Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

Definitely not. I did not need a drunk Dahlia in my trailer.

"Your place."

"Fine. But only because I was already ready to go, not because you're telling me to go home."

She came up to my chin with the ankle breakers she was wearing. And dammit, I couldn't stop staring at her blood-red lips.

"I don't care. Just go in there." I pointed to a stall.

"So bossy," she muttered as she locked the door. "Don't listen."

I rolled my eyes. Not like it wasn't a bodily function we all did or anything. "Not listening."

I leaned against the tiled wall. I did not need this tonight. I'd stopped in for a beer with Gideon to talk about a tentative schedule. The Spinning Wheel in the Cove was still closed for renovations after their flooding, and I'd already been in Kensington Square from...earlier.

I closed my eyes. I should have just left things alone. Hell, I hadn't even known she was here since they were sitting at a booth tucked in the back corner. I hadn't met their last partner yet, so there was no reason for me to have noticed that damn booth.

Except I recognized her laugh. And the lamenting moan.

Mostly, the moan. I still heard it in my head when I allowed things to get too quiet.

The moan that ended with a sigh and my name.

The door banged open, and she stared at me from the doorway. Her hair was curly as it had been on the rainy day she'd brought me home to the Airstream. This time, it was wilder, if that was possible. It made her heart-shaped face seem even younger. Except for her eyes. They were hot and angry, which always lit me up.

"You're still here."

"Of course, I am."

She walked relatively straight to the sink and washed her hands. "I live across the street, remember? You don't need to worry about me."

"You're drunk."

"I'm rapidly sobering, because you're a killjoy."

"There's a roomful of assholes who wouldn't mind following you out the door."

"First of all, the bartender would kick their ass. Colder and Cal don't allow that bullshit here."

"They can't watch everyone."

She rolled her eyes in the mirror. "And the girls wouldn't let me get into trouble."

"The girls are just as sauced as you are." I ripped off a strip of paper towels and handed it to her.

"You made it abundantly clear that I wasn't to count on you today. Now you're gonna be all grr ." She blotted the wet towel on her throat and all the gold that glittered there drew my gaze. This wasn't the business Dahlia from this afternoon. Even dressed down, there had been an air of professionalism to her.

Except when we'd gotten into that secret room in my house. There had been unchecked wonder in her eyes then.

Excitement that fired something in me I'd thought was long dead.

But this Dahlia was showing off everything. The legs I'd had wrapped around me. The neck that made me want to bite and lick. But most of all, those damn breasts were on display due to her plunging neckline.

And there had been plenty of men checking her out.

I'd noticed a few wolves circling the room, paying special attention to the back booth. There was a watchfulness that certain men—and women—had when they were on the make.

Worst of all, she'd been oblivious to the attention. The girls had been in their own little bubble. What would have happened when she left if I hadn't been there?

"What is going on up there?" She tapped my forehead. "So thinky all the time. So few words that come out of here." Her fingertip lowered to my lip. "Talented though it may be."

I couldn't resist nipping the tip of her finger.

Her eyes narrowed as she jerked it back.

The door opened, breaking the tension between us.

TJ and Avery slipped in, holding something that only a woman would call a purse.

"Damn," Avery muttered. "I had twenty on you guys making out in here."

Dahlia turned and her ass slid across my zipper. I resisted the groan, barely.

"So, you were going to interrupt? Or were you trying to critique?"

I gripped her hip. "Hellcat."

"Hellcat?" Avery gave us a shit-eating smile. "You two already have nicknames? I don't think your story time was detailed enough, Dahl."

"We called a ride share and wanted to make sure you're okay. Should we walk you home first?" TJ asked.

"I got her."My voice was a step away from feral. Dahlia was making me mental.

She elbowed me. "I'm fine."

TJ glanced from Dahlia to me, and her eyes narrowed. "You sure?"

Dahlia slipped away from me, and my fingers curled back into my palm. She hugged both of them, then she took the little bag. "I'm fine. He's all bark." She glanced over her shoulder at me. "Mostly." She turned back and lowered her voice. "Think I might have found a solution for my kitty problem."

What was wrong with her kitty?

Cat. It had to be the cat.

