Chapter 14

Willow

Before I can respond, he tears open the door that I stupidly had unlocked, pushing me aside prior to slamming it shut and locking it like I should have.

"What the hell are you doing, Dallas? This is breaking and entering!" I shriek as his broad frame towers over me, drenched from head to toe.

He narrows his gaze at me before closing the distance between us, worry and frustration wafting off him. "I'm making sure you're safe, Willow. Because if something were to happen to you, and I fucking walked away, I would never forgive myself." He points a finger at his chest. "I've lost too many people in my life because of shitty circumstances and instances where there was nothing I could do. But this? This I can protect you from."

Rearing back, I'm caught off guard by the command in his voice and the clear worry in his eyes. But something tells me that pushing him away would only make him react more, so instead, I relent, even though my stomach is in knots just being in the same room as him again.

"Okay. Fine."

His jaw clenches like he was ready for a fight. "Wow. What a relief to see you can be reasonable."

"I'm fucking terrified right now. And even though you're the last person I wanted to see, I guess it's better than being left alone in this chaos."

He huffs, wiping water from his face. And at that moment, I take the opportunity to really take him in.

His dark hair is plastered to his forehead, drenched from the rain, dripping water all over his face and the floor. His signature black shirt and jeans are soaked as well, and his boots are squeaking as he takes steps toward the counter to drop off the bag of supplies he brought with him.

He came over with supplies.

For me.

He wanted to make sure I was safe.

This is exactly why resisting him has been such a feat. But after what I learned Saturday night, my reasons for staying away have multiplied exponentially. I guess the weather had other plans to make avoiding him even more difficult, though.

"Could you throw these in the dryer while we still have power, please?" he asks, yanking his jacket and shirt over his head in one smooth motion before I can respond.

And holy hell.

The man standing before me is rippled with muscle and sinew that I want nothing more than to paint with my tongue. His tan skin is glistening from his rain-soaked clothes, and then he turns to me, arching a brow as I stand there, shell-shocked, his hand outstretched with his clothes, waiting for me to speak. But all I can do is stare at the water droplets cascading down his chest, rolling over his nipple that I have an alarmingly strong urge to bite.

"Willow?"

"What?" I blink, clear my throat, and then rip the clothes from his hand. "Sure. Fine," I say as I walk away, trying to keep my dignity intact.

"You can come back and stare a bit more, if you want. I won't judge."

His self-induced laughter makes my blood boil again as I go down the short hallway off the kitchen to the laundry room, tossing his clothes in the dryer and turning it on, huffing out my frustration in solitude for a moment.

"Jackass," I mutter to myself.

"I heard that." Or, so I thought.

As if he appeared out of thin air, I spin to find Dallas blocking the doorway, watching me intently as I jump.

"Ugh. Are you just going to follow me around all night?"

"No. But I do need your help loading batteries into the flashlights, setting up candles, and putting away the food."

"Sure. Just give me a minute, okay?"

He rolls his eyes and leaves the doorway, somehow making it easier for me to breathe again. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

I walk back out to the main part of the house, trying not to stare too hard at his back, but when he turns to face me again with the packages of batteries, that's when I notice a detail about him I must have been too blind with rage and lust to detect sooner.

An anchor tattoo rests right over his left pec, etched in black and blue ink. There's an inscription on a banner across the symbol, but I can't quite make it out.

My eyes instantly veer over to the refrigerator magnet that Penn gave me my first week here, and somehow, the connection makes me smile.

"Are you going to help me or just continue to stare at me?"

Flicking my eyes up at him, I tear the package of batteries from his hands and take residence on the other side of the kitchen counter just as a loud crack of thunder booms above us, making me jump. "Jesus!"

Dallas looks outside before our phones start blaring with a high wind warning. "We should hurry. And then we need to go in your downstairs closet and take shelter."

"Why?"

"In case windows shatter or anything falls on the house. You're safer in an enclosed space."

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I whisper to myself.

We keep filling the three flashlights, small electric candles, and then I look at the food Dallas brought with him.

"I have some leftover sandwich stuff from the restaurant, so we need to eat those right away. Otherwise, I brought chips, beef jerky, protein bars, some apples and bananas, and of course, candy and bottled water."

"Why candy?"

His eyes narrow on me beneath his dark lashes. "I have a sweet tooth, and maybe some sugar will sweeten you up too."

I roll my eyes at him. "Ha. Very funny."

Another loud crack booms overhead. "Shit. I hate this." I can see my hands trembling in front of me as I grab the bag of food and take it to the closet.

"I'm right behind you. Do you have any extra blankets or pillows? Or even towels?"

"They're all in there. I don't have much, but we'll make do."

He juts his head in that direction. "Go inside. I'll be right there."

