34. Dallas
DALLAS
Iwas still shaking when we got back to Redford Ranch.
The boys had fallen asleep on me in the back seat. They were filthy, hungry, and still wearing the clothes they’d had on when I dropped them off at Matt’s two days ago.
Duke stopped to get them some car seats for his truck, thankfully, so the long car ride would be safer for them.
When we went through a drive-through for tacos, they gobbled them up like they hadn’t eaten in days.
I’m barely holding myself together when I get them out of the bathtub. Duke comes into the bathroom and sets down some fresh clothes for them that he got from the bunkhouse. He takes one look at my face and frowns.
“Why don’t I put a movie on for the boys and sit with them while you shower?”
I nearly collapse in a heap of gratitude before feeling myself nod.
I finish helping the twins get dressed and brush their teeth before taking them into the living area.
Duke is on the sofa, scrolling through the movies on the huge TV screen.
He has a bowl of popcorn and two apple juice boxes on the coffee table.
I wonder where he got them. I know I didn’t have any left at the bunkhouse.
He has two comfy blankets on either side of him.
“Have you boys seen Spirit?”
Dawson and Dutton nod vigorously. They each hop up onto the couch on either side of him, clearly drawn in by the scent of the buttery popcorn.
“Mommy, sit.” Dutton pats the space next to him.
I give him my best happy smile. “I will, baby. Mommy needs to take a quick shower first, okay?”
I half expect him to start crying and beg me to stay, but he simply pops a piece of popcorn into his mouth. The boys are surprisingly comfortable around Duke. He’s the fun, roping cowboy to them.
I turn away and go into Duke’s bathroom, finally letting the tears fall. I collapse onto the bathroom floor, sobs wrecking my body. I don’t know how much time passes before strong arms lift me up and place me inside the walk-in shower. I gasp when the cool water hits me, but it quickly turns warm.
My sobs turn to hiccups before I turn my face up to study Duke’s. His brows are pinched together with worry and fear. He brushes my hair back from my face.
“I’m going to help you shower off, okay? Then you’re gonna come watch a movie with us and have a nice glass of wine.”
I search his eyes, desperate to know what he’s thinking. Is he just waiting for a way to get out of this mess?
“Why are you helping us? You don’t have to do this.”
He reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it off over my head. I’m not wearing a bra, so my shorts go next. He grabs the showerhead and uses it to wet my hair. He’s still wearing his jeans, but he must’ve taken his shirt off before getting in.
“I’m not sure why this is so hard for you to understand, darlin’, but I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be my girlfriend anymore if the information you’ve learned about me is too much for you, but I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this shit on your own.”
“He’s dangerous, Duke. He’s capable of horrible things. I—”
“And you’re worth fighting for, even dying for. And your boys are too.”
Hot tears are streaming down my face, mixing with the water from the shower. He starts washing my hair for me, followed by my body. His touch is not sensual, but it’s deliberate as he cleans me and rinses me off. When he brushes over my nipples, I shudder with pleasure.
I can’t help the way I press my ass into his front. He slows his movements, giving me a chance to keep going. I turn around to face him before dropping to my knees. His eyes widen.
I pull down the zipper of his jeans.
“Dallas, you don’t need to—”
“Shh. Don’t talk unless you’re telling me how pretty I look.”
I unbutton the wet denim and pull them down. He’s not wearing any underwear, so his cock immediately springs free. He’s already hard, the soft tip seeping with pre-cum. I rub my thumb over it, and he groans.
“Fuck, darlin’, you look so fucking pretty.” His abs flex as he leans back against the tiles.
I press my lips to the tip, kissing him gently. His hips buck the second I make contact. His gaze is locked onto mine, his mouth forming an O as I let my tongue brush over the sensitive head of his dick.
“I’m going to marry you, just so you know.”
My eyes widen, but I can’t stop and address that unhinged comment right now.
Instead, I suck him into my mouth. My hand moves up to wrap around the base because I can’t fit the whole thing in without gagging.
His hand grips the roots of my hair—hard, but not painful.
He gives me the freedom to move, and I slowly slide my lips up and down the velvety skin of his cock.
He lets out a whimper, gripping my hair tighter.
“You’re killing me with those lips.”
I take it as a compliment and increase my speed.
My tongue brushes over the underside of him, where I know he’s the most sensitive, sucking harder when I go up and releasing pressure when I move down.
I try to open my throat up, but it’s not enough.
I gag, having to push him out for a few seconds before recovering and sucking him back in.
He says something under his breath that I can’t make out. I twist my hand over him, rotating my lips the other direction and humming. He seems to like it because he’s panting and pulling my hair harder.
Tears form in my eyes, and I look up to see that his are closed, his head tipped back to the ceiling. He’s so beautiful when he’s being pleasured. I love that I’m doing this to him, making him feel this way. I suck him harder until he’s panting my name.
