by James, Marie
“It’s easy for you to move past what’s happened because you can’t remember it, but it’s going to take longer for me.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” I answer honestly. “I feel like a fool for even sitting here with you. Like I’m crazy for even considering dating you.”
“You’re mine,” he whispers.
“The alpha routine doesn’t help,” I tell him, but it kind of does in a way.
Not having to make that decision, knowing that he’s going to be there regardless of how I treat him, is a powerful thing. And even though I’m not a vindictive person at heart, it makes me want to test his loyalty, to push him and see what I can get away with as retribution for how he’s treated me.
Then I remember the shine in Violet’s eyes when he introduced himself earlier. He’s got options whether he wants to use them right now or not.
“Piper?” His finger hooks under my chin as he urges me to look at him. “Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. I know it’s going to take time, but please promise me that you’ll at least try. Give me a chance, baby, and I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it.”
Chapter 29
Dalton
“This isn’t what I had in mind,” I mutter.
“You said, and I quote, ‘Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.’ Did you not tell me that earlier this week?” She raises an eyebrow, a tiny smile playing on her pink lips, and I’m a goner for this girl.
“I did, but I didn’t think you’d have me dressed as ‘Clifford the Big Red Dog’ on the hottest day of the year.”
“It’s barely eighty-five,” she tells me.
“But it’s like a million degrees in this costume.” I don’t mention that my balls are sticking to my damn legs because I don’t think she can appreciate the torture that entails.
“We’ll only be out here for a few more minutes. It’s almost time to go inside and read.”
She asked me to help with her volunteer hours at the library, and I readily agreed, knowing that I’d do just about anything to spend a little more time with her. I’d still be here right now, even if I knew what I was getting into.
“It’s so hot,” I grumble again as she greets families of small children with a wide smile like she’s living her best life right now.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she purrs in my ear as a family of five walks away.
“How so?” I ask, my blood already growing warmer with the thoughts of how the repayment could go.
She’s different than she was in the car on Monday, but every once in a while, I catch a look in her eyes that makes me want to wrap my arms around her and assure her that I’m the man she needs me to be. It’s when she’s alone that I worry the doubt will take over, and I wait, holding my breath every morning until she shows up at the house to tutor Peyton. Three out of the last four days, she’s walked right into my arms, pressing her lips to mine before going to find my sister, but Thursday was a rough day for her, and she just gave me a sad smile and a peck on the lips before disappearing into the kitchen. That day I gave her space, not knowing if she needed that or for me to make myself more visible. The space seemed to work because when she was done, she found Preston and me in the pool splashing around, and she finally had the smile I love so much on her pretty face.
Today is a good day, too.
Today, she came to my front door and pressed her lips to mine before she even spoke a word. Today, she didn’t pull her hand from mine when my dad saw us standing on the front porch together. Today, she grinned the entire time on the way to the library, and now I know why.
She’s rejoicing in my misery.
“How so?” I repeat when she winks at me as another family makes their way into the library.
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip before she speaks, “How do you want me to repay you?”
I don’t know if she means for her voice to be sultry or if she’s just curious, but my cock jerks in the costume because of the way she’s looking at me.
“I’m sweating bullets,” I remind her. “Maybe you could help me in the shower later?”
I’m pressing my luck right now. Other than a few hands above the shoulders make-out sessions, we haven’t even gotten as close as we did earlier this week at the snow cone stand. I’m proud to say I’ve had herculean restraint where she’s concerned.
“You want me to pick out a change of clothes?” She inches closer, and my eyes do their best to stay focused on hers rather than her mouth or the tiny amount of cleavage swelling at the top of her tank top. “Maybe get you a fresh towel?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of washing my back.” I clear my throat when the words come out husky and barely intelligible. “Maybe making sure my legs are clean?”
“My clothes would get wet.”
“You could take them off,” I suggest as she steps even closer to me. “Maybe shower with me.”
Her throat works on a swallow, and then she nearly kills me by licking her lips. “I don’t hate the idea.”
“That’s a start.” My mouth is dry, and I’m moments away from grabbing her hand and insisting we go back to my house.
“Why do you turn me on so much?” she whispers. “I probably shouldn’t even admit it out loud, but I find you almost irresistible.”
Words that should make me smile in victory are like buckets of ice-cold water being poured on my head. It’s clear she still feels like she can’t be completely honest with me, and it’s a barrier I’ve been fighting against. I know I need to give her time, and I’m doing my best, but the one step forward two steps back is frustrating. I’m not upset with her, but at myself, for the monster I used to be that’s made her so apprehensive in the first place.
I palm her face, looking directly into her eyes. “I’m not filing things away to use against you later, Piper. We’re working at your pace here. There’s no pressure on my end. Please tell me that you know that?”
“I do,” she responds immediately.
“Look, Momma! It’s Clifford!” Before I can pull away from Piper, a little girl, no older than three runs toward us with a huge smile on her face.
