open and slides her hand inside, wrapping around my cock.
Jesus. I pop off her tit and press my forehead to her shoulder, barely keeping my composure. The feel of her hand on me is driving me wild.
"Like that?" Gemma asks, squeezing gently.
"Distracting," I growl.
She grins.
"Need to taste you again." I flip her onto her back and strip off the last of her clothes. Mine follow in a pile on the floor.
Pressing her thighs wide, I lower my head and eat her sweet pussy. She tastes as good as the first time. I lap at her, sucking her folds, pushing her higher until she’s practically riding my beard. Her body trembles with need.
“Dallas,” she cries.
I thrust a finger into her hot core, loving the way she clenches on me. Her breasts thrust up as her back arches. She’s so fucking beautiful. But I’m far from done. I slide my finger out, then thrust with two, preparing her body.
Gemma shivers from head to toe, her core gripping my fingers tight as I fuck her with them.
She’s close. But I won’t take what I need until she comes for me.
Lowering my head, I flick her clit with the end of my tongue, tasting her heat, then suck her nub until she cries out with pleasure.
She coats my tongue and beard with her release, and it turns me on so much, I drive her to a second orgasm.
When I finally move over her, when our bodies align and there’s no more space left between us, I pause and look at her.
Really look. From the thick blonde hair I love, to her gray eyes and plump lips. Her satiny skin and round hips. To the softness and warmth she shows me every time she smiles. No matter what comes next, I will always remember this moment.
Then I make her mine in the only way that matters—I give her everything I am.
Lining up at her entrance, I push slowly into her body, allowing myself to feel every inch. Every tiny clench and sweet slide of heat.
She clings to me, her nails digging into my shoulders, whispering my name.
When I'm fully seated, I pause and drag a deep breath in. She feels so fucking good. It’s never felt this way before. Like coming home. My heart clenches tight.
Whatever this is between us, it’s real. And I want it.
I rock my hips and push back in. Slow at first, building the pleasure between us. Gazing into her eyes, I see the same tenderness I feel. The same need. My hips speed up, plunging into her tight sheath, feeling her muscles grip me.
Gemma wraps her arms around my neck, holding me tight. She’s close.
Thrusting my hand between our bodies, I rub my fingers through her wet folds, then stroke her until she’s trembling on the edge.
One light pinch and she cries out my name, coming hard.
My hips jerk and I slam into her.
Gemma cries out and comes again. "Yes," she says. "Don't hold anything back. I'm yours, Dallas."
That's all it takes. I erupt with a shout, emptying into her body, coming harder than I ever have.
Afterward, I pull her tight against my chest and wrap us in the sheets.
She traces her fingers over the puckered scar on my shoulder. If she knows it's a bullet wound, she doesn't say so.
I press my lips to her hair.
“You’re leaving soon,” she says quietly.
I don’t lie to her. Not about this. “Yes. To end it.”
“Will you come back?”
The truth lodges in my throat. I’ve walked into death before. Many times. I’ve never cared whether I walked back out.
Until now.
“Yes.”
"To me?"
"For you." Not as a friend, but to claim her as mine. Days ago, I was prepared to walk away from my entire life. Everything and everyone I knew. I won’t walk away from her.
Not now.
Not ever.
She smiles and snuggles closer, trusting me completely as she drifts to sleep.
For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like a weapon.
I feel like a man who has something worth fighting for.