Chapter 19 Dallas #2
The only light filling the space is the plug-in motion sensor I put in for Ellie. It’s just enough to catch Willow’s brown eyes as they dip to my bare chest.
“Doesn’t count,” I say, voice lower than I mean it to be.
Her eyes dart back to mine quickly, like they’d just betrayed her. She releases a shaky breath in an attempt to say something that catches in her throat. As she composes herself, she squares her shoulders, a smirk playing on her lips. “I say it does.”
My head tips to the side, gaze sharpening.
“You don’t play fair, Willow.” There isn’t a playful bone in my body as I step toward her, slow enough so she could walk away.
But she doesn’t. Instead, her wide eyes follow me as I advance, rising with each step.
“Fine. I broke a rule. What are you gonna do about it?”
My challenge comes out of left field. Like I’ve caught the ball from a team player I don’t particularly like.
Chin tilting up, she challenges, “If you’re implying I break rule number one so we’re even, you’ve got another thing coming.” She perks a brow. “I’ve got self-control, Daddy.”
The organ between my legs throbs at the nickname.
I didn’t even know I had a kink for it.
My voice is like gravel. Because I’m damn sure I’m about to break another rule. “Do you now? ’Cause I’ve got something in my pocket that says you don’t.” I’m too close. The soft scent of rain and crushed petals hits me. But it’s not enough to cover the arousal that still lingers from her panties.
She frowns. “Is that a—”
I slide them from my pocket and lift them for her to see. Black lace dangles from the hook of my index finger.
Eyes wide and lips parted, she flushes. Then blinks slowly like she’s coming down from temporary shock.
“You sleep naked, Sunset?”
With a swallow, her eyes flick to mine—heat simmering behind them, but she doesn’t speak. Almost as if she’s calculating her words—or how I might react to them. “I did that night,” she breathes.
I clench the back of my teeth. Biting back a curse. Then stuff them back in my pocket, like I own them now.
Her gaze dips to where they disappeared.
I close the small gap between us and place my hands on her hips, backing her against the landing rail.
Her chin lifts but her body is still. Not an ounce of tremor.
No panic or protest. Not even a surrender.
Just a flicker of something deeper. Not quite an invitation to whatever the hell I think I’m about to do.
But trust. She trusts me.
Pulling my hands off her, I wrap my fingers tightly around the baluster, like I’m afraid to lose what she’s giving me.
Her head drops back without a sound. Just a soft breath.
It’s painfully pretty—the way she breathes me in. The way she watches me.
I need to stop. Need to step back. Instead, I grip tighter, like there’s a chance my hands will wander to that bare skin.
Focus.
“Why that night?” I ask, lips dipping to ghost along the smooth line of her jaw.
“Because I was hot.” It comes out in a soft whispery breath. Eyes rolling like she’s ready to beg for me to touch her. I want to ask more. Taunt and tease. Find out exactly how many times she felt hot in my bed. But I’m not playing fair. I should make a confession too.
“You smell sweet.”
She bites the corner of her lip, chest rising with each breath, long hair brushing against my arm.
My eyes drop to the curve of her neck, hungry to taste the flesh there. “Stop me.” I exhale, meeting her gaze. I’m not sure if it’s a challenge or an order, or if I’m talking to myself. Because the warning lights in my mind are flickering out—reaching the end of their battery life.
Every boundary we’ve set be damned.
I don’t remember what they are, and in this moment—I don’t care.
“Dallas . . .” She swallows so hard I hear it.
“You have my underwear in your pocket. Your hands on me that night is why they came off in the first place. And judging by the wood poking my hip right now, I don’t think either one of us cares to stop you. ”
I bite back a chuckle. Realizing I like this version of Willow too. Daring, sexy . . . honest.
I smirk. “Always with the words . . .” I sweep my thumb along her chin, back and forth like I’m testing the waters of a brand-new island. “A simple I don’t want to would’ve sufficed.”
She exhales like she needs more and I break, sliding both hands beneath her jaw, fingers curling around the sides of her neck.
Willow’s eyes flutter closed before I kiss her lips, slow and firm, her back arching for me. The way I imagine kissing her on our wedding day. In front of witnesses.
A kiss that would fool just about everyone watching.
Willow melts into me with a moan, hands sliding around my back as she deepens the kiss like a woman who likes taking control. Or a woman who’s just as desperate to taste me as I am her.
Our tongues tangle together. Mouths moving in a dance we’ve never practiced before, but know by heart.
Another sexy noise slips from her and it sets me ablaze. My hand slips down to her ass, cupping the bare skin beneath her cotton shorts.
Her body reacts. Her throat vibrates with need.
She’s so sexy it hurts.
She’s . . . perfect.
All too suddenly, a lump forms in my throat—in my gut. It’s distractingly loud and . . . painful.
It hits me sharp, like a cold wind cutting through our fire.
Willow gasps and pulls back, eyes wide with shock and a flicker of hurt.
I bite back a curse. This time at myself. I run a shaky hand down my face. How do you explain guilt from a ghost I simply can’t put to rest. “I’m sorry, I . . .”
Willow’s eyes dip to the side with a frown. And before I can finish the thought, she covers my mouth. “Shh. Do you hear that?”
I blink. The house is quiet except for some faint shuffling. We both flick our eyes to Ellie’s door. It opens slowly and we jump three feet apart.
Ellie steps out, sleepy, holding her pink bunny. She blinks, finding us in the hall. “I need the bathroom,” she whispers groggily, then pads on into the hallway bathroom.
Willow looks up at me sheepishly. “I’ll see her back to bed.”
I press two fingers to my temple. “No. I’ve got it. You were probably on your way down or . . . something?”
“For my Thermos. I got caught up reading and my tea went cold.”
I nod and switch on the light to illuminate the stairs for her.
“Goodnight.” She glances at my pocket. It’s not until the toilet flushes behind me that I realize I’ve lost focus. And it’s about time I get it back.