“Hi, there!” I tell her, using a fake voice for some reason.
Many kids have been leery of getting close to me in this costume, but this girl isn’t afraid at all.
“Are you ready for storytime?” I ask her.
She nods enthusiastically before sprinting ahead of her mom to go inside.
“Ready to read to them?” Piper asks with a brilliant smile.
I nod, just as the little girl did, but I don’t think I’m giving off the same effect. The big red head just slips back and forth, and I probably look like I’m headbanging to silent music from Piper’s point of view.
***
“That wasn’t so bad,” I admit as I strip out of the stifling costume in the library’s employee breakroom.
“I knew you’d have a great time.” Piper beams.
“I didn’t say I had a great time,” I confess, sticking with my vow to never lie to her again. “I said it wasn’t bad.”
“So, you don’t want to help next weekend?”
My eyes narrow at her because she already knows the answer. “Does it include another costume that’s going to have to be dry-cleaned before someone else wears it?”
“Next week is Harold and the Purple Crayon. We’re going to draw pictures. No costumes involved.”
“That I can do,” I tell her, wanting to pull her into my arms just like I’ve wanted since we arrived, but I wasn’t lying about the temp inside that suit.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asks as she gathers the suit up.
I wipe sweat off my face with the bottom of my t-shirt, loving the way her eyes are glued to my abs.
“I can think of a few things. What are you thinking right now?”
Her guilty eyes snap up to mine, and I grin at her.
“We haven’t been alone all week,�
� she says, derailing my thoughts of grabbing ice cream or heading to the mall in the next town.
“That’s been purposeful on my part,” I admit.
“You don’t want to be alone with me?”
“I want nothing more.”
“But you’ve purposely kept that from happening?”
Her head tilts in confusion, but the saucy look in her eyes makes me wonder if she’s merely playing coy.
“I don’t want to take things any further than what you’re comfortable with.”
“And you think if I’m alone with you, I won’t be able to resist you?” She bites her damn lip again, and the sight of that flesh between her teeth makes my body come alive with need.
“I think you may want things in the moment, but I couldn’t live with myself if you regretted something you did with me. I know you still struggle with trusting me.”
She sobers with my words, the playful look on her face melting away until she’s frowning in my direction.
“I’m trying,” she whispers.
“I know. That’s why I’ve wanted to keep things light with no pressure. Your pace, remember?”
“We can do things other than having sex.”
Oh, God. This woman is going to kill me.
“We could go to the mall,” I offer, “or grab some ice cream?”
Lord knows I need something to cool me down. I’m pretty sure I’ve had sex before, but since I can’t remember it, I’m a ball of horny energy. My mind is always on sex. Always. And even though in my head I want to take things slowly, I know my body will be able to change my mind if I’m in the position to make it happen.
“Or,” her tone changes back from cautious Piper to the vixen I love more and more each day, “we could go make out at the park.”
“The park?” That seems like a semi-private, yet very public place. We could be mostly safe from my overactive libido there.
“You want to go for a walk?”
She smiles, the wicked thoughts in her head displayed blatantly on her pretty face. “I don’t want to walk.”
I swallow thickly, both hating and loving that a simple conversation has set my body on fire. If I thought she was ready, and it was her suggestion, I’d take her right here in this breakroom; consequences be damned.
But we’re not there yet.
“You want to make out,” I clarify, “in the park.”
“Yes,” she answers. “And if you’re a good boy, I may even let you get to second base.”
My eyes dart to her chest, watching it rise and fall rapidly with her elevated breathing.
“You like that idea,” she says with a chuckle.
“I love any idea that involves touching you or spending time with you. I’d be almost as happy just hanging out with you watching a movie.”
It’s mostly the truth, but the laughter that emits from Piper tells me that she knows it’s not one-hundred-percent honesty.
“Let’s drop this,” she holds the Clifford costume up, “at the dry cleaners, and we’ll go from there.”
Chapter 30
Piper
“Why are you whispering the alphabet?” I laugh at the sight of Dalton with his eyes squeezed closed. His lips have been repeating letters rather than kissing mine like I want them to be doing.
“Your hand,” he mutters between M and N.
“This one?” I flex my fingers on his thigh.
“Y-yeah. Every time you do that, it makes my jeans tighter. Well, my—” He clears his throat. “Let’s go for that walk.”
“I think that bulge is the problem, not your jeans.”
His lips work faster, already back to XYZ for the second time since he last spoke.
“Dalton?” I remove my hand from his leg and cup his face. “Are you freaking out?”
His head shakes back and forth. “I’m trying not to nut in my jeans.”
A bark of laughter escapes my lips. “Seriously?”
“Are you making fun of me? That’s really mean, Piper.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or if he's serious.
“I’m not making fun of you.” I sit back in my seat since I was practically on top of him and pout. “I just didn’t think I affected you that much.”
