by Molly E. Lee
No, for now, we’d do the jobs we signed up to do and enjoy the benefits while we were at it. Then, when the year was up, I’d hire my own lawyer to renegotiate whatever terms my team wanted. And until then, no one needed to know how deep in we were.
My gut twisted with the thought of keeping things from Blake, but I knew no good would come from telling her, so I resolved myself to move forward. “Come on,” I said, gently scooping her up in my arms and cradling her to my chest.
“What are we doing?” She giggled against me.
“I’m going to run you a bath. Then I’m going to wash your hair while you keep your wrapped arm on the side of the tub.” I carried her into the bathroom and sat her on the counter before running the hot water in the tub.
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Is that all you are going to . . . wash?”
I smirked, placing myself between her knees as the water ran, and gently kissed her. “Do you honestly think I could keep my hands to myself?”
“God, I hope not,” she said, slipping her fingers into my hair as she pulled me closer.
I breathed in her kiss before pulling back and placing my lips on each of the tiny cuts that scattered across her arm and neck, wishing I had some sort of magic healing powers to take them away.
“I’m fine,” she said again as if she could read my mind. “Honestly, Dash. This is nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. Blake was everything to me. And her getting hurt on my watch did nothing but make me want to force her to ride in the Tracker Jacker with John and Paul, a safe two-mile distance behind us. Then again, I knew in my heart she didn’t belong there. She belonged by me—my right hand, as she’d said. Because there was no one else who could read the sky like she could, except maybe me, which made us nearly unstoppable when it came to chasing storms.
Turning off the water, I slowly peeled her wet clothes off, the motion making me hard just from looking at her. “You look delicious,” I said and helped her into the hot water even though I knew she didn’t need it.
I sank in behind her as she situated herself between my legs. She reached behind her and placed her palm on my abs. “You’re pretty delectable yourself.” Sighing, she leaned her head back against my chest. “This is nice.”
The hot water soaked into our skin, drawing out the cold the rain had inserted into our bones. I ran my fingers along every inch of her skin, soaping her up and rinsing her down as she let her own hands wander over my legs. There was no denying how much I wanted her in that moment, or any moment, really, but I didn’t make a move—this was about her. About me wanting to apologize without saying a word because she was clearly having none of that.
She moaned as I lightly scraped her scalp, shampooing her hair and growling as she wiggled against me. She laughed, making the water tremble.
“What is so funny?” I asked as I gently pushed her down slightly to rinse out her hair.
She looked up at me from her position almost in my lap, her smile just as breathtaking from the upside-down view. “You make me feel like a queen. And then you growl when I tease you.”
I held her head in my hands, leaning over to crush my lips on hers. Warm droplets of water dripped off of me and onto her face, wetting out kiss. Sitting up, she held her arm upward as she spun around, placing a leg on either side of my hips.
“Dash,” she whispered before kissing me again.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her to me, loving the way her slick breasts felt against my hard chest. “What do you want?”
“You.” She rolled her hips on top of me, the warm water adding to her tease. “Always.”
I slipped my tongue between her lips, stealing her breath for a quick gasp before I pulled back. “Are you sure? What about your arm? I don’t want to hurt you.”
She set her wrapped arm on my shoulder, letting it hang over there. “I’m not going to break,” she said, dropping on top of me in the perfect angle for me to partially slip inside her.
I groaned. “I know that,” I said, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about her.
“Then make love to me.”
I smiled as she pressed her lips against mine.
“Hold on to me,” I said, dropping my arms from around her so I could grip her hips, guiding her until she sank on top of me.
“I can’t believe you wanted to come out tonight,” I said, eyeing Blake from where she sat next to me in the booth of the bar.
She rolled her eyes for about the thousandth time since we’d taken a bath back at the hotel. The memory sent another surge of heat to my dick, and I shook my head. I might as well be a teenager again for how quickly this woman got me hard.
“Again, I’m fine. And I really wanted a drink.” She raised her beer to me and quickly took a sip. “See? Can you stop worrying? Goodness, I’m terrified of how you’ll act if I ever actually get injured with more than a few scrapes on a chase.”
I slit my eyes at her, the cold fear turning my hot blood icy. “That isn’t funny. And those aren’t scrapes.” I eyed the thick layer of gauze over her arm.
“These are scrapes. And if you keep up this overly protective serious mood all night? I’ll have to—”
“What?” I cut her off, sliding close enough to catch her scent. “What are you going to do?” I teased, trying to lighten up like she wanted.
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Well, I still owe you a spanking.”
A thrill shot through me, the idea of her having complete power over me hotter than I would’ve thought. “I’m ready whenever you want to collect.”
“How about—”
“Oh my God! Dash!” A high-pitched squeal cut off whatever Blake was about to say, and I clenched my eyes shut for a moment before turning around.
“Tracy,” I said through a forced smile. Didn’t anyone ever move on from their old jobs anymore?
She threw her arms around my neck, jerking me into a hug before I could even try to attempt a dodge. I quickly patted her back and then pushed her away, shocked she couldn’t clearly see Blake sitting right next to me in the booth. Though, Candy had acted like she wasn’t there, either, though I didn’t have a clue why.
