Dared to Love (The Billionaire Parker Brothers Book 3)

by Kayla C. Oliver

  The Nicks are on vacation, so seeing anyone back here would be out of place. But there’s no sign of her or anyone else. No one I could even ask questions. Fuck.

  Retracing my steps back out to the road, I pace back and forth, wracking my brain for a clue. He hadn’t said where to meet, just that she’d know the spot. I don’t know him well enough to know his creep haunts. Damn it.

  She had to have gotten on the road. Lifting my hand to shade myself from the sun, I feel panic tightening my chest. Which way did she go? My heart pounds so hard I feel faint. I pace back and forth again, wondering how I managed to lose her.

  And now she’s off to have a face to face meeting with the man who has clearly lost his mind. My sweet, gentle Camille is walking into the arms of a monster. And with the fact that there are witnesses to his previous crimes, he might make sure there isn’t one more to point the finger at him.

  As my heart sinks to my toes, I hear my phone chime. Yanking it out of my pocket, I hope against hope that it holds answers.

  It’s Cliff. Holy fucking Christ, it’s the one person who can help me. Fuck, finally some good news. Did you lose someone?

  Relief. It’s relief I feel flooding my veins. Where did she go? I ask, staring at my phone like it’s some holy relic that can save me.

  The white message bubble pops up almost instantly, like he was ready to text before I even asked. Toward Aspen. Then a right on Dovetail Rd.

  I fucking owe you. I text like my fingers are on fire. And I mean it.

  I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s still around, still watching her like I’d asked. Any sense of guilt I’d had for perhaps wasting his time is washed away.

  Jesus, he might have literally helped me save her life. Thanks just doesn’t cut it. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Armed with this new knowledge, I rush into my garage and get in my car. The seconds waiting for the garage door feel like the longest seconds in my whole life.

  I back out too quickly and put the car in gear. As I drive the direction Cliff told me to go, I wonder what the hell Camille is thinking. She doesn’t actually believe that he’s got her mom, does she?

  In what world would her mother follow a creep like Jackson? I grab my phone to text Cliff.

  Was she home? I knew he had someone checking since my first text back when Jackson was still threatening Camille.

  Cliff is quick to respond. No answer, no BE.

  Well, that’s good. His guy knocked but didn’t break and enter. Still, not answering doesn’t mean she’s with Jackson. She could be in the shower or out getting groceries.

  Fuck. I should have put someone on her earlier. Still, I don’t believe Jackson was able to do so much while being tailed by cops. They’re looking for him, he has to know that. Would he really risk showing his face?

  Questions without answers fill my mind, but I’m focused as I drive toward the crossroads Cliff told me to go to.

  And as I turn, I see her. But, instead of letting her know I’m here, I fall back and let the few cars on the road pass as I park well behind her. Only when she’s turned down the road, do I follow her again, keeping a safe distance. She’s walking with her head down and I know she’s staring at her phone, perhaps texting Jackson.

  Doesn’t she know she’s walking right into a trap?

  Everything in me wants to jump out of the car, grab her and take her home while I hunt down Jackson and castrate him.

  She’d never forgive me if I did, though. So I keep my distance and plan. Once I know where I’m going, I’ll have Cliff sweep the place and I’ll go after Jackson. We’ll take the son of a bitch down.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Camille

  I feel like I’m walking to my death. How dare he mess with my mom? She’d never liked him. She told me he gave her the willies. I’d rolled my eyes, of course, since the phrase she’d used was so terrible.

  Still, back then, I’d had no idea that Jackson could be such an absolute terror.

  I should have listened to her. I should have trusted her when she told me something about him bothered her. She was right. But I’d been so blind, so certain he was fine.

  Sure, he bugged me too. His hipster, cooler than you, over inflated sense of self annoyed me. But it hadn’t made him seem dangerous. He didn’t seem like someone who’d attack. I had actually thought he’d calm down and be fun to hang out with.

  And he had been, in the beginning.

  But over time, he’d become more possessive and more demanding.

