Homebound

33. Take It All

33

TAKE IT ALL

WYATT

S he’s late, so I’m panicking.

I’m pacing by the barn door, my heartbeat battering in my chest while I glance at the rooster clock every five seconds. I squint at the ticking needle.

Are those hands moving slower ?

It’s almost nine, so Dakota should be home from the rodeo by now. Vi is finally asleep in her crib, but it took forever to get her there. She could probably sense my anxiety, so I read her five bedtime stories—complete with voices for Tommy the Turtle—just to calm her down. Now the silence feels unbearable as I wait, worry gnawing at me.

Moonlight crawls higher and higher on the wood floorboards while crickets chirp through the open window, and it would be peaceful if my ears weren’t ringing. It’s always like this when I can’t watch her.

See her.

When I don’t know if she’s safe.

Suddenly, gravel crunches on the driveway, and a minute later, the front door swings open, bringing with it a rush of warm night air and a sight that makes my stomach clench.

Dakota stumbles in, supported by her dad, his strong arm around her waist. She’s covered in dirt, sweat, and… is that blood? I’m going to lose my shit if that’s her blood. Her face is pale, and her brown eyes are glossed over like she’s seen a ghost.

I rush to her side, and she doesn’t even look at me, just stares blankly at the floorboards. “What’s wrong?” I panic. “Did something happen? Is she okay?”

Colt’s face is grim, his brow furrowed deeply as he gently, so gently, brushes a strand of Dakota’s brown hair off her face. “We had a bit of a scare at the rodeo, and I think she’s in shock. Hell, I’m in shock, but one of us had to drive Daisy Blue home.”

“What happened?” I ask, scanning her for injuries. “Did she get hurt?”

“No, but one of our boys got speared by a horn, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.” Colt winces. “He’ll live, but he won’t be the same.”

I rush out a breath of relief that she’s okay, but then I feel guilty for not thinking of the guy.

I clasp my hands behind my neck. “Shit, that’s brutal.”

Dakota pushes Colt off her and heads straight to the liquor cabinet, her movements jerky and unsteady. She yanks out a bottle of tequila and pours herself a hefty shot with trembling hands.

Colt and I exchange worried glances when she downs it in one go. She goes to pour another, but he stops her with a hand on top of the bottle.

“One shot will dull those feelings, darlin’, but two? That’ll make those emotions a hell of a lot worse. Trust me. It’s a slippery slope when it comes to drinkin’ away your problems, and it normally just ends with you feeling all those things you tried to dull in the first place.”

She blinks at him, blinks again, and then she slowly lowers the tequila bottle. He kisses her forehead, and watching them be so raw with each other, so real, it’s exactly the type of relationship I want to grow with my daughter.

“There you go,” he rasps. “Go shower off and get a good night’s sleep, alright? A good night of sleep can solve almost any problem.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything. Colt spins in his boots and crooks a finger at me. I strut up to him but keep my focus on Dakota breathing hard in my periphery.

He peers at me, those dark eyes even darker with concern. “You’ll take care of my girl?”

I fight the urge to say she’s mine too and nod instead. “Always, sir.”

He seems to soften at that, and maybe I’ve cracked his hard exterior. “Good man. I always knew you were a good one.”

After stepping back, he murmurs something low and soothing in Dakota’s ear and wraps her in a tight hug, his rugged hands gently patting her. She doesn’t hug him back, just lets her arms dangle at her sides like a rag doll. After a moment, Colt sighs and heads out the door, the heavy wooden slab creaking shut behind him.

It’s just us, the crickets, and the moonlight now.

I take a careful step forward, searching Dakota’s face for instructions on how to handle this situation, but I find nothing. She’s still panting, breathing hard, and she’s a mess.

“Come on, honey,” I try to soothe. “Let’s get you in the shower.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, but it’s like she doesn’t even hear me. Her eyes glaze over, staring right through me as if I’m invisible.

