“So you like rough sex. I do, too.” I toss my hands in the air. “It doesn’t mean you’re like your father.”
“We both know it’s more than rough sex.” His eyes cut to mine. “I want to hurt you. I want to violate you. I want to hurt you the same way I grew up watching him hurt my mother.” He turns away again and his back heaves. “The same way he was hurting my baby fucking sister.”
“No,” I say firmly. “It wasn’t your fault, Dylan. Your father was evil. But you aren’t him. You got your sister out.”
“Years too late!” he shouts again and I can’t help flinching back. He sees it and there’s remorse in his eyes. But then he hardens himself again. Like he thinks it’s good if he scares me away.
Oh Dylan.
He doesn’t know it, but I’ve looked into the face of evil, and he’s not it. How many years has he torn himself up about failing to help his sister sooner? Real evil feels no remorse. It has no empathy, or love, or compassion.
Real evil is Bryce Gentry, laughing with his friends after they all fucked me till I bled, leaving me broken on the floor.
Dylan Lennox is not evil.
He told me this story tonight to try to push me away but it’s only done the opposite. I see him so much more clearly now. I see the little boy growing up in that horrible, violent household. I think about how scared he must have been but still he tried to be a good big brother, shielding his brother and sister as best he could.
His whole life he grew up in that role—the protector. And then to find out his sister had been hurt so terribly, of course it would feel like failure to him at the deepest level. To him, he’d failed at his most basic job, the one he’d been doing since he was a child.
I wrap my arms around him from behind and though he flinches, he doesn’t pull away.
“Miranda—” he starts but I cut him off.
“Shhhhh.”
His shoulders slump and I press the side of my face to his spine. He’s carried this burden for so long. So many years the guilt has weighed him down. Guilt for someone else’s sins.
“Come with me.”
I reach around and take his hand. It’s limp in mine but when I tug, he follows.
He pauses on the threshold of the bathroom, though.
“Miranda, you should tell me to go.”
I just shake my head and pull him into the bathroom with me. I start running the bath and then turn back to him, tugging his shirt up and off over his head. I have to go up on my tiptoes, he’s so tall, but I finally get it off.
He watches me silently as I pull his boxer briefs down and then take off my own shirt and underwear.
I don’t miss the way his cock stiffens and I raise an eyebrow and just shake my head. I have no idea how he’s always so ready to go. I swear his cock defies nature.
But right now isn’t about sex. I take his hand and draw him toward the bath. He steps in and sits down. I get in, too, settling down in the tub behind him, his body between my legs in a reverse position of the last time we took a bath together.
I wrap my arms around him from behind and urge him to lay his head back against my breasts. As I turn on the jets, I feel the tension leave his body.
That’s right, baby. Give it all up to me.
“Close your eyes,” I murmur.
I look over his shoulder and see that he’s obeyed. Then I reach for the large plastic cup I keep on the corner lip of the tub and fill it up, then pour the water over his head. It streams down his face and his mouth opens as he gasps in surprise.
“Sorry, should have warned you.”
“No,” he says. “It’s nice.”
I dip the cup and pour another steaming waterfall over his head. I swear he relaxes even more against me.
“Are you baptizing me?”
His sleepy question makes me smile. I was just planning to wash his hair but I like his explanation even more.
“Yes. From now on, you’re made new.” I run my fingers through the damp hair on his chest. “The past can’t hurt you anymore,” I whisper.
He grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers.
“I meant what I said before.” His eyes are still closed but his grip tightens. “I can’t stay away. The only way to be rid of me is to tell me to go.”
I shake my head even though he can’t see it and wrap my legs around his waist from behind, along with the one arm he isn’t already holding.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
He groans. “Jesus, I want to fuck you again, but I’m so tired.”
I laugh. “You always want to fuck me. But I’ll be here tomorrow.” I kiss the back of his head. “And the day after that.” I kiss him again, this time on his neck. “And the day after that.” Kiss. “And the day after that.”
He growls. “You better be.”
And then, tired or not, he turns us around in the tub and pulls me on top of him.
Chapter Ten
MIRANDA
The past few weeks have been the happiest of my life.
Are people allowed to be this happy?