“How have you been? It’s been ages since you came through South Dakota!” She propped her tray on her hip, her blond hair twisted up into an elaborate bun.
I turned around with an apologetic look on my face, but Blake wasn’t even looking at me. She was staring at her beer like she either wanted to set it on fire or she wanted it to swallow her whole.
“Been good. This is my girlfriend, Blake,” I said, slipping my arm around her. Blake finally looked up and smiled at Tracy, but the gesture wasn’t returned. Instead, Tracy stood there just as Candy had, with a look of complete shock on her face. Though I could see where they were coming from, I hadn’t been down this path on tornado alley when I was with Lindsay, and every other time before that I’d always been single and . . . well, I’d loved being single—they still weren’t helping the situation with Blake. Despite me telling her that life was all in the past, I could see how uncomfortable it made her.
“Wow. Never thought I’d see the day Lexington went monogamous.” Tracy laughed awkwardly as she tilted her head. “Lots must have changed in the past couple years, yeah?”
I nodded. “Good to see you too, Tracy.”
She spun on her heels and clicked away. Part of me felt bad; the other part didn’t feel like I needed to explain that falling in love with Blake had changed my entire world.
“Is this going to happen everywhere we go?” Blake asked, fiddling with the label on her bottle.
I unhooked my arm from around her, sighing. “I wasn’t the one who wanted to come to a bar tonight. I was just fine in our room.”
“So this is my fault because I wanted to get out?” She shook her head.
“Are you seriously going to hold my past against me?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want to fight with Blake, but I didn’t know how to apologize for
something I’d done before I’d ever met her.
“No,” she said, biting her lip the way she did when she was holding something back. “Of course not. I just didn’t realize I’d have to meet the competition at every stop we make on the alley.”
A sting penetrated my chest, spider-webbing outward over my entire body like a Taser struck me. There was no way I could erase my past, who I’d been before she came into my life. How could I possibly show her there was no competition when it came to her?
I dropped my hand to my right pocket, the same pocket I always placed the ring in every morning before leaving whatever hotel we happened to be in. Asking her to spend her life with me would definitely put an end to her feeling like she was competing for my attention. I let go of the notion, shaking my head to myself as I grabbed my beer. I would not propose to her because she was angry with me, or frustrated, or whatever the hell it was that I’d done wrong . . . over two years ago.
“Dash, I’m—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off. “I’m not in the mood to spank you right now.” The hurt look on her face sent another shockwave of pain from my chest, but I was too wound up to sit still. I cupped her cheek in my hand, sighing. “I wouldn’t take back my past, Blake. Because somehow it led me to you. The only thing I’d ever change would be to have met you sooner. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you not see that.” I kissed her forehead and slipped out of the booth, crossing the room to where Paul and John played pool against a pair of girls.
I didn’t want to leave her alone there, but if I had sat there a second longer, wallowing in guilt over a lifestyle I’d adapted before I’d even known she’d existed, well, I would’ve either asked her to marry me to prove to her it didn’t matter anymore, or I would’ve admitted her disappointment in who I used to be hurt nearly as bad as her thinking she had competition.
Because if she could honestly think that, it meant she didn’t believe I was in this for the long haul—that I was just trying out another relationship to see if it worked—and that thought hurt worse than any of the others combined.
“You all right, man?” John asked while he waited for his turn to shoot next.
“Yeah,” I lied, a twisting sensation wringing out my gut. If Blake thought I was with her until the next skirt reminded me of the life I’d been missing, then I wondered if she really knew me at all?
Blake
“BLAKE, DO YOU have a second?” Daniel asked, stopping me on my way back to my room. He looked fresh out of a shower and on his way to bed, his hair standing up in wet spikes and sweats covering his legs as opposed to the suits he normally wore.
I hadn’t bothered telling Dash I was leaving the bar. He was clearly upset that I’d pointed out the array of gorgeous women we continuously ran into on this trip. Was I really that out of line? How would he feel if all the hot men I’d been with in my past kept popping up like Magic Mike Jack-in-the-boxes? I chuckled to myself as I nodded at Daniel, who was waiting for me to answer. Who was I kidding? Dash would never be in that situation because I’d been with exactly one other man in my entire life.
“Thanks,” Daniel said, motioning toward the bank of chairs in the lobby. “Sit with me a moment?”
Though I was far from in the mood to talk about anything dealing with the show, especially since I was upset that he’d pushed Dash into getting closer than we’d needed to, which resulted in me cut up and Dash overworrying about it like crazy, I sat. I would not ruin this for our team just because I wasn’t entirely on board with everything our producer wanted. There were too many people who could benefit from a show like this—the funding alone would allow us to make advancements so much quicker than we would had we not received it.
“What’s up?” I asked after taking my seat. As I leaned back in the chair, I took a deep breath because my patience with Daniel as of right now was wearing thin.
“I wanted to apologize about the chase,” he said, eyeing the gauze over my arm.
