Chapter 20
Dixie
Tyler led me upstairs to his apartment. When the door closed, he faced me.
“That lake is barely an hour away. I’m sending my full team, plus apparently Convict, and Kane has a four-hour time limit for being away from Lovelyn.
Since I claimed ye, I’ll obey the same rules, though I willnae leave the building. ”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll coordinate their efforts from the comms centre downstairs.”
My cheeks heated, but I didn’t try to escape his intense stare. “Don’t you want to go?”
He’d been stuck kidnapping and babysitting me. No sex, so no using up all that testosterone. Boy needed a run.
Tyler shrugged, stress obvious in his tensed shoulders.
I tried again. “I don’t want to get in the way of your job.”
“And I said I won’t leave ye. I’ll ask Riordan to guard the hall so you’re safe going to and from Cassie’s, but I won’t be far away. Any second ye need me, I’m there.”
Swift relief replaced my fear. I didn’t hide it.
Tyler’s eyes gleamed in the light.
He examined my features as if searching for something. Then he turned away, opening one of the boxes on the table. “Earlier, downstairs.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “On the cam girls’ floor?”
Still he didn’t look me in the eye, sorting through objects I was certain he didn’t see. “That man. Your ex-partner.”
“Lex who you nearly beheaded? What about him?”
Tyler failed to form a sentence.
I tried for him. “You know I’ve never slept with anyone for feelings.”
“I know.”
“Or had any partner beyond for work.”
No reply this time.
“So what’s with the jelly vibes?”
Tyler was quiet for a moment. “If that’s the kind of work you’re considering, which makes sense, would you do it with him?”
The rush of something new flooded my system. A shiver of delicate need over my skin. This, I liked so much. Knowledge that he, huge, patient Tyler, wanted a part of me. And he didn’t want to share.
Slowly, I moved closer. “Yes, I thought about working as a cam girl. It could solve my problem of what to do with my life, and I’d get to stay here.
But I also told you I couldn’t have sex like that again.
Lex is a nice guy, but I don’t want to work with him.
Even if videos of couples make bank.” I pushed my luck. “Know what I do want?”
“What?”
“To see if I can still do it. Perform while someone watches me.”
Finally, he raised his gaze. It scalded. “That what ye need from me?”
It was my turn to go quiet, my breath catching in my throat and stealing my words.
We didn’t have long. He had to go coordinate a raid, and I was meeting the girls.
That tight timing added to the tension stringing me up.
If we’d had a full evening ahead of us, it would have been too much.
But cut that down to mere minutes, like the girls working the cameras had, and suddenly this felt easier.
Tyler reached behind him and gripped the table. “Ask me, Dixie.”
“Would you watch me?”
His slow nod sent my pulse skyrocketing.
To hide my mixed-up emotions, I twisted, peering back over my shoulder to beckon him, like I would’ve done to a client in the brothel. “Follow me. Bring something to sit on.”
The low drag of the dining room chair pursued me down the hall to the bedroom.
Inside, I snapped on a lamp, though the lights from the arched windows to the city created a pretty glow.
I slipped off my heels, my actions reflected in a big mirror on the wardrobe as I worked through how I’d do this for a real client.
There would be lingerie, for sure, something lacy and revealing.
I had the nicest collection of tiny thongs and exquisite bras.
I hid my shaking hands behind my back and faced Tyler. “When you emptied my apartment, you brought the contents of my underwear drawer, right?”
He inclined his head.
“Go pick out what you want to see me in.”
Tyler settled in the chair, a few feet from the bed.
I tutted. “I’m in day clothes.”
He didn’t budge.
If skintight jeans and a hoodie were working for him, who was I to judge? I knelt on the large bed, a hand to the wooden post. “I’d start out by asking what my client is into. What he wants from his girl. What turns you on, Tyler?”
His lips curved. “I’m looking at her.”
He was impossible. I planted my hands on my hips. “I mean kinks.”
“I don’t have any.” He stared for a beat longer then sat forward, his gaze never leaving me.
From his pocket, he extracted his keys. He stripped one off and tossed it to the bed.
“Mine for this apartment. I was serious when I said the place is yours. Manny can change the passcode to whatever ye like and he won’t tell me. ”
My heart sank. “You’re leaving me?”
Tyler shook his head, his expression tight. “I made my claim to everyone else, but yours is the only opinion that matters on crossing any lines.”
I followed his train of thought. From kidnap to consent. I loved that. Adored how he put my needs above his, even though I’d asked for this.