I wrap my arm around her waist, and she clutches me like a lifeline. Pushing open the back door, we stumble into the warm Texas night while I try to hold her up.

The air hums with crickets and rustling leaves as I guide her to the outdoor shower behind the barn. The wooden panels offer the perfect amount of privacy under a blanket of stars, and there’s no need for light with the full moon brightening the inky darkness. I’ve always loved the stars in the Hill Country. You can’t see the constellations in the city.

I turn the bronze faucet, and water cascades down.

Dakota jumps, startled by the noise.

“It’s just the water,” I murmur in my most calming voice, sticking my hand under the stream. “I’m checking to make sure it’s warm for you.”

She looks down at her hands, caked in a grimy mixture of dirt, sweat, and blood. She stares until her hands start trembling. That tremble ripples through her entire body, and she starts shaking violently, her teeth chattering as if she’s freezing to death. I've never been so scared for her.

Suddenly, she clutches her stomach, her breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps. “So much blood. There’s so much blood.”

In reality, there are only a few droplets, but she seems trapped in a daze, fixated on the thought. She’s not moving into the water, and the shower’s still running.

I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me and not the blood droplets on her hands. “Come here, honey. Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

She remains motionless, lost in some faraway thought. I step closer and gently tug on her jacket zipper. “Do you want me to help?” I whisper softly, hoping to break through her daze.

She gives me an absent nod.

“Are you sure?” I ask again.

She nods a yes, more forcefully this time.

“Okay,” I say, kissing her forehead. “I’ve got you.”

I slowly tug down the zipper, the metallic sound slicing through the night. Carefully, I peel off the dirty leather, but it’s different. Bigger. I squint down at the fabric. This isn’t her jacket.

“What happened to your protective vest?” I murmur. “This doesn’t look like yours.”

All she does is shake with chattering teeth. It’s like I’m speaking into a void. The jacket doesn’t matter, so I slide it off her shoulders, dropping it with a soft thud, which leaves her in nothing but a white tank top.

I swallow, thinking about all the clothing coming off next. “Arms up.”

She listens.

She raises her arms, and in one fluid motion, I peel off her sports bra and tank top so she’s topless in front of me. She’s still shaking, so I grip her hips to steady her. I catalog all the bruises and cuts on her skin before I bend down, kneeling in front of her until my eyes are level with her bare stomach.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” I say. “I’m going to get you out of these jeans.”

She clutches me in a desperate grip, like how I imagine she holds onto the bull rope. I press a gentle kiss to her abs to let her know I’m still here. I’ve still got her.

With a soft snap, I undo the button on her jeans and carefully drag them down her legs, coaxing her to step out of her dusty jeans. “Lift your leg for me.”

She listens but keeps repeating the phrase, “So much blood.” Her voice trembles more with each repetition until she’s standing in nothing but her white cotton underwear, the moonlight highlighting her every curve.

I let myself look at her bare chest for one second, and then, squeezing my eyes shut, I gently tug down her panties, not allowing myself to look anymore. Once she steps out of them, I move to the stream of water. I test the temperature of the shower to make sure it’s warm enough before turning to head back inside.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

At my words, she jerks out a hand, panic flaring in her amber eyes. “No. Don’t leave me. That’s what he said,” she repeats over and over again as she curls in on herself.

I don’t know what he she’s talking about, but I’m back at her side in an instant, crushing her to my chest. “Hey, it’s okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

She seems to go from feeling nothing to feeling everything. Her body starts to tremble, and her face contorts with panic. She clutches her chest, panting like she’s drowning in her emotions.

I’ve never seen her feel so much. She’s not like this with anyone else, just me.

“I can’t breathe,” she gasps, her voice rising in desperation, each word choked out between rapid breaths.

“In and out,” I say, my voice steady but filled with urgency.

Her entire body starts shaking as she stares down at the dirt and blood on her hands. “I can’t breathe! Get it off!” she screams, voice cracking like a whip. Tears stream down her disheveled face, carving rivers through the dirt.