“Dallas, Dallas, fuck …”
His warm cum fills my mouth seconds later.
His dick pulses with each gush of salty semen, and I feel it running down the back of my throat.
He groans, slowly pulling out of my mouth.
I swallow it all, holding his eye contact the entire time.
He licks his lips, staring at me like I’m his whole world. He reaches down, pulling me to my feet.
He presses a gentle kiss to my nose. “Where did that come from?”
“I just wanted to thank you for all that you—”
He blanches, blinking down at me. “What?”
“I—that was just a thank-you for helping me save them from—”
He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his face. “Fuck,” he breathes.
He reaches out to take my hands, his eyes steady as he focuses on my face.
“I need you to promise me that you will never ever use sex in a transactional way with me. Sex is not currency. Sex is me pleasing you and you pleasing me because we both enjoy it and we’re having fun or because we’re in love and we want to express it physically.
I didn’t save the boys because I wanted to fuck you, and I don’t want you to ever thank me for anything in that way ever again. ”
I don’t even realize there are tears streaming down my face until he wipes them away with his thumbs. I feel myself nodding, guilt and shame washing over me.
“I’m sorry. I—I don’t know how else to repay you.”
He shakes his head. “Please, please just know your body is worth so much more than that to me. All you have to do is say the words thank you. That’s enough.”
He crushes me into his chest for a hug. I can’t even voice what I’m feeling right now, but this is the first time I’ve realized that I used sex as currency in my marriage.
I had no choice. It was the only thing that worked to keep my ex from hurting me. Sex was all he wanted when he was angry, when he was happy, when I’d disappointed him. Sex was the only way we ever worked through a problem or an argument.
I didn’t even fully realize that was what I was doing when I dropped to my knees and reached for his zipper. I just knew I wanted to thank him, and this seemed like the best way to do that.
Finally, he pulls back and looks down at me with so much love and understanding that I can barely stand to keep facing him.
“Let’s get out and go check on the boys.”
The rest of the day passes with snuggles on the couch, Duke ordering us pizza, and a ’90s DreamWorks movie marathon.
At sunset, we go sit outside on the porch while the boys play in the yard. Duke pours me a glass of my favorite red wine. I haven’t asked him about what he plans to do about my ex, but I know he’s thinking about it every time I catch his face growing pensive.
The boys find a worm in the dirt and beg him to save it so they can go fishing. He finds a Tupperware to keep it in and scoops some dirt up to go with it. I’m not sure how successful a fishing trip will be with one worm, but I can’t help but smile at how attentive and sweet he is with them.
His kitchen has clearly been stocked with kid snacks and drinks, as well as my favorite wine, popcorn, and kettle-cooked barbecue chips that I had no idea he knew were my favorite.
At eight o’clock, he helps me put the boys to bed. After turning out their light, we go into his room together.
I change into another one of his cutoff tees and brush my teeth before climbing into his big bed, sighing contentedly. He slides in next to me, pulling my back up close to his chest.
“Good night,” he whispers.
“Duke.”
“Yes?”
“What are we going to do about him?”
He’s silent for a few moments, so I keep talking.
“I don’t think he’s going to go away. He’s too obsessive. This was … it was a huge blow to his ego. He’ll be back.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“He’s not the type to let something like this go.
All he cares about is being right and respect.
He thinks I owe him respect over everything.
And if I disrespect him, he cares more about that than anything else.
” I shudder when I think about what it was like to constantly feel like I had to walk on eggshells in my own home.
It was miserable, like living with a monster who was going to criticize me at every turn and blow up as soon as I made one wrong move.
But the goalpost was always moving. His expectations were unpredictable, so I never knew if I was accidentally pissing him off.
Duke hugs me tighter. “I don’t want you to worry about what he’s going to do or not do anymore. You have me now. You’re not going through this alone.”
I choke back the tears that are threatening to wet my pillow. The room is dark, but I can feel him all over me, rubbing my arm soothingly.
“You don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s a monster.
He’ll use the boys to hurt me again. And he’ll never fully lose custody.
My uncle abused his wife, tried to kill her, and kidnapped his daughter, and he only got one year in prison before the court granted him weekend visits again. It was an endless nightmare.”
I squeeze his hand harder, trying to keep the panic at bay.
I’ve spiraled about the possibilities so many times, but after what happened today, I’m dangerously close to a mental breakdown.
I’m in so much pain, my entire body cramping with the anxiety and fear.
My throat is sore from where Matt choked me with his forearm.
“He tried to take them once. There’s no telling what he’ll do next,” I half whisper, half sob.
Duke pulls me even closer, pressing his lips up to my ear.
“He’ll never hurt them or you ever again. Try to get some sleep, okay?”
My mind travels back to our conversation in the car, the confession Duke made to me about him and his brothers.
Holy shit.
My boyfriend is going to kill my ex-husband.