Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

DASH

I’m not prepared for this. I’m not prepared for her.

Did I think this was going to be easy? Taking this enticing young girl under my wing and keeping her safe? I’ve never had to look after another person, save myself, in my entire depraved life. I’ve had her for two nights—two nights—and I’ve already fucked up. Fucked up doesn’t even begin to describe what almost happened back at the motel. My actions, my lack of caution, almost got my sweet girl brutalized in a filthy concrete stairwell. She deserves to be petted and spoiled on a bed of satin, and they’d slapped her pretty face. And Christ, I’m no better than those animals, am I? I popped her cherry in the dirt and didn’t even bother with protection.

Wrath and fear have made my neck muscles so tense, I can barely turn my head as I check the rearview mirror. Same as I did last night. Wasn’t I careful? More careful than I’ve ever been in the past? Yeah. I doubled back three times, picked a motel off the beaten track, paid with cash, and left Babette in the car when I secured the room. I did everything to keep her safe…and it hadn’t been enough.

I’mnot enough. I’m not equipped to give her a good, safe existence on the road. Staying with me could get her killed. Sure, this morning I woke up in time to rescue her, but what if a mark tries again and succeeds?

My hands almost rip off the steering wheel thinking about it. I’m growling. I hear myself growling and know I have to be scaring Babette, but I can’t control myself. They put their filthy hands on her. They touched what’s mine.

But she can’t be mine. Not anymore. I knew it the moment I stepped into the stairwell and saw where this dangerous life with me had already landed her. In harm’s way. Crying and accepting what was about to happen. Maybe even accepting her own demise. That’s what I’d seen on her face. Resignation.

Jesus Christ, if I ever see her looking that way again, I’ll go permanently insane. Hell, I’m on the borderline right now, one tiny incident away from crossing the line. If someone checked her out right now at a truck stop or gas station, I don’t know what I’d do. My bare hands are controlled by a possessive instinct so deep, my brain is no longer the decision maker.

That’s how I know. I’m not good for her. This life isn’t good for a good girl with a pretty smile, innocence in her every movement. If I keep her—and God knows how badly I want to—I could kill her. If not literally, at least in spirit. I was a bastard to take her away from such a loving environment in the first place. But I know what I have to do now. I have to set her free. The way I feel about this girl…I can’t do anything but what’s best for her. What’s best for her safety.

“I’m taking you home,” I croak, digging my fingertips into the steering wheel. “We’re heading back to Texas.”

Babette shoots forward in her seat with a half-sob, half-gasp that tears me down the middle. “No, Dash. I-I…you can’t. Please.”

Forcing my features to remain stoic, I respond firmly. “It ain’t up for debate, little girl. You’re not cut out for this.” She shrinks a little, and I hate myself. More than I have all along, and that’s saying something. “That singing voice of yours swayed me, but I knew up front. Knew it the second you walked in looking like a newborn baby deer.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her hands wring themselves in her lap. This poor girl who’s had the worst morning of her life. And I’m too amped out of mind to even comfort her the way she deserves. If that doesn’t prove I’m a million kinds of wrong for the job of her caretaker, nothing will. “I am cut out for it,” she insists, her voice wobbling a bit until she controls it. “They asked me to lead them to you…and I didn’t. I didn’t tell them where you were, Dash. Said you wouldn’t be back for days. Didn’t I do the right thing by you? Didn’t I?”

