Chapter 2
DILLON
I sit in my truck and let out a rough breath. Did she…? I grip the steering wheel, and my thoughts go haywire. London McCoy just said she wants me to want her.
Slowly, I get out of the truck and glare over at my personal truck that is sitting on a flat tire.
I stomp up the porch, open and shut the front door, and then without another thought, I go straight to London’s bedroom door.
I pound twice and then soften my knock on the third. Hell, there’s no reason to scare her to death.
I wait impatiently for her to answer, but she’s ignoring me.
I knock again, lighter this time, and then call out her name.
Still silent.
I call through the thick wood. “London, my hand’s busted up. Can you help me?”
It’s devious of me. I can surely clean myself up. Lord knows I’ve been doing it myself for a long time, but I know she won’t tell me no. If she thinks I’m hurt, she’s coming to help me.
I can hear her footsteps on the other side of the door, and then the door slowly squeaks open. Her cheeks are a rosy red, and eyes are round. “You must really be hurting if you want my help.”
I hate lying to her. Truth is, the cuts on my hand don’t hurt at all, but if I want her to talk to me, this is the only way to make it happen.
I turn so she doesn’t see the guilt on my face and walk down the hall to the bathroom.
After pulling out the first aid kit from under the sink and standing up, I realize what a bad idea this is.
I can barely contain myself when we’re surrounded by people.
Being alone with London is going to test all my willpower.
She’s standing right in front of me, looking at me worriedly.
She gently grabs my wrist and pulls me from the bathroom and then pushes me into the room that I’ve been using as my bedroom.
I look around, and just remembering how I’ve jacked off in here thinking about London makes me tense.
“Maybe we should go out to the living room.”
She puts a hand on her hip. “Just because I said what I said doesn’t mean I’m going to try and take advantage of you or anything. Sit down, Dillon, and let me look at your hand.”
I fall onto the edge of the bed after she gently shoves me. She lifts my hand and looks at my knuckles and hisses.
She rummages through the first aid kit. “This is all my fault.”
“Stop,” I tell her. “None of this is your fault. Regardless of anything that happened, he shouldn’t have touched you.”
She shrugs but nods. “Right.”
As she gets to work on my hand, I calmly do my own apologizing.
“I’m the one that should be sorry, London.
I’m sorry it took me so long to get there.
My truck has a flat tire, and I had to track down the ranch truck.
” I suck in a breath and let the guilt settle over me.
If anything had happened to her, I would never have forgiven myself.
I wait for her to look at me. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I knew where you were?”
She lifts her hand to the necklace I bought her. “I’m assuming the tracker you have in this.”
I gasp, surprised. “You knew?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, I knew. That’s the only reason I went off with him… I knew you’d come.”
I clear my throat. “London, uh, there’s things about me that you don’t know.”
She puts peroxide on my open cuts and blows on my knuckles. I suck in a breath as my dick twitches between my thighs. Yeah, I’m definitely jacking off tonight.
“What don’t I know?” she asks, looking into my eyes.
If I come clean, she’s probably going to freak out and fire me.
I clear my throat. “I approached Grayson Calhoun, head of Lone Star Securities, about this job.”
She shrugs. “You and half of Texas. The pay is good. The job is easy.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, usually it is.”
I nod as she finishes up cleaning the cuts on my hand and then picks up the Band-Aid wrappers. She walks over to the trash can in the corner and dumps them in it. I pat the bed next to me.
Her eyebrows skyrocket, but she comes to sit down next to me. I turn so I’m facing her. “No, I hired on at Lone Star because I knew that was the company your family used to hire a bodyguard.”
She tenses and for the first time, looks at me skeptically. “Okay…”
I nod. “I had seen you last year at the finals in Vegas. I was…” I clear my throat. “I’ve been obsessed… with you…”
I wait for her to jump up. To scream. To run out of the room, but all she does is tilt her head and watch me.
I continue. “You had a bodyguard, but he did a shit job. He let people get too close, and I was tired of him screwing up. I went to Grayson and told him I wanted the job.”
She bites her lip, and I can see she’s trying to make sense of it all. “Wait… so you got my bodyguard fired so you could have his job… because you’re obsessed with me?”
She’s not buying it. It’s like she’s looking for a different answer.
I lift my chin. “Yes.”
She opens her mouth, closes it, and then shakes her head. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you messing with me right now?”
Instead of answering her, I tell her everything that is on my mind. “I had to know you were safe, and I couldn’t just trust your safety to someone else.”
She holds her hands together on her lap. “So you got the job to keep me safe… is that it?”
I nod. “Yes.”
She rolls her hand in front of her, “Okay… and…”
I cross my arms over my chest to stop from reaching for her. “And, well, you’re too young for me.”
She leans away from me. “I’m too young for you?”
I nod. “Yes. Too… well… everything for me.”
She throws her hands up in the air. “I don’t even know what that means.”
I stand up and put some distance between us. I lean against the open door. “I didn’t take this job for any other reason than to make sure you’re protected.”
She stands up, and I tense, waiting and anticipating if she’s going to come closer. She tilts her head, watching me. “So I just want to make sure I got this right.”
I nod.
She takes a step toward me, and I press my back to the door. She smiles softly, as if she’s just discovered something. She moves closer until she stops in front of me, and I suck in a breath.
Her hand goes to my waist, and I expel the air in my lungs like I’ve been holding it for minutes.
Her smile gets even bigger.
It’s almost like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.