I didn't want to think about the other meaning for kitty. And Christ, my body already hummed at the thought of helping her out with whatever she wanted right about then.

"Good luck." TJ's gaze crashed into mine. "I have your address and your personal information. If you do something to her, your life won't be worth living."

At least that threat was a little more inventive than Macy and Gideon's. "She's safe with me."

" Hmm ." TJ hugged Dahlia once more for good measure. "See you Monday, girlfriend."

"Bye, Dahl. We took care of the check." Avery waggled her eyebrows before she ducked out the door, dragging TJ along with her.

"What's wrong with your cat?"

Dahlia slipped her arm through mine. "Let's walk, shall we?"

How did I go from having to convince her that she needed to go home to that secretive look in her deep, dark eyes?

She was a little steadier once she got to the hallway leading back into the main seating area of the bar, except for the way she kept brushing my arm with her breast.

A blond dude at the bar gave me a sharp look. He didn't take his eyes off me while he asked, "Dahlia? You good?"

"Yes. We're...friends. Don't worry. Thanks, Colder."

The way she paused at the word friends made me feel like worm food, but she was right. We weren't anything except two people who'd already had a lot of hot moments, both fighting-wise and sexual. Not necessarily her choice, either.

I knew she would be open to more. Could feel it in the way she reached out for me. Not to mention all the words left unsaid in those beseeching eyes that haunted me.

I wasn't good for her. Wasn't good for anyone, really.

That didn't seem to matter to Dahlia. She tucked herself under my arm and I had little choice but to put my arm around her. It was as if she was made for my body in so many ways. Her hand rested on my chest as we came to a pause in the median.

It was a community space of sorts lined with trees and benches, as well as a few dog-watering stations. It reminded me of Crescent Cove without the overt small-town vibe. This was more urban young professional.

"I need a little air before we go inside." She steered me to the bench under the canopy of trees. "Clear my head a bit."

When she looked at me like that, there was very little I could say no to when it came to her. I let her sit first and she grabbed my hand, to pull me down with her. "Hellcat..."

"I'm not asking for undying devotion here. Just freaking sit down for a second and be. Can you do that?"

Sighing, I sat down.

Instead of staying on her side of the bench, she swung her legs up across mine. "My feet are killing me."

"No one made you wear those ice picks."

She flexed her foot and her calves tightened. "But they make my legs look amazing." She gave me a wicked smile when I said nothing. "I know they do. You don't have to agree."

I ground my molars together. "You know you're beautiful."

"And you know you're an asshole. Some things don't need to be said, right?"

"You're a mouthy drunk."

She leaned forward and said in an Irish whisper, "I'm just unfiltered. There's a difference."

"Is that right?" I didn't realize I'd dropped my arm over her legs. My thumb automatically stroked her knee.

She licked her lips, her attention on my mouth, then suddenly, she leaned back on the arm of the bench, tipping her chin back to let her hair fall behind her. "This is nice."

Nice wasn't the word as far as I was concerned. She was stunning and so free with her emotions. Pleasure—bam. There it was, she took it as if it was her right. Anger—let it fly. Laughter—bawdy and unrestrained.

She made me want things I couldn't ever deserve.

She lifted her head, then she swung her legs off me with a gusty sigh. "You are not relaxing."

"I haven't had as much tequila or food as you have."

"True. You should have." She stood and turned to face me. "Not everything is doom and gloom, Beasty."

"You're keeping that one in your outside voice?"

She cupped my face in both of her hands. "I've been known to tame a few animals. I'm not afraid of you."

I tried to push her hands away. "You should be."

She held firm. "You are your own worst enemy, you know that?" Her eyes were a little unfocused, but she wasn't as drunk as I'd originally thought. Then she patted my good cheek. "Now I'm ready for my bed."

An older couple sat across from us on one of the other benches. The woman was grinning at us and nudging her husband.

Dahlia grabbed my hand and dragged me across the crosswalk. The traffic had lightened, and her doorman was gone for the evening. She stopped outside the door. I was so busy looking around, assessing pedestrian traffic, that I collided with the back of her. I grabbed her around her waist, so she didn't topple over.

She tipped up her head. "Need my key."