I don’t think so. Which is probably why, every second I’m not busy being happy, I’m absolutely terrified.
I’ve never thought of myself as an especially superstitious person, but all the sudden I’m obsessively looking for signs and omens.
Like, I find myself running odds all the time. Daniel just broke up with his Domme of three months, so that means my relationship with Dylan has a better chance of working out, right? Because how likely was it that we’d both find our ones at the same time?
Which is really bitchy and horrible of me, but there it is.
But I really feel like Dylan is it. The guy. The one, like I used to always roll my eyes when people talked about.
I swear though, we fit like puzzle pieces. He gives where I need to take and I think I do the same for him.
Both emotionally and physically. I mean physically, holy shit. I didn’t know this kind of chemistry was even possible. We spent all weekend together after that night at the club. We barely even got out of bed, and when we did, it was mainly just to eat or bathe… which usually just led to more fucking. Sometimes with rough play and forced scenarios, sometimes not.
Last week I texted him letting him know I’d be waiting in a unisex bathroom of a gas station just off the highway at a particular time and, God, my face heats just at the thought of it as I walk with Daniel downtown to get sushi for lunch.
“So I take it things are still good with Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy?” Daniel asks, bumping my shoulder with his as we walk together.
I blush hotter and Daniel laughs. “It’s fine. You can talk about him. Jesus, I seriously need to get out of my own head and drama for a while. So regale me!”
I frown sympathetically and reach out to squeeze Daniel’s upper arm. “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out with Irina, hon.”
He shrugs and looks down at the sidewalk. “It’s fine. Her life’s too busy and I’m too high-maintenance. It’s better it ended now instead of getting dragged out.”
I want to press more because I can tell he’s hurting but I also know from experience that Daniel shies away from opening up about his feelings—at least without getting him shitfaced first. We’ve had our deepest conversations when he’s just hovering at the puke-his-guts-up line of drunkeness. Then he always claims he doesn’t remember anything we talked about the next day, even though he’s slipped up and referenced things from the conversations later.
To say Daniel is a little emotionally stunted is an understatement. I keep hoping he’ll find a partner who can reach him where I can’t. Obviously I don’t want him drinking all the time just to be able to have real conversations about what’s going on in his life.
We get to the restaurant and getting seated and ordering distracts me from worrying about him. As soon as we’re settled, though, I drop the bomb that’s been weighing on me.
“Dylan invited me over to their family estate to meet his b
rother. The brother who is the only member of his family he currently speaks to, so it’s sort of a big deal. He talks about Darren all the time and I know he’s really important to him.”
“Ooo,” Daniel crows, eyebrows up. “Meeting the family. This is getting serious. Are you going to take him back to Ohio for Christmas?”
“Shut up, I’m being serious.” I smack him with my cloth napkin and he jerks back, laughing.
“So was I,” he says. “Come on, Mira, when was the last time you’ve been this excited about a guy?”
That question shuts me up and I look down at my hands in my lap. Daniel sits back in his booth seat. “Oh shit. Not since…” He doesn’t finish his thought. He doesn’t have to. He knows all about my sordid past with Bryce Gentry. The things that were done to me. The things I did. He’s the only person who knows all of it.
“Did you tell him yet?”
I shake my head. “How could I? I was going to but then he made this big confession to me the other night and it just…” I trail off and take a deep breath. “It wasn’t the kind of thing you could follow up with an, oh by the way, that guy who fucked you over that one time while you were going through all that horrible shit you just confessed to me? Yeah, he’s my ex.”
I drop my head into my hands. “I just haven’t found a way to slip it naturally into conversation.”
Daniel just shakes his head. “Mira, this isn’t like you. You usually charge head first into difficult shit. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me? Just talk to my Dommes about my tendencies so we can work through it together?”
“And how’s that going for you?” I snap and then immediately feel terrible.
“I’m sorry.” My hand shoots out to grab Daniel’s across the table and he shrugs it off like it’s fine even though I can see that it’s not.