I wondered if it had been Paul who had gotten sliced up would they be treating him as if he were so fragile? Dash’s worry I understood; he loved me, so it put him at an irrational disadvantage when I got hurt. Everyone else, though? They had no excuse.
“Like I told Dash,” I said, raising the injured arm, “this happens and could happen on any chase we’re on. Dash almost had his femoral artery torn open once.” The memory made my muscles clench, and the fear that rushed through my blood made me think I should go easy on Dash the next time he worried over me.
“Understood.” Daniel nodded. “I want you to know I have this team’s best interests at heart.”
I arched an eyebrow at him, not truly believing the worth of that statement. Dash had the best intentions for us, not the man who worried about ratings and wanted me to make out with my boyfriend on camera to help add scintillation to the footage between storms.
“You may not believe that,” he continued, “but let me put it this way.” He shifted in his seat, throwing one leg over the other to cross them. “If you all do well, then I do well. The show does well; the network does well. It’s all connected. And I want to keep you all funded as much as I want you to catch storms on camera for me.”
There was no denying that logic. I supposed it was true that if we somehow ended up with nothing but busts the rest of the season, our show would be canceled faster than a lightning strike.
“Fine,” I said, sitting up to lean closer to him so he could read the seriousness in my eyes. “But you have to understand that what Dash wants for this team will always be the course of action we take. He’s the leader we follow, but our collaboration is what makes us unique. We’re all vital to the team, and if some outside force is causing rifts . . .” I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I thought about Daniel pushing issues that weren’t his call to make. “People will start getting actually hurt.” I glanced down at my arm, shaking my head. “Much worse than a few cuts. So let Dash make the calls. You have no reason not to trust that he’ll get the best shots out there. He always has. The only thing that has changed is the equipment we use.”
Daniel smirked, tilting his head. “Oh, now let’s be honest with each other, Blake.”
I pressed my lips together, utterly confused by that statement. “I am.”
“The equipment isn’t the only thing that has changed.” He pointed to me. “You were only on the alley a couple of weeks last season and didn’t catch a thing.”
I studied him and wondered what point he was trying to make? We’d caught several scattered tornadoes before Dash asked me to go on the alley with him at the tail end of storm season, and yeah, it had given us nothing, but it wasn’t my fault. “Are you trying to say I can control the weather? Make it not happen? Because that is ridiculous.”
“No, of course not. I’m saying you changed this team. You changed Dash. He is no longer the man in the older videos you see on his little website. Now, instead of listening to his instincts, which always led him to capturing the most incredible storms from proximities no chaser would ever attempt, now he listens to you.”
A punch in my chest had me gasping for air, the notion so far from my mind it was like a quick shock as he laid it out for me.
That’s not true. My mind tried to defend the situation, but no words came out as I looked back over the past year, thinking about how much had changed. Had I dulled Dash’s instincts that had made him the chaser he was? Did I cloud his judgment? Would he be doing better on the alley without me?
My stomach churned—first the girls I didn’t stack up to, and now I was questioning my very presence on his team. How did I get here?
Before the season had started, I was living in the beautiful world where Dash and I barely left each other’s sides. And before tonight, the only arguments we ever had were where we wanted to eat or what movie we were going to watch—even then I think he play-fought me because he wanted to pretend to make-up.
“I’m beat,” Daniel said, stretching his arms ov
er his head. I’d completely forgot he was there as I’d gotten lost in my own thoughts. “Do you ever get used to the adrenaline crash after a chase?” he asked, standing up and looking down at me.
“No,” I said, meeting him at eye level. “That’s the beauty in the chase. No two are alike.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Good night, Daniel,” I said, and walked to the elevator bank, happy he didn’t follow. I didn’t need a silent and awkward ride up with him, though I didn’t know which floor his room was on. He’d put enough in my head to make me want to strangle him, but I couldn’t deny some of the things he’d brought to light.
Maybe I was a danger to Dash. Maybe by having my presence on a chase, he questioned every move he made. That wasn’t fair to him.
You’re a team. He doesn’t see you as a weakness.
My heart spoke the words I wanted logic to say, but how often did the two ever really mesh? The battle raged in my head, unrelenting and exhausting as I tossed and turned for two hours in our empty bed. The longer it remained empty, the more I thought about where Dash was—my heart telling me he was with Paul and John, but my brain conjuring images of Tracy tracking him down and convincing him to leave me. Not only was my position on the team crumbling in my mind, but so was my place next to Dash.
Because, despite knowing he loved me, despite knowing he was perfect for me, I was starting to wonder if I really was perfect for him? Because if I was unknowingly swaying his judgments on chases, that was messing with his livelihood, his passion. And if I was keeping him from a life he used to love, a bevy of beauties waiting for him at every stop to tend to his every need . . . well, how could I ever compete with that? I had no experience when it came to sex, and Justin . . . fuck, he’d gone so far as to say I was awful in bed.
The image of Justin, in prison and miserable, made my stomach turn sour. Again I wondered how I had gone from the excitement of being on the alley to this new form of hell I was tormenting myself with now. And the longer I battled, the more I wished Dash would walk through the door, so he could quiet my mind and assure me my rapid-fire thoughts were simply insane.