My gaze drifted to those crimson lips of hers. Even after her drinking and eating, they were still a distracting siren song. They pursed into a half pout, half smile before she bit her lower lip.

Damn, her. She knew what she was doing. "Fuck it." I hauled her into me and brushed my lips over hers.

Her arms twined around my neck, and she pressed every inch of herself against me. She tasted of salt and tequila and that certain something that was only Dahlia. I tried to keep it light, but as usual, there was no half measure when it came to us.

Her nails scraped into my hair as she pulled me down to her for a deeper kiss.

"Get a room!"

Dahlia tore her mouth from mine before she shot a dirty look over her shoulder at the stranger.

My fingers dug into her hip. "You're killing me."

Her attention back on me, her smile was devastating. "Kill me inside." She fumbled with her purse. "After I find my key fob."

I kept her close to me as a crowd of people coming out of a market converged on us.

She waved her keys over the electronic pad on the door and we both slipped inside. The temperature dropped considerably in the lobby. It should have doused the fire between us, but she just shoved her keys in her pocket and hauled me through the common area to the elevators.

She pushed me against the doors and went onto her toes again, nipping at my lower lip. "Why do you always taste so good?" She stuffed her hand into my pocket, humming as she felt how hard I was. But instead of copping a feel, she went for my box of candy.

"You like a bit of heat, Hellcat?"

She flicked out one of the slivers of Red Hots and put it on her tongue, then she covered my mouth.

The flash of cinnamon and Dahlia was a heady mix. She slid the candy along my tongue before sucking it into her mouth. She hissed at the heat, then when it dissolved, there was nothing but her and me.

The doors opened and we fell back with a laugh.

Her eyes lit. "You do know how to laugh."

I slapped the second-floor button and lifted her up against me. "Laughing is overrated when I can have all of this occupying my mouth instead."

Her legs went around my waist, and she chuckled into my mouth. "You do have a very good argument." She buried her fingers in my hair as her thighs pulsed around my middle. "You feel so good."

I leaned back enough to take a look at her.

She crossed her eyes and gave me an adorable grin. "You're not taking advantage of me. I can hear your brain from here."

"Is that right?"

She laced her fingers behind my neck. "Yes. It's saying I should deposit her at her door and leave. But you see, there's this thing about being a bit buzzed. It may not be the most elegant sex, but it's always the best kind." She nipped my lip. "No extra thoughts. Just feeling good. I just want to feel good. Don't you?"

"Yes."

The elevator doors opened, and I backed up enough for her to slide down to her feet. She drew me out, her long forefinger hooking into my belt loop. She walked backwards and all that riotous hair haloed around her head in the muted light.

She was leading me around by my dick for all intents and purposes, and I just didn't give a shit. She unlocked the door, reached inside for the light, then her little purse and heels hit the floor immediately, and she leaped at me.

If I hadn't been so in tune with her, she would have knocked me over.

She wound herself around me, and my hands went to her ass to hold her tight. We were little more than clashing mouths and twisted limbs as we careened into her living room. It was only because I'd been there once before that I knew the layout of the room enough that I fell on her couch with her on my lap. She pushed at my shirt, and I was out of my head enough that I didn't stop her fast enough.

Clearly, she didn't care as her lips raced over my neck and chest.

I tried to twist away to find the shirt, but shepinned me to the couch with her knees. "No hiding from me this time." She drew her fingertips lightly over the scar that made a jagged trail over my neck to my chest. She followed it with her mouth, then she made a detour to twine her tongue around my nipple.

I slammed my eyes shut and tipped my head back on the couch cushions because I knew how bad it was. The scarred flesh and grafts along the left side were still angry, even after a year of healing. She would get a good long look and be repulsed. She'd seen a little of it in the trailer, but that time, I'd been little more than shadows and gruff annoyance.

Not to mention, I'd been in the midst of a migraine hangover and mean with it.

This was very different.

All the lights were on in her apartment, and I wanted her hands on me, not to drive her away.

"Nolan. Look at me."

I didn't realize my hands were fisted at my sides.

She lifted her shirt and tossed it away, then she took my hands and brought them to her breasts. "Focus on me. Touch me."

