Chapter 38
Vincent da Silva
I entered Dash’s house with a stride of arrogance, having never felt so goddamn empowered in all my life.
For the very first time, I cared about a man and he was, so far, willing to admit he cared about me, as well.
Did he love me? That I wasn’t so sure of, but I was perfectly happy with what he was willing to offer.
It was more than I’d ever been given before.
A grin plastered on my face, I cut through the dining room to the kitchen with the stack of flattened boxes I’d just purchased from Lowe’s.
Dash was standing at the butcher block in the center of the room, earbuds in, bobbing to the music.
His hair a little longer than usual, he was wearing a pair of sweats and nothing else, leaving his torso and all the wounds visible.
Not nearly as decorated with ink as I was, the scars stood out, garishly, a constant reminder how goddamn close things had gotten in Georgia.
All the injuries were doing well, however.
I had never seen someone heal as quickly as this man.
He still hurt, hell, we both did, but it was not slowing him down.
He wanted out of this house. Only two hours had passed since he uttered the words of moving in with me and he was already packing, ready to go.
Frowning, I looked around with a sense of eeriness.
He and Piera weren’t the only ones who had seen Mary’s ghost around here.
I’d had the unfortunate grace of witnessing her waltzing around the property a couple times, as well.
It wasn’t just that her ghost was haunting this place, it was the way she looked; all wet and oozy with flesh missing, sticks and seaweed in her hair and clothes, her eyes a milky white over her once dark brown irises.
And she never missed an opportunity to show off her stubby wrists. It was creepy as fuck.
Leaning the boxes against the opening between the kitchen and dining room, I approached him and slid my palm across his back. He choked on a snort and jumped, then hissed, folding his arm over his torso.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t even thinking.”
He smiled and removed the buds, tucking them in the pocket of his sweats. “You get the boxes?”
“Got about seventy-five. That should do it.”
He chortled and rolled his eyes. “You ain’t seen them toys lately.”
I grinned and rested my hip against the block, crossing my arms. “I know. I’m responsible for a good chunk of them toys up there.”
His smile softening, his sight roamed all over my face. Turning his profile to me, he picked up one of the plates, wrapped it in a towel, and placed it in the box he’d already been packing. “You always did spoil her like she was your own.”
A shoulder rolled nonchalantly. “Well, I look at her as my own.”
His brows lifted and he gulped, loudly. “So, uh, ahem. Hav-Have you…always…had a thing for me?”
The question took me by surprise, freezing my blood flow instantly.
I coughed and thumbed my nose. “I dunno. I’ve actually asked myself that a couple times since Georgia.
When you got busted for jacking that car, I damn near went mad with panic at just the thought of you getting locked up.
It was a no brainer to take your place. Ain’t no way in hell I coulda lived with myself if you was in that cell. ”
He paused to stare at me ruefully, his brows lifted.
Another example occurring to me, I said, “The guy in jail?” I cast a sideways glimpse his way. “Looked and acted just like you and he turned me on so damn much.”
His eyelids rounded just a moment before he masked his thoughts. Clearing his throat, he began wrapping another plate. “And he’s the only one you messed around with, other than me and Billy.”
“Mm hm.”
“Why…ahem…me?”
My blood was heating up, thawing the shocking ice. Excitement quickening my pulse, I flashed a half-smile and tilted my head. “You’re strong. Loyal. Smart. Formidable.”
He was breathing faster, his complexion darkening, his profile still to me. No longer packing, he was just standing there, gripping the plate partially wrapped in a dish cloth.
I scooted closer, my tone husky. “You’re fierce. You’re a fighter. You’re a man of action, not words.”
His lashes lowered, his chin dipping so a lock of hair fell over his brow.
Gently nudging his side to make him face me, I muttered quietly, “And you gotta be one of the sexiest motherfuckers I ever seen.”
A sudden breath pulled through his nostrils and hitched the back of his throat, causing his Adam’s apple to lurch. “You think I’m sexy?”
“Oh, hell yeah, baby. You are fucking gorgeous.” Not even looking, I knew by the gloss in his irises, he was hard, so I cupped the bulge with a firm squeeze.
His chest puffed out with a shallow inhale, his nostrils flared.
“And your cock is fucking perfection. It fits my ass like it was made just for me, and you taste so goddamn good, baby.”
His brows lifted and he groaned, the dish clattering to the butcher block. “Fuck, Vinny.”
Smirking, my head tilted. “Mm, now that’s a pretty good idea. I think you should definitely fuck Vinny.”
He groaned a second time as I swept forward and claimed a heated kiss while continuing to rub his dick. Out of nowhere, he was frantic, grasping at my jeans, yanking and tugging in desperation to unfasten them. I grabbed his wrists, however, and pushed them aside.
Breaking away, panting, he frowned. “What?”
Grinning, I nipped his bottom lip. “Like I said, delicious. I wanna taste you before you fuck me.”
His expression fell and he swallowed hard. “Fuck, yeah. Oh, shit, Vinny.”
Smirking again, I started to squat while tugging down his sweats.
Gently scattering kisses here and there, I would add a flick of my tongue or playful bite as I traveled lower.
At his navel, I paused to swirl my tongue.
