Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Kendall
I’ve been torn about whether to let Dane get too deeply into my life.
But it appears he's already here, deeper than I’ve ever let anyone else.
What a disaster this has turned into. I never thought I’d see Jake again, and here I am shaking like a leaf.
The trauma of his mind games comes tumbling back.
Tucked in the bottom of my closet, I have a box of all the letters he left me after we broke up. It also has pages and pages of threatening text messages and pictures of him following me everywhere. I keep it as evidence supporting my stance and restraining order.
I’m still wondering why now? And then I realize that there was an article in the newspaper with my picture showcasing the grand opening. I bet he saw it and decided to try to claw his way back into my life.
I intertwine my fingers with Dane and bring him down the hall to my bedroom closet.
The door is already open, so I walk him in with me.
Stooping, I grab the box from the floor, open it up, and hand it to him.
He’s an attorney; maybe there’s something more I can do.
Right now, I’m out of ideas, and I don’t know what to do.
With his eyebrows furrowed, he says, “This Jake guy is a real piece of work. Start from the beginning; give me the rundown.”
I hesitate for a split second, and then it all comes pouring out.
I tell him about Jake and how we were just a normal couple.
Then, a couple of months into the relationship, he became extremely irritated with everything, especially when I was late or when men would come into the salon and talk to me.
Then I tell him about that night, when he was parked outside the salon, and how it all came to a head.
He lied about where he worked and where he went, but I needed to give him a play-by-play of all my locations and where I would be if I wasn't working. Then he started telling me I couldn’t hang out with my friends.
I stop abruptly, take in a deep breath, and say, “I don’t know why I stayed with him for so long. For over a year. I dealt with the harassment, the manipulation; he kept secrets from me until it all came to a head one night.” Looking away, embarrassed that I had stayed far too long.
Dane sighs and brings my face to look at him. “You’re doing the right thing. He is a danger to you and who knows who else.”
I know he is right, but it’s hard to share one of my biggest failures so openly. He believes me, and that’s all I need to continue. “It was an all-out fight that ended with me running out of the house, no shoes, no phone, and going to my neighbor's house.”
Chills run through me at the thought of him watching my every move. I can’t get his face out of my mind. How angry he was. With nothing but the clothes on my back, I ran—fast.
“I was thankful the neighbor was home, and they let me in. I called the police, told them what happened, and then I got a restraining order. I was always looking over my shoulders, but day after day, he wasn’t there.
Maybe a false sense of security. It became easier as the months went on, and he didn’t show up. ”
He brushes his hand through my hair. Instinctively, my eyes close, and the feeling of his touch consumes me.
Leaning in, he crashes his lips against mine, electricity bouncing between us.
I hold on to him tightly, and he cups the back of my head.
When he slides his tongue over my lips, the warmth spreads throughout my body. He feels safe.
When my doorbell rings, I jump; it scares the shit out of me. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
Holding my ass, he brings me close to him. I can feel his erection. With my hand over his heart, his heart is beating with mine.
He kisses me on the cheek and says, “I am. I’ll get it.”
I stare at him, puzzled by his response, but follow him to the front door.
All I can do is stand there and watch him open my front door.
Not a bad view—his long strides and those pants that hug his ass and thighs.
As my eyes make their way up his body, I see the muscles in his arms flex as he walks.
He opens the door, and my jaw drops to the floor. The massage therapists from the spa are carrying their tables into the house.
Is he surprising me with a couple's massage? I didn’t think we were there, but what a thoughtful thing to do.
I walk over to him and playfully slap his arm. “Dane…what’s all this?”
Turning to look at me, he says, “I’ve watched you work your ass off these last few weeks. You pamper other people, and now it’s time for you to be pampered. I’m just here as a bonus companion.” He winks at me and puts his forehead to mine. We both close our eyes.
Jake never treated me like this. Actually, I can’t think of any man who has treated me as well as Dane has and in such a short period of time.
I show them the large family room where they can set up the two massage tables. While they do that, I grab a couple of waters and hand one to Dane. “Drink up, need to stay hydrated…for what's to come later.” He winks at me again.
I giggle. I think about grabbing my robe, but he’s already seen the goods, and I feel comfortable with him.
So I opt to undress, and he does too, eyeing each other as articles of clothing fall to the floor.
He could just show off his arms to me, and I’d be soaked.
Yes, I’m an arm girl. We both get under the sheets and are ready for our massages. I haven’t had one in months.
They play relaxing music and dim the lights. The smell of lavender oil envelops me. This massage is exactly what I need. The more she rubs out the knots, the further my body sinks into the table.
I can’t believe he arranged for a ninety-minute massage.