I ducked my chin, emotion rushing over the heat. “You make me into something precious. I’ve never been that to anyone.”
Tyler didn’t look away. Not once.
It was that steady regard that allowed me to keep going.
“Hands stay where I can see them,” I said softly.
His hands formed fists, knuckles whitening.
I inhaled, letting the breath travel all the way down. Stripping was familiar territory. My body remembered even when my mind freaked out.
I reached for the hem of my hoodie and didn’t rush it. Let the fabric slide over my skin inch by inch. Felt the air kiss my stomach, my ribs. When it cleared my chest, I paused, just long enough to notice the way my pulse skittered under my fingers.
Tyler’s breath hitched.
That sound curled something warm and reckless low in my belly.
I rolled my shoulders, easing the hoodie the rest of the way off, and dropped it to the floor. No posing. I didn’t perform. I just existed, kneeling on the bed in a soft cotton bra and skin, letting myself feel solid. Present.
“Still watching?” I kept my voice light.
“Like I could look away,” he muttered.
I smiled and reached for the button of my jeans. Slow and deliberate. This time, I did arch. Just a little. Not only for him, but for me. To feel the line of my own body, the strength in it, the familiarity.
The jeans slid down my hips. I inched out of them and knelt again, spine tall, resting my hands on my spread thighs.
Despite the lack of stage makeup, and the plain pink underwear, I felt good.
Not perfect, but real.
And wanted.
The chair creaked under Tyler, his restraint obvious in the tension coiled through him.
My gaze dropped to his chest. The way his t-shirt clung there. The way his breathing had deepened. Then it went lower.
“Your turn,” I said.
His head snapped up.
“Strip,” I clarified. “So I can see if I’m doing this right.”
For a few heartbeats, he appeared like he might argue. Then he swallowed, plucked his shirt, and pulled it over his head.
I watched every inch. The broad planes of his chest. The old scars and ink, catching the lamplight. How his skin flushed under my attention.
Heat bloomed behind my ribs.
“More,” I said when he stilled.
He stood, unbuttoned his jeans, and pushed them down. Kicked them aside with his boots and socks. He remained in his boxer shorts, muscles taut, hands flexing as if it took effort not to reach for me.
I liked him obeying me. His rigid body and slow actions. It was grounding and heady all at once.
“You’re not done,” I breathed.
Tyler’s jaw clenched, but he stripped the shorts, giving me an eyeful of his dick when he freed it. Huge. Hard as nails and with a thick vein. My breathing stuttered.
“Sit,” I managed.
He did, sprawling in the seat, not hiding anything from my view. So I let my gaze roam his beautiful body, unhurried, reclaiming another part of myself, one that liked knowing the effect I had. One that really liked him naked.
I traced my fingers up my stomach; he swallowed. I twined one in my bra strap; his dick bobbed.
For a few precious seconds of playing, of stroking my curves, of tiny reveals, it worked.
I felt beautiful. In control.
Whatever I did, Tyler liked. His dick showed me as well as any words could. He was fully hard, his erection jutting from his lap, untouched but so rigid. I memorised the sight, the vein, the precum that soaked the end.
Then my gaze snagged on my reflection in the mirror and the faint silver line across my throat that caught the light.
And everything wobbled.
Earlier, when I’d done my makeup, I’d taken care to blend out that line, but the hours that passed had revealed it again.
It was gross. A slice across what had been a carefully perfected body.
The words Sullivan and his men had said to me repeated in my head.
Their rape attempt that became a rejection.
“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked.
I couldn’t stop looking at myself in the mirror. Not seeing the sexy girl anymore but the broken one.
Ruined. Disgusting.
Movement sounded, then the bed dipped. Tyler knelt behind me, his arms coming around to hold me to him. He’d put his shorts back on before allowing this touch, but that didn’t stop me feeling how hard he still was. I shivered in his arms.
He spoke low, his mouth next to my ear. “Tell me what just happened.”
I turned my head to show the scar. “This.”
Tyler kissed my throat.
I whimpered at how good it felt.
One big hand splayed across my belly. Flurries of need danced through me.
“This is what I see.”
Another hot kiss landed on my shoulder, then one to my cheek. Tyler nudged my face so my gaze met his in the reflection.
His fingers flexed, dragging over my flesh, shadows and gleaming skin.
“I see a beautiful woman at the height of her power. I see a lass who brought me to my knees from first sight and who I couldn’t stop thinking of on any day after. I see strength and resilience, and someone so pretty, my mind stumbles when I’m near her.”