  My fateful words from last night fill my mind. It’s hard to believe that only a day has separated all the insanity my life has been through. Everything was turned upside down. Now I’ve got the hots for Dakin.

  Still, I can’t help but smile at what I’d told him. I hope it still stings. Fuck you, Jackson. Fuck you and your stupid haircut. Fuck you and your hipster bullshit. You’re not sensitive, or deep. You’re just a stupid prick who only wants to get laid.

  I cross the railroad tracks, knowing where I’m going. A place he’d brought me once. A place where I’d found myself being kissed by Jackson back when I’d thought he was nice. We’d been sitting side by side on a swing that hung over the river. He’d turned to me and kissed me like I was the only person who existed in his whole world.

  I was so stupid.

  My phone lights up and I try to tell him again that I’m coming alone. I ditched him. I’m coming alone, I swear.

  You better, bitch.

  My eyes sting with tears. I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this. Looking both ways, I cross the road and know I’m getting close. This side of town is where things break down. The roads go from pavement to gravel and finally to dirt. The people out here are different, too.

  Please don’t hurt her, I text him. I’m never going to sleep again. This is going to fuck with my head forever, I’m sure. Even now, my hands are shaking. Adrenaline is pumping through me and I’m certain I’ll pass out if I even so much as take too deep of a breath.

  I’m fired up, exhausted, and terrified, a combustive mixture of emotion that’s fueling me. I wish it had been Dakin. I mean, I’m not an idiot. Virginity is a sham. Sure, I’ve never had a cock inside me, but I’m also not some pure, stupid girl. I doubt Jackson would even know the difference if I’d slept with Dakin last night.

  Bloody hell, my life is such a damn mess.

  I cross the dirt road and take the little-used path through the tall grasses. The hill is a bit steep, but I’m sure on my feet. I can hear the sound of water rushing, of the wind making the leaves overhead flutter, and the scent of water hits me like a runaway train.

  Any other time, this would have been fun. It would have been a good experience. For any other reason it would have been.

  “Jackson?” I call out, keeping my voice quiet. The grasses give way to a little clearing at the edge of the river. The water is moving lazily here and I half expect to see a group of teenagers swimming in the deep pool.

  But this spot is pretty quiet. It’s not a well-known hang out. Not when down the river a ways there’s a huge spot where it all opens up and rocks let girls bake in the sun and the deep water lets people swim.

  “Jackson?” I say a bit louder.

  Suddenly, a hand covers my eyes and another covers my mouth. “Don’t make a sound.” Jackson’s whisper scares me and I comply, going limp in his arms. I don’t want him to think I’m going to fight. I don’t want him to hurt me.

  “I loved you,” he whispers, and I nod, miserable as he speaks. He never loved me. Love isn’t trying to hurt someone. It’s not cruel. It’s not deception. It’s not everything Jackson has shown me over the last few days.

  “If you scream, I’ll kill you,” he whispers. I nod, and he pulls his hand off my mouth slowly, as if ready to clamp back down if I make a sound. When I don’t, he releases my eyes and turns me around.

  I see him look me up and down, and hate that I’m wearing this dress. “Lay down,” he says, and I look around.
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  “Right here?” I whisper, my throat aching as the words pass. He nods and I sit down in the dirt. Looking up at him, I hate him and myself. “Where’s my mom?” I ask, looking around.

  “Shut up,” he growls, unbuttoning his pants as he drops to his knees before me. Suddenly, something black circles his neck and he lets out an odd gurgling sound as he’s hauled back. Behind him, I see Dakin, his arms flexing as he holds a strap around Jackson’s throat.

  “No!” I scream, jumping to my feet.

  Dakin looks at me, his anger shining through as he holds Jackson captive. “Your mother is at home. Call her.”

  I pick up the phone and do as he says. Two rings later and my mother comes on the line. “Camille! How are you?”

  Tears fill my eyes. “I love you mom,” I say, my hatred aimed at Jackson, “I’ll call you back soon, okay?”