I cupped her and leaned forward to taste the salt of her skin above the edge of her lacy bra. I coasted up to her neck. I found that little patch of freckles that made me crazy and sucked lightly. She purred and moved enough to get our mouths lined up.

I opened my eyes, and her gaze was unwavering. She was focused on me, not the scars. Not now, anyway.

She fumbled with my belt."Tell me you still have those condoms."

I lifted my hips enough to dig into my pocket and tossed the box of candy on the coffee table, then I unearthed my wallet.

We fumbled with our clothes, and another laugh rolled out of me as we battled to get free of cotton and lace.

Until it came to me getting free of my jeans. My fingers froze over the zipper.

The worst of the torn-up skin peeked from my zipper and across my side. The skin grafts and mottled skin continued past my zipper, down my thigh.

She cupped my face and pressed a kiss to my cheek, then to the side with my scar and then to my mouth. "Just be with me. It's about you. Your scars don't bother me." She didn't look away from me as I rolled on the condom, and she still didn't as she climbed onto me.

My fingers dug into her hip with one hand as the other lined us up.

Her eyes slipped shut for a moment as she took all of me, then they lazily opened again with a soft smile. She clasped me so damn tightly that a growl rolled through my chest. Her eyes were dilated with a mixture of lust and the remnants of her buzz. "So good."

We moved slowly at first. We were usually in a race to the end, but not this time. The playfulness from the elevator fell away into a cocoon of softness. She rolled her hips before she tipped forward and took me deeper. She stilled there and pulsed around me, her grin as destructive as her perfect, clasping body. Then she started moving again and with each undulating motion, she wrapped around me in every way. Arms, legs hugging my thighs, even her hair brushed along my face as we were lost in the endless rhythm of each other.

I lifted my hand to cup the back of her head as the final piece slid together. Her mouth on mine, her breath flowing in between us as she sighed out my name.

Until the slowness wasn't enough anymore.

Her breath went from soft sighs to gasps as restlessness overrode the sweetness and her kisses became rougher, and the friction became all we could concentrate on. She threw her head back, and I took the opportunity to race over her neck to her shoulder. I couldn't get enough of her flavor on my tongue.

My other hand coasted up to cup her breast. I peeled the lace of her bra away from her skin to taste her. The brown sugar color of her nipple deepened as I drew on her until it popped from my lips, and then I greedily went for the other one.

She arched into my touch, and I sucked and bit at her until she cried out. Her hips controlled just how fast and deep she took me.

She rose onto her knees and held onto the couch, and I followed her up, unable to accept a disconnect. I drove up into her as my thighs burned at the position. Then I lifted her and rolled her under me on the couch so I could drive down into her. I pushed her legs apart to get closer, then I hooked her knee over my shoulder, and she gasped.

"More."

Sweat dripped down my beard and between us, but I gave her more. My spine burned as I thrust again and again, trying desperately to hold onto my sanity.

As demanding as she was, it matched and doubled inside of me as I poured out all that frustration and anger into her willing body.

She shuddered under me, and still, I insisted on more.

She rose off the couch, meeting me stroke for stroke until we were both gasping for oxygen. She gripped my shoulders, and I knew she was close.

I couldn't get her over from here without a little extra help. I ground down, letting some of my weight onto her so I could get a hand between us. My thumb stroked her clit in tandem until she shouted out my name. She almost bucked me off in the frenzy, but I held her down and she vised around me until I had no choice but to follow her over.

I threw my head back and the growl that consumed me flowed into her as I came.

Would it ever not be this intense with her?

I shifted her on the couch, aware that I was crushing her. Instead of letting me go, she situated her legs around my hips and held onto me. "Don't go."

"I'm too heavy."

"Just right." Her arms slid under mine to lightly stroke down my back. "I like touching your skin. Feeling it against mine."

"Ah, Hellcat."

She nuzzled my neck. "I don't like that you feel like you have to hide yourself from me."

I tried to pull away, but she held on. "Dahlia."

"I'm not asking for too much, Nolan."

"You're asking for everything."

She sighed and let her arms fall. "I guess in your mind I am."

Her face was flushed, and her hair was even bigger, if that was at all possible. But she was achingly beautiful and painted with my marks. My beard, my mouth, my teeth.