My eyes sank closed. I loved those words.
Tyler continued. “How did ye feel before?”
“When I looked at you, I felt good.”
“What did ye need from me?”
It had been more than just putting on a show. I’d wanted his attention, and I had it. Now I needed, “More.”
That delicious touch travelled lower, his thumb sliding over my belly button, the action somehow so erotic I felt it between my legs. His other hand cupped my shoulder then drew down my arm, his knuckles grazing my breast.
He kissed that same shoulder. “Be specific. I need your words.”
Everything had twisted. I’d wanted to test whether I could turn a guy on without touching him. No, not any random person. Tyler. It was his reaction I’d thought about when picturing being a cam girl.
“I need you to touch me.”
He smiled against my skin. “I am.”
I released a pained, breathy laugh. “Don’t torment me.”
“I could never.” Tyler adjusted his position behind me. “Put your weight on me.”
I draped back, half lying on him, my body his to play with.
“Keep watching,” he demanded.
I hadn’t realised my eyes had closed, and I focused on the image of us in the mirror. His thick arms bracketing my body. His much bigger form behind mine. But it was the look on his face that almost tipped me over the edge.
“Spread your knees,” he said.
I widened the gap until my legs were around his.
“Listen to me.” The fingers on my belly ghosted lower to the line of my underwear. Dipped inside.
He touched my clit. I moaned, so desperate for whatever he’d do next.
But Tyler’s words dried up. He made a slow circle over that tight bundle of nerves and then slid down again to where I was wet for him. Soaked from the moment we’d started this thing. His knuckles formed lewd outlines in my pink underwear.
I shivered, and it rippled through him, too, as if we were connected.
The startling realisation hit me that I wanted him inside me. It wasn’t just that I needed to come. I wanted that closeness. For him to lose his mind. At the same point, it scared me.
His careful words brought me back into myself. “Watch my face, Dixie.”
In the glass, I connected my gaze to his, able to breathe again. Tyler moved his fingers, dragging the wetness up to work my clit in easy circles.
“Ye feel so good. You’re so perfect.”
His words kept up with his movements, and I sank into the feeling. How hard he was behind me. How safe I felt in his arms. He built me up, skilfully and gradually, winding me to a point where I thought I might crash out.
“Ye like this?” he asked.
“Tyler, please.”
His reply came as a whisper. “I’ve got ye.”
He did, and I loved that. He’d taken ownership of me, and it had been all I’d needed. Until this. This was so much more.
I rocked my hips, chasing the heat he generated inside me. I was so close. “I just need…”
“I know, baby.”
Tyler put his head down next to mine then launched me with two more strokes of his fingers.
I moaned out, pleasure my new bestie. Sensation drowned me, a flood of rain on a desert.
The first time I’d come in forever. I draped onto him, my hand coming to rest on top of his, keeping him between my legs.
Emotion rushed just as fast.
Along with my cry of happiness, actual tears lined my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. My breathing turned choppy, and I couldn’t hide a sob. Embarrassed, I twisted in Tyler’s arms, burying my face in his chest.
He swore and brushed back my hair. “Sweetheart, are you crying? Fuck.”
It only made me worse.
Tyler boosted us back against the pillows, holding me close to him as I wept, shaking, and curled into his hold. My tears wouldn’t stop, but I managed words to still his worry.
“I’m s-sorry,” I blubbed.
“Did I hurt ye?”
“No. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
He held me, stroking my back, my hair, and wiped away my tears. Whispering that he was there for me. That I was perfect.
I wasn’t. Hot mess came to mind as a better description. But couldn’t a girl break down every now and again? Maybe if it were for months straight, I’d need my head read.
Eventually, I calmed and tried to work out what I could say to excuse being so weird. A buzz pierced the air. Tyler’s phone.
He heaved a sigh, but our time was up. Those thirty minutes had passed so quickly, and in a way, I was relieved.
He tugged the blanket over me and dressed, then sat back on the bed. “I’m sorry I have to go.”
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t want to leave ye.”
I didn’t want him to either. Which was strange because every time I’d ever had sex, it ended with the guy walking away.
“Say the words.”
I knew without asking what he meant. It nearly made me cry again. “Bye, don’t die.”
Tyler leaned in and kissed my forehead, lingering in that warm press of his lips.
It was long after I’d stopped trembling that I realised something. Tyler had been shaking, too. And not once during our whole encounter had he touched himself.