  “Is everything alright?” she asks, her voice sounding worried.

  “It is now,” I tell her, before telling her again that I love her and hanging up. To my shock, Jackson laughs.

  “You didn’t even call her?” he asks, his face red as Dakin tightens the strap. “Dumb bitch,” he chokes out.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dakin

  I want to kill him. With the leather straps tight around my knuckles, I know how easy it would be to put my knee in his back and pull hard enough to really cut off his air and blood flow. I could kill him. I should kill him.

  And with the rage in her eyes, I know Camille wouldn’t fault me for it.

  “The cops are on their way,” I say to her, needing her to know I’m not going to kill him.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. As if in response, I hear Zac and Cliff talking as they walk down the path. Two cops, one Zac, and the other a guy I’ve talked to a handful of times step into view with Cliff a step behind.

  Zac takes in the view, and quickly cuffs Jackson. I see them looking over at Camille, then at me. Of course they know. They know that this girl somehow worked under my skin. They know I’m here for her, to help her, to save her. I don’t have to say it, they just know.

  Zac looks over at me as I release Jackson and let him into the officer’s care. I nod, knowing he’s wanting to tell me to bring her in for a statement later. I’ll do it. But they’ve got so much on him right now, they’ve got a pattern of abuse from this asshole. He’s going to get locked away. He has to.

  I take Camille’s hand. She’s clammy, shaking, and I pull her in close. “It’s okay,” I whisper to her, and she looks up at me. Deep in her blue eyes, there’s an apology and absolute trust. As the officers leave with Jackson between them, I catch Cliff’s glance.

  To my surprise, he winks at me before disappearing into the grasses.

  “I’m sorry,” Camille whispers, tears spilling down her ashen cheeks. “I should have trusted you, I should have listened.”

  “You did what you thought was right,” I tell her as we walk toward the road. “I’ll never fault you for that.” How could I? If it was my mother I thought would be harmed, who would I listen to? No one. I’d just do everything I could to make sure she was safe.

  “Can I stay with you?” she whispers, and I nod.

  “For as long as you’d like.” To my surprise, I’ve no qualms making that promise. I know she’s not using this as an in to disrupt my life. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t need it. And I’d never be able to turn her away. She’s a good girl. Perhaps a misguided one with terrible taste in partners, but she’s good at the core. She’s got the best of intentions. She’s willing to accept horrible things to protect the people she loves. How could I not admire her?

  I lead her to the car and open the door for her. She sits in the passenger seat and I hurry around to the driver’s seat. “Are you hungry?” I ask as I pull on my seat belt.

  “Depends,” she says, some bit of mischief coloring her voice, “are you cooking?”

  “I could. Or we could go out.” I see the trembling of her hands and know I need to get her home. “How about we go home and you climb in a bath while I make you something?”

  Her blue eyes are appreciative as she turns to me. “I’d like that,” she says, her hand finding mine. Our fingers link as I drive us back toward my house.

  Then, it clicks.

  How about we go home.

  ***

  I knock and she lets out a relaxed, “Come in!”

  I open the door and find her in the bath, covered by a thick layer of bubbles. I set the tray beside her on the stand I’d brought in just for this purpose. She’s watching me, a curious look in her eyes. “Wash my hair?” she asks once I’ve got everything set up.

  “Sure,” I agree. Rolling up my pant legs, I climb up behind her and dangle my legs beside her shoulders in the tub. Taking a bottle of shampoo, I begin to rub it into her scalp with gentle fingers. These fingers almost murdered the fucker who’d attacked her. But I could never hurt her.

  She lets out little moans of sheer pleasure as I massage the suds into her hair. The sounds are quite like the moans she’d been making when I’d been licking her sweet pussy.

  Fuck.

  I can’t think like that right now. She’s been through so much she doesn’t need to deal with me wanting her right now. Still, the sounds she makes are making me rock hard. I’m a fucking bastard. Which has never been a problem before now, but I want to make her feel safe. I don’t want to be the next guy because I’m not the same kind of evil as Jackson. I’m still a fucking asshole, just not also a rapist.