He shakes his head, eyes still closed, but at least he’s no longer repeating the dang alphabet. “You just don’t understand.”
“Is this the part where you make fun of me for being a virgin and not knowing anything about guys?”
His eyes snap to mine. “I love that you don’t have any experience, but what you’re not understanding is that I don’t remember anything from my past. I might as well be a virgin, too.”
He huffs, and I don’t know if he’s irritated with himself or me.
“So, you’re keyed up?” I hedge. He nods, tongue sneaking out to lick his lips. The action shoots straight between my thighs, and it’s my turn to swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Well, I am, too.”
His eyelids lower, heat filling his gaze as he watches my mouth. “And I’m ecstatic about that, but you can hide your reaction to me. I can’t do that.”
He motions to the erection straining in his jeans.
“You want me to describe in detail how wet my panties are?”
He groans again, head rolling on the headrest before he focuses outside of the car.
He suggested the park, but I’m driving, so we ended up in the most secluded place I could find. The lone woman walking her dog is so far away, I can’t even tell what breed is on the other end of her leash.
“I’d love to find out how wet you are,” he says after a long moment.
I bite my lips, on the verge of offering him just that, but he seems both tortured and turned on by the suggestion. I don’t want to pressure him into anything, not that I think he’d turn me down, but it’s the sting of possibly being rejected that makes me take pause.
“We can just make out,” I offer instead. “Kissing and above the waist stuff.”
He rolls his head back in my direction. “And that may still be enough to make a mess in my jeans.”
“Okaaay,” I draw out. “Then, I’m up for suggestions.”
He shakes his head as if he’s battling inside of it. “Come here.”
He holds his arms open wide, and I lean in closer.
“No,” he says when I pucker my lips playfully for him to kiss. “Straddle me.”
“What?”
That doesn’t seem very conducive to preventing what he doesn’t want to happen. My core throbs at the suggestion, but I don’t move.
“Come here,” he repeats. “Just kissing, promise.”
“And what about your problem?” I point to the thickness in his lap.
“That’s not going to go away until I take care of it.”
“Then take care of it.”
His eyes widen as his frantic eyes dart back and forth between mine. “You want me to jack off in your car?”
“Eww!” I swat his chest. “No. That’s gross.”
“That’s the only way to make it go away,” he grumbles.
“Go into the bathroom over there.” I motion my head to the concrete building at the beginning of the trailhead.
“That would be pointless because I’m always hard around you. Plus, I’m not going to rub one out in a public bathroom.”
“Then what—”
“Hush.” He presses his fingers to my lips. “Come here. Let me worry about it later. Climb on my lap.”
I realize I should exercise more, or at least stretch more often, because climbing into his lap in my car is clunky and not as easy as I’ve seen it done in the movies. I nearly knee Dalton in the face, but he has quick reflexes and somehow prevents my leg from making contact with his nose.
“Sexy, right?” I mutter when I finally settle on top of him.
The door is digging into my left knee, and the other one is crammed in beside the gear shift, but the warmth of his body is a lovely reward.
“Everythi
ng about you is sexy.”
“I’m already in your lap. Don’t get corny now.”
“Lower,” he urges with his hands on my lower back.
I drop down, coming to rest exactly where he wants me. His thickness is to the left and under my leg, and it doesn’t seem like it would be comfortable for him, but he doesn’t complain.
“Mouth,” he whispers, and I move without a second thought.
His lips are warm, teasing, and slow against mine. There isn’t a hint of the frenzy filling my own veins, and I let him lead, willing to follow him anywhere at this point.
I whimper a moan, my hips moving of their own accord.
“Stay still,” he whispers. “Just let me kiss you.”
Need as I’ve never felt before thrums through my body, and even though I want to rub myself all over him like a cat desperate for attention, I stay as still as possible.
His hands flex on my back, kneading my muscles in all the right places as his tongue explores my mouth with sensual licks that begin to drive me crazy.
“Touch me,” I beg, and I’m not sure where I want him to start because I need him everywhere.
I want his hands and mouth on my breasts, but my core is also craving attention.
“Where?” he asks, his lips trailing hot kisses down my neck.
I don’t answer him, afraid of sounding too reckless at this moment, but he must be a mind reader because his lips leave my neck as he begins to lick and kiss the swell of my breasts.
“Is this okay?” he asks on a pant as his tongue teases the seam of my tank top.
“Yes,” I moan.
My nose scrunches up as I cringe with the need evident in my voice, but I don’t spend long worrying if I sound like a fool because Dalton hooks a finger into the top of my tank, pulling it down to give his mouth more room to explore. The top of my lacy bra is exposed to him, and I can see what he’s talking about when I look down to watch him. My chest is flushed with my arousal, and from this angle, my boobs look spectacular. Now I know why so many women take selfies from a higher angle. It’s very flattering.
“You’re perfect,” he praises against my heaving chest. “So perfect.”