Completely unexpectedly, he hauled off and socked the side of my head and stumbled away, laughing.
“Ow, what the fuck, Dash?” I blasted, bounding to my feet and holding my ear.
He gawked, his eyes bulging. “Oh, shit, babe. Are you okay? I’m sorry. That tickled, it was just a reaction.”
Doing a doubletake, I stared at him in disbelief. “That tickled?”
“I mean?” His shoulders curled to his ears, his hands splaying out. “I guess?”
“You’re ticklish?”
“I dunno? I mean, apparently there, I am. Dunno, no one’s ever done some of the things you do. That was new to me.”
That one statement made me fall more in love with him. He may have had a lot more lovers than me, but in some manners, he was just as starved for true affection as I was.
Though my ear was still tingling and ringing, I cocked a brow and slowly approached. Every step forward I made, he retreated one, his eyelids wide. “So, you dunno if you’re ticklish?”
“Vinny, man, now wait up. Hang on.” His palms were pumping in the air, his chest heaving. “I’m still busted up here. Don’t do nothing—”
Lunging forward, I pinned him against the refrigerator, my shoulder pressing against the center of his chest. Widening my stance, I wiggled my fingers across his sides, near his ribs, and he burst out laughing, trying to wiggle away.
“Oh, shit, oh, my god, stop. Oh, my god, stop, Vinny. Shit, stop!” he rumbled, playfully swatting at me.
“Looks like you’re ticklish, Dash.”
“Oh, shit, oh, shit. Stop. Stop, please,” he continued to laugh, writhing around.
“You gotta ask nicer than that.”
“Ah, shit!” he chortled, twisting the other way and curling into himself.
My chest meshed with his back, my arms wrapped around him to tickle his stomach while being mindful of the injuries. Throwing his head back, his laughter bounced off the ceiling, his cheek against mine, tears streaking his skin.
“Oh, my god, I gotta pee. Stop, stop, stop.”
“Ahem.”
We both instantly froze, our hearts plummeting in unison. His skin turning clammy, he was on the brink of hyperventilating as we craned our necks to peer toward the living room.
Janelle was standing between the end of the counter and the laundry room, her weight to one leg, hands propped on her hips. A brow lifted, her expression was scathing disapproval, her lips taut. My focus lowered to Piera standing beside her, confused, a full-blown pout pulling her bottom lip low.
“Oh, shit,” I croaked.
We both abruptly broke away, hissing that it caused tinges of pain for our wounds. Pulling at his nape, he was clearing his throat repeatedly, his attention bouncing back and forth between them. “Uh, h-hey. Wh-What are you…d-doing here?”
“Half-day at school.”
He coughed and straightened his stance, inching further away from me. “That was today?”
“First Friday of every month,” she snipped, crossing her arms, a foot tapping the floor.
He flashed a fake smile and held his arms out, still anxious. “Hey, acorn. H-How are you?”
Piera let him pick her up and prop him on his side, but she was still frowning, her lashes thinning. “Fine.”
He jutted his chin at Janelle but didn’t make eye contact. “Uh, thanks. Um, I…I’ll be taking her in the morning, though, okay?”
“What’s going on here, Dash?”
“Nothing,” he barked back, anger contorting his features. “Mind your fucking business.”
A sneer shot my way, her cheeks red. Opening her mouth to say something, I bristled and crossed my arms, as well. “Remember who the fuck I am before you say whatever you’re about to say.”
Her jaw clamped, she spun on her heels, and stamped out of the house, slamming the door.
Dash tugged at the front of her shirt, faking another smile. “How was school today?”
She cast me a wayward glare, her lips all but disappearing. Cringing, I bowed my chin and coughed, feeling about two inches tall under her stern glare. Wow, I did not like that little girl angry with me. Holy, shit, the power she was going to have over my emotions as she grew older. I was screwed.
“Fine.”
“What’s wrong, acorn? Why are you so mad?”
“You were having a tickle fight without me.”
My attention snapped to hers, my heart thumping hard and then pausing. Wait…she wasn’t upset to see me and her dad like that? She was just feeling left out?
“What?”
That lip puckered even further, her nose wrinkling under the weight of her scowl. “You were tickle fighting without me,” she snapped again, leaning away to cross her arms.
A grin spreading ear to ear, relief flooded my system. Standing upright, I slowly approached, wiggling my fingers. “You wanna be tickled, too, acorn? Huh? I’ll getcha!”
She flung herself to the side and squealed with a high-pitched cackle when I gently attacked her sides.
Rolling all around his arms, his palm spread across her back to hold her balance.
Relentless, I found all the sensitive spots on her sides, belly, and armpits while she laughed so hard, she cried.
“Hey, hey,” Dash chuckled, kneeling to set her on the floor. “Careful now. I can’t hold you while you’re doing that. Daddy’s still hurt. Ah, shit, ow.”
As soon as her little feet hit the floor, she took off, her infectious giggle ringing in the air.
I chased, and then Dash followed suit, though not as quickly.
The three of us, laughing hysterically, were running all over the house, taking turns tickling one another.
No pain, no wounds, no ghosts, just the three of us having a goddamn good time.
It was well earned and so damn rejuvenating.