My vision goes black, my lungs seizing. All of it happens so fast, I can do nothing but steer off the road onto the shoulder and throw the car into park. Gnarled fingers are digging into my neck, trying to rip out my vocal chords. “You could have come and found me, Babs?” I reach across the console and shake her. “Please. Please don’t tell me you were going to sacrifice yourself like that. I don’t think I can bear it, baby. Goddammit.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of them hurting you or worse. Not because of me. Anything but that.” Tears try to fall from her eyes, but she seems desperate to contain them, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I just wanted to be a good partner. I wanted to prove I could—”

“Stop. Stop.” This is agony. This is bone-deep misery in its purest form. “How I managed to earn that kind of blind loyalty from you, Babs, I don’t know. But I do know I don’t deserve it.” My teeth are gnashing so hard, my brain hurts. “God, baby. If I’d come a minute later—”

Babette interrupts me by clambering over the console to straddle my lap. As if my body wants to remind me I’m an irredeemable son of a bitch, my cock goes rock hard. Hell, she’s wearing nothing but panties and a ripped tee, and my jeans are still unfastened. I’m not even wearing a shirt. Couple of clothing shifts and we’d be fucking, but I can’t do that. I shouldn’t even be breathing the same air as her. “Dash,” she whispers, stroking the sides of my face. “You came in time. Everything is fine now.” She scoots closer on my lap, planting kisses all over my face. “See? It’s like it never happened.”

“It happened and I’m responsible.” I shake my head, even as I absorb every brush of her mouth like a greedy man. “I’m taking you home, Babs. There’s no changing my mind.” She starts to protest, so I shut her down. Cold. I have no choice. Her incredible green eyes will sway my path if I allow them the opportunity. And I won’t sacrifice her safety. Never again. “You’re a liability to me. I can’t do my job if I’m worrying about saving your ass every goddamn minute. You’re too young and too green. You could get yourself killed and me in the process, you understand?”

For a moment, I think she sees right through my bullshit. I don’t give a damn about my own hide. It’s only Babette’s I care about, so me getting killed is the last thing on my mind. Instead of calling me on being a lying idiot, though, she only nods.

“Okay, Dash,” she whispers. “I understand. I don’t want to hold you back.” There’s an awful detonation in my chest and I’m about to start gasping for air when she places her soft lips on mine, pausing the world around me. “Will you make love to me one more time before you take me home?”

*     *     *

BABETTE

I need Dashone more time. When I go back to my nightmare, I want a good dream to hold on to. Someday, I’ll find another way to get out of my stepfather’s house. I will. If I have to beg, borrow or steal—like Dash taught me—I’ll survive. Singing could be my ticket. I just need to regroup and figure out how to use it by myself, without a partner. Please God, let me land on my feet. This taste of freedom has already addicted me, and I can’t give it up forever.

Dash has made his decision, and I won’t fight him on it. I won’t whine or be a crybaby. No way. I won’t let him remember me that way.

This. This is how I want to be remembered. The girl he made a woman sliding up and back on his lap, paying no heed to the cars that pass by, every twenty seconds or so. If I don’t have this hot, heady feeling to grasp on to, I might be tempted to plead and bargain, only to be shot down. What little pride I have left can’t handle another rejection. So I throw myself into riding that long, plump column of flesh between his legs, my temperature rising every time he moans.

“Not even inside that pretty redhead pussy yet and I already need to come.” With a hiss of breath, he slides his hands around back and grips my bottom cheeks, using his hold to guide me, show me the rhythm he wants. “Only been fucked once and you already move like you were made for riding cock. Like you love having it inside you, big and dripping.” Eyes glittering, he takes my jaw and holds it tight. “It’s Daddy’s cock you love, isn’t that right, little girl?”

A shudder ripples through me, that naughty, once-unknown part of me lighting up. “Yes.”

His fingers trail through the split of my backside, one rough finger sinking into the slit of my pussy from behind. Pumping, Bringing my natural moisture in and out with it. “Never going to have one this sweet again,” he grits out. “It doesn’t exist. Not even going to bother looking. Just going to drive myself mad remembering this slick, young hole and how rough you let Daddy fuck it.”

Those intimate muscles, still sore from yesterday, clench so hard around Dash’s finger, I whimper with no shame. “I want it. I need it.”

“Yeah?” He’s lost that cold distance in his eyes. There’s nothing but scorching heat pouring out of him now. His blue eyes are like flames, his voice a determined rasp, his finger juicing in and out of me faster, faster. “You want me to bang your cute little ass up against the steering wheel?”