The entire house creaks from the wind as I scurry along the floor, reaching the closet and ducking inside the small door to go under the staircase. I set the food to the side on one of the shelves and then turn and find the blankets, unfolding them, as well as grabbing two spare pillows and covering them in cases, making the floor more comfortable. I'm lost in the task as Dallas steps in behind me, getting a full access view of me bending over in front of him.

Peering up at him between my legs, I say, "It's not polite to stare."

"I'm only returning the favor," he says with a smirk before I stand up and spin to face him. But I must have misjudged how much blood went to my head because I topple over, headed to smack my face on the shelving to my left.

However, Dallas catches me before I make contact. "Fuck. Are you okay?"

Holding my upper arms, he keeps me steady as I stare up at him, getting lost in his stormy brown eyes.

"Yes, I—I'm okay. Thanks."

He releases me hesitantly and I blow out a breath, turning around again to gather myself while cursing this storm and where it's landed me.

This is bad.

But he smells so good.

Jesus, shut up, Willow!

I take a seat at the head of the seating area I made and grab the food from the shelf, gesturing for him to take a seat right next to me.

"Uh, I'm still wet." He points down to his jeans.

"Oh. Well, I don't have anything that would fit you, so..."

He chuckles, and the sound instantly calms me a bit. His rare laugh is something I didn't know I needed in this moment. "I didn't think so."

"You could grab a towel from the bathroom next door if you want."

"Yeah, I think I will. I'll be right back."

Waiting for him to return, I sigh as I open the containers of food. The sandwiches are packed with turkey, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayo—a perfect club sandwich that I remember eating the other night and devouring, along with fries and onion rings.

"I knew I made the right call bringing the club."

Staring up at him as his voice alerts me to his return, I watch him run the towel through his hair, taking the moisture out of it before tossing it aside and placing the other one right next to me, situating it under himself as he sits.

"That was…" I look over at him, finally at a loss for words. "Thank you."

"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Willow," he says in a low voice, just above a whisper.

"You don't?" I sound comically shocked, his unexpected admission throwing me off.

"That's what I was trying to tell you Saturday night before you ran off." His words make the air around us shift.

Oh.

Oh.

Regret fills me as I look into his eyes and see the heated intensity I've noticed before.

Before Saturday, I was ready to stop fighting him too. I was ready to give into this attraction and physical need I feel every time he's near.

But then I discovered that explosive secret, the unlit stick of dynamite that will inevitably blow up both of our lives, especially after my unexpected visitor the other night.

Now I'm torn. Should I light the fuse while I can still try to contain the flames? Or do I foolishly explore this fire between us, hoping to stamp it out before anyone gets burned?

"I'm sorry." Staring down at my lap again, I pick up a piece of the sandwich and begin eating, trying to keep my mouth busy so I don't say something else I'll regret since that seems to be the norm around him.

Why is it that this man makes me feel unsteady, unsure of who I am and how I've been for so many years?

Maybe I was never sure of who I was in the first place.

"And I'm sorry." He blows out a breath before reaching for a piece of the sandwich as well. "You make me a little irrational, but I meant what I said in the park. I'm trying to get you to see that I'm more than just the asshole who wants your house."

I finish chewing and then reach for a bottle of water, twisting off the top as the storm picks up outside, rattling the walls. "My life would be so much simpler if I didn't inherit this house, Dallas, believe me. If I hadn't…"

"Then you wouldn't be here," he finishes for me, causing me to freeze and slowly gaze up at him again. "You would have never come to Carrington Cove, Willow. We wouldn't be at each other's throats, or in this closet together right now. And yeah, if you weren't here, it would be easier to get what I want, but it seems that has changed."

"What's changed?"

"What I want," he answers resolutely.

He takes my sandwich and his, places them back in the box, and pushes it out of the way before sliding closer to me, making my pulse pick up speed as I wonder what he's going to do next.

"This is a bad idea," I mutter, my skin practically vibrating from his proximity.

"How so?" He trails one finger up my forearm, making my breath hitch. A smatter of goosebumps breaks out all over my skin, but my eyes are firmly locked on his, waiting to see what happens next.

"I just…it's complicated, Dallas…this thing between us." I pull my arm away from his touch and wave my hand back and forth in the miniscule space between our bodies.

I swear I see his eyes darken. "It doesn't have to be. Why don't we just go by what we want and how we feel and forget all the rest for now?"

His solution sounds so simple, and yet it's almost as if I can see the future—the feelings that will undoubtedly develop and the torment they'll cause when he finds out the truth.

Feelings are messy, pesky little bastards.

It's why I avoid mine.

Doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that, Willow.

But then his fingertips brush the hair from my face, his thumb pulls down my bottom lip and glides down the column of my throat, and as his hand drifts over my collarbone and down my arm to grip my waist, I feel my entire body surrender to him, and my mind is too slow to protest.