Even trying to be gentler, I'd still been too rough.

She lifted her hand to touch my mouth. As if she'd read my mind. "You are worth so much more than you're allowing yourself. Allowing us ." She brushed a kiss along my scar, then she wiggled for freedom.

I rolled to the side to release her, and my chest ached as she gathered her clothes and escaped down the hall.

Her cat appeared a moment later, his huge green eyes far too intelligent and knowing. He leaped up on the coffee table in front of the couch and started washing his face with his paw.

I collapsed onto my face. I couldn't just be a normal guy with her after sex. Nope, just the animal who wanted all of her, then I completely went sideways with my stupid mouth.

The cat jumped on my back and used his claws to knead into my skin. " Ow !" I tried to shake him off, but he settled into the dip in my lower back above where my jeans were loose. "Are you kidding me right now?"

A giggle came from the hallway. I looked up and she was wearing a silky robe thing, and her hair was up in one of those messy knots women did so carelessly. "He really does like you." She came back to sit on the coffee table in front of me. "Which is very handy since I'm going to ask a big favor."

I crossed my arms under my head. "I'm going to hate this."

"Probably. But I'm going to call in a few of those markers."

I peeked out from my stacked arms. "What markers?"

"Saving your ass from the migraine in the rain."

I growled. "Wouldn't that be working against the gouged letters in my truck door?"

"It could be. But I'm going to make your house beautiful, so that should count for most of that." She reached out to stroke the cat on my back which activated a low, rumbling purr. "I rescued Gizmo from a job site. He was in tough shape, malnourished, the whole bit. Problem is, this building doesn't allow pets—even cats."

Barely, I resisted the urge to say so what?

That wasn't what she needed right at that moment, and I'd disappointed her enough lately.

"I can't really give him up. And I'm certainly not moving any time soon."

"Oh, hell, no."

"He loves you. And he isn't much trouble. I promise."

"If he's not much trouble, then why did you have all that construction in your apartment? I somehow think that was his fault."

"Okay, so he's a little trouble. But it's just because he loves running water."

"That's great."

"Handily, the mansion doesn't have any running water right now."

"Yeah, but people will be coming in and out all day."

"True. But I think he'd be happy in..."

"No." I sat up and Gizmo dug in his claws until he finally jumped off me and onto the coffee table, then he sailed into her arms.

She gave him a long stroke down to his tail. "You don't know what I was going to say."

I grabbed my shirt and pulled it on. "You're going to say Harriette's room."

"No, but that is a good idea. She'd probably like the company."

"Absolutely not."

She sighed. "He'd be good in the tower room. There's plenty of room for him, and tons of windows to look out. I'd take care of all the cat things like food and litter. You'd barely know he was there."

"Hellcat. What if he got out? Then I'd have to listen to you for seven days and seven-hundred hours that he got away."

"Probably fourteen thousand actually."

I sighed. "Don't you think there's a better place for him?"

"No. I've tried everyone I know, and I just can't bring him to the shelter. They're overrun with strays already." She drew the cat up to her neck and stroked under his chin. "I can't do that to him."

I clasped my hands together between my legs. I was going to regret this, but there was no way I could let a defenseless animal get hurt. Especially when he looked like the cat I'd tried to keep as a kid. Until my shithead father had found him in my room and let him out because he'd been too high to know what the hell he was doing.

The memory sideswiped me. I hadn't thought of Freddy in a damn long time.

"Gizmo is a sweetheart. He just likes to climb on things."

" And the running water."

Her cheeks pinked up. "Yeah, he really does love that for some reason."

The black and white cat squirmed free and jumped down to wind around my ankles before climbing up my leg. " Ow ."

"I need to clip his nails."

I picked up the cat and held him in front of my face. "How much trouble are you going to give me day to day, huh?"

Gizmo patted my face and just blinked at me.

Hell.

I curled him into my chest. "I don't suppose you have a carrier?"

"I do." She popped up and about killed me when the robe opened to flash her entire thigh at me. "I have food and all the things. You know what? I'll just help you set up."

I collapsed back against the cushion, and the cat inched up my chest to tuck himself under my chin.

Promptly, he fell asleep.

I was so very screwed.