I wrap her up in my arms, clutching her fiercely to my chest, and do something reckless because I don’t know how else to help—I drag us both beneath the stream of warm water.

Her, completely naked.

Me, completely clothed.

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you,” I whisper, holding her tight as the warm water cascades over both of us.

She continues to sob against my chest, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as the water washes away all the dirt, blood, and mess on her skin. I hold her tight, so damn tight, the water soaking my T-shirt and jeans, but I don’t care.

She needs me, so I’m here.

We sink to the concrete ground of the shower, her straddling my lap, and all I do is hold her, stroke her hair, rub her back as the water soaks her naked body, and all the while, I murmur “It’s okay, it’s okay” in her ear. We stay like that for so long, my fingertips shrivel into raisins.

But then, with a sudden movement, she kisses me.

It’s not so much a kiss as an urgent attack against my lips, and it’s wet, making her lips slide over mine. For a second, I’m so caught off guard that I can’t help but kiss her back, tugging the strands of her hair. Until I remember that the last thing I want is for her to regret anything that happens between us.

“Dakota, hey, hold on,” I say, pulling back slightly to cup her cheeks. Droplets of water cling to her dark lashes.

“Please, Wyatt,” she begs in a cracking voice. “ Please. I just need to feel something good. Just let me feel something good tonight.”

She twists her fingers in my soaking shirt, pressing into my chest. She starts biting my neck, sucking, pulling my hair like she needs me, desperately. She’s making me ache for her, but this isn’t how I imagined this happening.

“Dakota, I can’t…” I let out a broken groan. “This isn’t how I wanted anything to happen between us. Don’t beg for me. It makes me want to give you everything.”

“Please,” she begs anyway. “It’s never… I’ve never…”

“You’ve never what?”

She sucks in a shaky breath. “It’s never meant something before, but you do. You mean something to me, and I just want you tonight.”

She presses little kisses to my stubble, and then she bites my bottom lip.She’s destroying my self-control with her pleas.

I feel like an absolute bastard when I get hard.

She notices and reaches down to unbutton my soaked jeans, but my fingers form handcuffs around her wrists. I can’t tell her to stop because part of me doesn’t want her to stop, even though we should. I’ve wanted her for so long that my control is in shreds. She seems to sense that I want this just as much as she needs this.

She grinds all over me as the water pours down beneath the blanket of stars. “Please, Wyatt.”

“I didn’t think it would happen like this,” I say through the shower rain.

She sniffs, and fuck, she’s killing my resolve. “Just… please ?”

Her eyes fill with a pain that cuts deep. I can’t stand it, her being in pain because of me. She needs this, and I’ve never been good at denying her, but I don’t want to give it all up yet. “I don’t have a condom. We can’t.”

Dumbass. I carried around the same condom for five years when I was a virgin, but of course I forget it with the woman of my dreams.

“I don’t care. I’m on birth control, and I’ve never had sex without one. I trust you more than anyone in the world,” she begs, fingers twisting in my wet shirt. “I want you. Only you. Do you…” She hiccups. “Do you not want me?”

That breaks my resolve.

“Dakota,” I growl, forcing her to look at me in the shower rain. “You’re the only woman I want. Hell, you’re the only woman I see . I’m desperate for every part of you.”

With a heavy groan, I surrender myself to her. I kiss her fiercely and slide two fingers into her, feeling the intense, velvety heat of her pussy, and I nearly come in my jeans at the warmth. I have to sink my teeth into her shoulder so I don’t lose control.

She loses all control and starts thrusting against my hand.

This is too much.

It’s all too much.

The friction against my cock makes it throb, the pleasure bordering on pain, but I like it almost as much as her nails digging into my back. With my other hand, I clutch her ass, pulling her impossibly close, our bodies melding together under the cascade of water, her wetness coating my fingers.

“Take what you need from me,” I groan against her lips. “I’m yours, so take it all.”