I want him.

I shouldn't.

But I do.

And I'm so very tired of fighting it.

"Fuck it." Before my mind can catch up and talk me out of it, I grip the back of his head and pull him toward me, smashing our lips together, the growl that travels up his throat spurring me on.

It feels as if this kiss erases everything—the bickering, the arguments, the jokes and low blows, and even the eminent truth hovering over us like the storm.

But its promise is also raging like the storm outside—wild passion, intense pressure, and rapid release of the torment we've both been under since I got here.

Dallas wastes no time taking control of the kiss, stroking his tongue against mine, burying his hands in my hair, crushing me to his chest and refusing to let me go. It's like he's claiming me with this one kiss, and I want him to own every part of me until there's nothing left.

I surrender willingly, practically climbing up his body, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his lips and tongue for every stroke, feeling like I can't taste enough of him.

Dallas groans as I straddle his lap and rub my pussy along his crotch, run my fingers through his damp tresses, and claw at his shoulders.

We continue to maul each other for who knows how long before he finally releases my lips and stares into my eyes, each of us fighting for air.

"Willow…" Thunder cracks again and a loud crash echoes outside, making me jump in his lap. "It's okay. I've got you." He wraps his arms around me, holding me to his bare chest as I rest my forehead on his shoulder and catch my breath, both from the kiss and the scare.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry I was stubborn about letting you in, but now I'm really glad that you're here, Dallas," I mumble against his shoulder.

I feel his lips hit my temple. "Me too, Goose."

I outwardly smile at the nickname for the first time. "So, what happens now?" I lift my head to find him staring at me, his stormy eyes from before warmer now somehow, brighter and almost ethereal.

"We wait out the storm. Finish our dinner. Kiss some more." He reaches up and toys with my bottom lip again with his thumb. "Definitely more kissing."

I can't help it—I giggle at his words, burying my face in his neck.

"Don't get shy on me now, Willow. I'm pretty sure you're the one that kissed me first."

"I did not," I say, popping my head back up.

"Oh, yes you did, Goose." I glare at him as he tucks my hair behind my ear. "But that's okay. If you hadn't made the first move, I would have."

Locking my eyes on his, I say with trepidation, "This changes everything, Dallas."

"You changed everything the night you walked into my bar, Willow. I was just too stupid to admit it."

Thunder booms above us, rattling the windows and making me flinch, even though I'm still in his arms.

His hand draws smooth circles on my back. "Relax, Goose."

Please don't let me go.

"The worst of the storm is hitting now, according to the weather report. It should calm down around three in the morning."

Feeling my pulse in my ears, I say, "Then I need you to distract me."

He lifts my chin so our eyes connect. "Distract you?"

"I'm sure you can think of something," I say suggestively as tension builds between us again, that sweet sexual tension that has been there since the night we met.

The corner of his mouth lifts. "Yeah, I think I have something in mind." Before I can say a word, he continues, "Lie back." Keeping my eyes on his, I follow his command, climbing out of his lap and crawling backward until I feel the wall behind me. Dallas situates a pillow behind my head and grabs both of my legs, yanking me down so my back is flat.

"Jesus!"

"Don't worry. You'll be talking to God soon, but I need you to remember that I'm the one who's about to make you scream." I roll my eyes but don't have much time to think when Dallas starts peeling my leggings down. "Now's the time to back out if you don't want this, Willow."

I swallow down the lump in my throat and nod. "I want this."

God, do I want this.

Ever since I laid eyes on this man, I've been fantasizing about what his mouth would feel like on me, how his touch would ignite my body.

That was before you found out who his dad was, though.

I shove my subconscious out of the way and decide to deal with that another time. I'm pretty sure that fallout is inevitable, so why not enjoy the ride on the way down, right?

"Thank fuck." He tosses my leggings to the side and then drops his head to my pussy, situating himself between my legs while inhaling my scent. "When's the last time you've been truly worshipped, Willow?" he mumbles against my inner thigh.

I swallow hard as my pulse races. "Never," I admit embarrassingly.

"Well then, I have one hell of an impression to make on you so no other man gets the opportunity."

Holy shit.

Smirking up at me, he drags his finger through my slit over the silk of my thong, the silk that is soaked with my arousal from just being near this man for the past half hour.

And then he peels the fabric to the side, baring me to him. Licking his lips, he kisses the inside of my right thigh, then the left, getting closer and closer to where I'm exposed but not touching the part of me where I need him.

"Dallas," I groan as he chuckles darkly between my thighs.

"Patience, Willow."

"I don't have any," I groan in agony.

"Well, you're going to find some real quick if you don't want me to stop."

He hooks his thumb under the string on my hips, pulling my thong from my body, tossing it on top of my leggings, and then he ever so gently drags the tip of his tongue through my slit as I let out an embarrassing moan.