I am so thankful, but I don't want to move when it’s over because my body is limp.
I finally sit up and throw my legs off the table.
The lavender scent fades as I take a deep breath.
I slide off the table and walk over, grab my water, and chug it down.
Dane is slowly getting off the massage table. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I did! I’m like Gumby.” I move my hands in the air.
A laugh escapes him. “That’s one way to put it. I’m feeling pretty chill, too. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving. But…I don’t want to leave the house, not after that.” I point to the ladies packing up the massage tables.
“We don’t have to,” he says, and on cue, the doorbell rings again.
“Seriously, I have never had so many people ring my doorbell,” I say, eyeing him suspiciously. It has to be him.
“Well, it’s your lucky day then.” He pulls his pants up and buttons them.
As he walks to the door, wearing only his pants, his bare feet pad softly along the hardwood floors. The no-shirt look gives me a marvelous view of his back, and I could get used to him walking around my house without a shirt on all the time.
Until he glances over his shoulder and says, “Do you need a towel for all that drool?”
I mutter, “Jerk.”
“I heard that.”
“I bet you did.”
When he opens the door, I see a delivery guy hand Dane a couple of bags as the massage therapists squeeze past.
He shuts the door with his foot, turns, and walks back toward me. As he passes, I can smell delicious food, but can’t exactly pinpoint it. It smells familiar.
He unpacks the bags of food, and I see the takeout containers. It's Thai food. How did he know that was one of my favorites?
With a smirk on my face, I reach over and glide my hand along his arm.
I trace his muscles up and land on his chest as I take a step forward.
He moves his hand down my back and over my ass, squeezing it and tugging me to him.
Tonight has been surprisingly enjoyable and relaxing.
I guess I didn’t know what to expect from his intrusive and protective, yet crazy, self.
I’m ready to eat some food, but if he keeps his hands on me, I’m not sure if we will eat at all tonight.
As if reading my mind, he asks, “Want to eat at the table so I can have you for dessert?”
It’s hot when he talks to me like that. I fantasize about him shoving me against the wall and ripping off all my clothes.
Interrupting my dirty thoughts, he says, “Kendall? You okay? Looks like your cheeks are getting a little flushed.”
I stumble over my words. “Ah…n-o.”
I want to slap that smirk right off his face, but instead, I pat his cheek. I run my nails through his beard. He stares at me with those gorgeous caramel eyes that make my knees weak.
He leans forward, with our noses touching, and says, “You’re mine.”
If I weren’t already soaking wet, I sure as hell am now. “Am I?” I say with a snarky, teasing tone.
He strokes my cheek and lightly drags them down my neck.
Goosebumps appear all over my body, my nipples tighten, and heat rushes to my core.
He moves his fingers down the side of my body, tracing the outline of my figure.
He lingers for a moment on my hips, and then squeezes my hip right before he pushes my shirt up.
It’s just enough for him to slide his massive hand over my stomach and down my pants.
I’m so thankful I changed into more comfortable pants that have room for him. It’s like he is in slow motion as he dips his fingers into my slit.
He growls. “Yes, you’re mine. Feeling you dripping all over my fingers, sweetheart, I’m not sure we’ll be eating dinner.”
Moving his two fingers inside of me, I can’t hold it in. I whimper. That’s all it takes, and his mouth is on mine. The heat of his mouth, his tongue, the feel of his fingers, the electricity coursing through my body. My hand rubs his erection through his pants. I can’t help but tug at his belt.
“Take them off,” I mutter.
The loss of his touch leads me to press my hips toward him. He takes his thumb and slides it across my bottom lip. Tipping my head back, he strokes my neck and then kisses me right below my ear.
Shit! This guy has me gushing all over him.
“You liked that, sweetheart?”
Such a cocky bastard. I whisper, “Yes.”
I’m in this Dane fog. The minute he is in my presence, he’s all I think about. When he’s touching me, it’s like I have no sense of anything else, just him.
“We’ll pick this up after we eat.”
I watch him adjust himself, and I lick my lips. I need to have him in my mouth, to taste him, to smell him…
“You need to eat.” He breaks away from our moment and pulls out the rest of the food. Turning back, he finds the dishes and brings them to the table.
“Alright.” I look at him and say, “I’ll grab the silverware.”
We move around the kitchen as if we can predict the other's movements. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. I’m still dumbfounded. How did he know I liked Thai? Then it hits me, Jane. But when would he have asked her? Too many questions. I should just ask him.
“How did you know I liked Thai food?”
“Well, sweetheart, I pay attention and ask questions to the right people,” he says with a fork full of noodles heading for his mouth. The thought of what he can do with that mouth has me melting all over again.