  She’s safe here. I can control myself. For now.

  “Right there, Dakin,” she says, panting my name in a way that makes me see stars. Maybe I can control myself. Fuck, she’s pushing me.

  Taking her hair in my hands, I lower her to rinse her hair. She floats in my hands, total trust in her as she closes her eyes. With my free hand, I gently scoop water close to her head to rinse the suds away. The long tub allows her to fully float free and I know my hand under her head is the only contact she’s got right now.

  And I thank fucking heaven I got this tub. I’d expected sex in here, but this… this trust from Camille is sexier than any encounter I’ve ever had. As if she’s reading my mind, she opens her eyes and looks up at me.

  “I want you.” The simple words are said with total calm and a warmth I didn’t expect.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Camille

  To my surprise, he bends down and kisses me.

  I’ve already decided that this bullshit with Jackson isn’t going to ruin me. I want Dakin. In every way possible. And I’m going to see what he’s willing to share with me. This is my fucking life and I’m going to live it the way I want to.

  And if that means figuring it out as I go, then I’ll do that.

  With Dakin’s hand cradling my head and his lips on mine, I realize this is perfect. I trust him. While I know he’s capable of awful things, I don’t believe he’d do them to me.

  With his mouth on mine, I realize I’ve never been kissed like this. Not just the upside down thing – which, if I’m being honest, is a whole new experience on its own – but I mean I’ve never been kissed like this.

  He’s both demanding and kind, desperate and subdued. A layered mess of contradictions and hunger that sends my pulse thundering. Parting my lips to allow him full access, I enjoy how his tongue slips into my mouth and seeks out my own.

  Swallowed by hot water and silken bubbles, I’m free floating in an ocean with him as my only purchase, with his lips on mine to remind me I’m not alone. But I am, alone here, with him. We’re two people on a planet of billions but he’s the only one who’s within my senses. We’re the only important ones right now.

  He pulls back and I hear him murmur, “Sweet Camille.”

  But I couldn’t answer if I wanted to.

  Still, I’m not about to let him get away right now. I rise up and turn to face him while on my knees. The air is chilly on my wet skin and I know he can see my naked body f
rom head to belly. But I’m not ashamed. I wrap him in a hug, not caring that I’m getting him wet.

  Pressing my lips to his, I try to convey that he’s perfect with nothing more than a kiss. The tub begins to drain and he pushes me back to throw a towel around me as I pull him back in. Our lips meet again as if we’d suffocate without each other.

  The towel is soft on my skin and I shiver at the slight chill in the air. As if he feels it, he backs off and begins to dry me. I study the intensity behind his eyes as he focuses on my shoulders where he’s patting me with the towel.

  “We’re going to do this right,” he says, his breath on my wet lips. The dark promise in the words sends a shiver through me and I nod, unable to answer him. I’m not totally sure what he means, but I’d follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked.

  I stand up and he continues to dry me as the last of the water drains from the bottom of the tub. He wraps me up in the towel and grabs my ass. As if I weigh nothing, he lifts me and I automatically wrap my legs around him.

  My lips meet his as excitement thrums in my blood. How does he do this to me? It’s like he’s the spark that ignites my very soul. The kiss deepens as his tongue traces my lower lip with a stunning sweetness that brings tears to my eyes.

  But I’m not going to cry. Not with joy, not with sadness.

  We’re moving, guided by his intimate knowledge of his home. When he lowers me onto the bed, I feel myself sinking into perfection as his weight comes down and pins me. Heat settles low in my core as tingling excitement dances over my skin.

  My hips move with him as if the primal part of me knows exactly what to do. I want him to show me, to teach me, to bring every moment we’ve shared thus far to the highest possible point before we plunge into the abyss of pleasure together.

  Fog descends on my senses as I focus in on every point of contact he’s giving me. His hard chest on mine, his hips holding me down, his thighs between my legs, and his hands capturing my wrists and bringing them above my head so I’m totally at his mercy.