“I-I…” My muscles seize, a notch tightening in the center of my waist…hotter, fuller…until the orgasm takes me by surprise, ripping my senses to shreds. “DashDashDashDash.”

“Good girl. Keep saying my name while I work my dick in.” He lifts his hips, reaching into his unfastened pants to present his enormous cock with a pained growl. “Was going to wait a couple of days to fuck you again, baby. Was going to show you it wasn’t just this pussy I was after. You believe me?”

“I believe you,” I gasp, going up on my knees, feeling him get in position with the head of his erection at my sorest spot. “Of course, I do.”

Dash pushes in the top couple inches, then grabs my hips and yanks me down, roaring loud enough to hurt my eardrums. “Ah shit. Ah fuck.” He heaves a broken shout, smashing his fists against the ceiling. “God was laughing when he designed you, baby. This is my punishment right here. Having this beautiful, tight little thing ride my cock, then have to give her up. Dammit to hell.”

He winds his hands in my hair and tugs me close to his face.

“That ain’t it, though. Going to miss that smile same as I’ll miss this pussy, won’t I? Miss your sweet breath and nervous hands. That voice. Jesus, that voice. I won’t get through a day without hearing it.”

My chest is going to explode. “Then keep me,” I let slip out.

“Can’t,” he rasps, pinning me back against the steering wheel. “Can’t, baby. Can’t let your light go out on account of me.”

I tried. I did. But now I’m just giving myself over to the rising need to please. Otherwise I’ll break down, and I refuse to do that. Refuse to focus on anything but the powerful man beneath me and the hot, smooth flesh pulsing inside me. One last time. Planting my hands on his shoulders, I buck my hips like I think I’m supposed to in this position. Satisfaction and pride rocket through me a second later when Dash looks to be hanging on by a thread, his nostrils flaring, sweat beading on his face. It gives me the confidence to roll my hips with broader strokes, circling my lower body, throwing my head back so he’ll look at my breasts.

“Sweet Christ, baby, you’re riding that dick so goddamn good.” Cars whiz past outside, but I barely notice, totally zoned in on the connection of our bodies, the ticklish quickening just beneath my belly button. Dash’s hands urging my bottom to move faster, squeezing the flesh so hard I won’t sit comfortably for days. Then his hips start pumping along with mine, nailing me up into the steering wheel, my backside smacking the hard leather, teeth rattling. “Fucks like a slut, feels like a virgin, don’t she?” His growl rings in my ears. “My fucking God. Ain’t nothing like you. Nothing.”

Atoms begin to split in the air around me, sensation rushing up into my throat, then racing back down to expand south of my belly, tightening, clenching. “Ohhhh. Dash, oh God.”

One hand continues to abuse the flesh of my backside, the other grabbing my jaw and holding my face steady for his hard, wet kiss. “Grind down on it, little girl. Suck Daddy dry.”

As if he needs to tell me. My clit is demanding friction, and I rock, rock, grind against the base of his erection, listening to his broken groans in my ear, drawing out my orgasm until I think it’ll never end. And that’s fine with me, because maybe this wouldn’t be over. Maybe he wouldn’t take me home.

But when Dash pulls out and jerks streams of white on my belly and breasts a moment later, shouting my name, his big body juddering, I know what it means. He’s afraid to get me pregnant and leave me. His gaze is apologetic and haunted as he leans close to my face, trying to control his breathing. “I’ll be checking in to make sure I didn’t get a baby in you, Babs. You won’t know I’m there, but I’ll be checking.” The slow, desperate kiss he gives me has heat pressing in behind my eyes. “If you’re carrying my child in your belly, I’ll send you half of what I make, now until the end of time. You hear me?” He shakes me. “Do you?”

“Yes, Dash.” I climb back into my seat and fix my ruined clothes, stopping once in a while to cram my fist against my mouth to keep a sob from escaping. “I hear you.”