"Fuck, this pussy is perfect."

I push myself up on my elbows and watch the man gently tease me with his tongue, drawing light circles around my clit while his eyes are locked on mine.

"Don't stop." I clutch onto the hair on the top of his head, relishing in the feeling of his mouth. "More…"

"More what?" he mumbles against me.

"More pressure."

He grins. "That's not what I meant." He stops his movements completely, drawing his head away.

"What are you doing?"

With an arch of his brow, he says, "You're forgetting the magic word, Willow."

I glare at him, biting my cheek to keep from screaming. "You and your manners."

"I told you. Manners go a long way."

"How about now, Dallas?" I say through clenched teeth, desperation laced in every word.

My body is practically vibrating with need and this man insists on trying to give me a lecture right now?

The smile drops from his face. "Your commands might work in other aspects of your life, Willow, but when I'm the one touching your pussy, I'm in control." Why is the way he's talking to me right now making me even hotter? "Now, do you want to come?"

Tipping my head back, I groan in frustration. "Yes!"

"Then how do you ask?"

Against all of my willpower, I grate through my teeth, "Please."

"Good girl. Now cover my face with your cum."

That's when the feminism leaves my body, my desire for control snaps, and I nearly launch from the floor as Dallas feasts on my pussy like a man starved, working my bundle of nerves with his tongue like he's on a top-secret mission and I'm the one with all of the answers that he needs.

I dig my hand in his thick, black hair, watching him eat me, squirming under his command. "Oh, God…yes…"

"God can't help you right now, Willow. You wanted this, remember?" he murmurs between licks.

I shamelessly begin to ride his face. "Yes. Shit." I bite my bottom lip. "Right there…"

He slides a finger inside me and I nearly come apart, his touch so precise as he curls his finger, stroking that magical spot that no other man has ever reached.

"Squeeze my fingers, Willow," he mumbles against me as he slides another finger in, continuing with that same curling motion. "Clench that pussy." I do as he says, tightening around his fingers as he works me higher and higher. "Fuck, that's it." He watches his fingers slide in and out of me, the sight beyond erotic. "God, I can't wait for you to squeeze my cock."

Dallas puts his tongue back on my clit, taking me higher and higher, playing my body like an expert. His movements are calculated, smooth, and sharp at the same time, like he's trying to learn my body—like he's worshipping me just as he said he would.

He reaches up to my chest with his free hand, caressing my breast, pinching my nipple through my bra before dragging his hand down my stomach, teasing my skin with his fingers before he moves back to my chest.

And then he drags his thumb down my bottom lip, making eye contact while his mouth stays on my pussy, so I suck his thumb into my mouth, moaning as I feel my orgasm bloom.

"Dallas…I'm almost there…" I breathe out shamelessly when he takes his hand back, squeezing my hip now, keeping me in place while feeling like I'm about to break out of my skin.

"Come for me, Willow. Fall apart for me, sweetheart."

And those words are all it takes as with one final stroke, my orgasm detonates, sending me catapulting off a cliff. I moan and suck in air as I convulse, my animalistic sounds echoing off the walls of the small closet until the final wave subsides and I collapse back onto the pillow, out of breath.

"Oh my God," I breathe out, eyes still closed, legs open, still exposed but too spent to care.

Dallas kisses the inside of my thigh, sucks my arousal from his fingers, and then grabs a blanket, pulling it over me. I vaguely recall the sound of a zipper and then peek to see him taking off his pants, throwing them in the same pile as my leggings.

When he catches me staring, he says, "Don't worry. We're not going there tonight, but I can't sleep in wet jeans."

"Dallas, that was…"

He crawls over to me, propping himself up on his elbow, peering down at me as I take in his entire physique.

The man looks like he's photoshopped.

And then I see the bulge in his briefs.

Yeah, there's no way that's gonna fit inside me.

But he's so hard that it looks painful.

I reach out to touch him, wanting to return the favor, desperately wanting to make him feel as good as he made me feel just now, but he stops my hand before I make contact.

"Not tonight." He shakes his head slowly.

"But…"

"Tonight was about you." He taps his finger to my nose.

My brows draw together. "That doesn't seem fair."

"Trust me, I'm excellent. I have your scent in my beard and your taste on my tongue. I'm plenty satisfied for right now. They'll be time for you to repay me later." I roll my eyes but he leans forward and kisses me, my taste lingering on his lips too. "Now, let's try to get some sleep."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to," I retort as a yawn escapes my lips. It seems like that orgasm did its job of helping me relax, but the sound of the wind whipping outside and the imminent threat of destruction to my house is sure to keep me up all night.

"I think you'll be just fine." He reaches out to brush my hair from my face as I close my eyes, and that's the last thing I remember until we wake up hours later, the aftermath of our hook-up more evident in the light of day.