“Shit, Daniel, I’m a world class bitch. I’m sorry. I just feel so guilty every day I don’t tell him. I know I should confess the real reason I pushed so hard on getting to know him…”
What would Dylan say if I admitted I sought him out and kept pursuing him because of our mutual past connections to Bryce Gentry? Would he ever be able to look at me the same ever again? If he knew just how far I’d debased myself for Bryce, how much of myself I gave away and lost forever because of that man…
I purse my lips, fighting for control of my emotions. “I’ve just never had anything like me and Dylan before. It’s the best I’ve ever felt. About life. About myself. But it feels like… I don’t know, like my happiness is a house of cards that could come crashing down any second.”
“Damn girl, what are they putting in this sake today?” Daniel holds up the small cup he ordered. “You’re all poetic and shit, and it’s only,” he looks at his wrist, where of course there’s no watch, and then fumbles in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “And it’s only one-thirty on a Thursday afternoon.”
I take my cup and clink it with his. This has been our tradition ever since we were broke kids fresh out of college looking for jobs in the big city.
“So you’re going to meet the family which means it’s getting intense,” he sums up, “but you’re also keeping secrets from him.”
I drop my forehead on the table. “I’m an idiot. I know I’m an idiot. This is all going to blow up in my face isn’t it? That’s what always happens in the movies.”
“So tell him,” Daniel says. “Or don’t. Who the fuck am I to be giving relationship advice?” He throws up his hands. “It just sounds like you two are getting hella intense hella fast.”
“Is that bad?” I ask, lifting my head. “I really, really like him.”
Daniel smiles and it softens the hard lines of his handsome face. “I know. It’s good seeing you so happy. The whole time you were with that Chad guy—”
“Chet.”
“The whole time you were with him you looked like Barbie. Beautiful but like, made of plastic. With a painted-on smile.” He points with two fingers. “And dead eyes.”
I’m not surprised Daniel saw what no one else could—how unhappy I was with Chet.
“I want you to meet him,” I say. “Dylan. I’m meeting his family and I want him to meet mine.”
Daniel arches an eyebrow as our sushi arrives. “You’re willing to put him through the Daniel test? Already? This really is serious. You haven’t brought a guy to meet me that’s ever passed.”
I smile with a goofy sigh. “That’s because you haven’t met Dylan yet.”
Chapter Eleven
DYLAN
I frown as I look over the table set up. “Are you sure it’s perfect? I want it to be perfect.”
Darren laughs as he claps me on the back. “Jesus, calm your shit, big bro. You got catering for a meal for only three people. And it’s the best in the city. I’m pretty sure she’ll be impressed.”
I shrug off his hand and narrow my eyes at him. “Are you taking this seriously? You better be taking this seriously. This girl is important to me. I want the full Darren Lennox charm offense. No half-assing it today, okay?”
Darren rolls his eyes as he drags out a chair and sits down at the table. He loosely holds up a hand. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Scouts honor. Martha won’t leave this house until she’s fully charmed.”
“Miranda!”
He laughs and slaps the table. “This shit is too easy. Lighten up, man.”
“Jesus Christ,” I swear, shaking my head and heading back to the kitchen to double check the food is perfect. I don’t know why I’m so goddamned nervous. Darren is the only one I have left apart from Chloe and I just—
I breathe out before going into the kitchen, stopping myself from pushing through the door. I’ve been hovering over the catering staff like a bear ever since they got here an hour ago. I’m sure the food is fine. They’re professionals.
I just want everything to be perfect.
The past three weeks with Miranda have been… I can’t even wrap my head around it. We’ve spent almost every night together, either at my apartment or her house. I’ve never had so much sex in my entire life, even when I was a horny kid in my twenties. Rediscovering sex has been, just… and sex with Miranda, Jesus—
No words. No fucking words can do it justice.
During the day I’m constantly thinking of her. But even though I’m getting less sleep than usual, somehow I have more energy than I have in years. For the first time in I can’t remember when, I’m passionate again about the product line—the designs of the new robotics boards themselves, but also the business side.
Before Miranda, Darren was the best part of my life. He’s the one thing I didn’t fuck up. I protected him from Dad and though he had some wild days in college at Stanford, Darren’s turned out to be a really good guy. In spite of me, really, because there were times I was the bad influence before I got my shit together. Fuck but I couldn’t be prouder of him.
The echoing doorbell jolts me out of my thoughts.
She’s here.
I freeze for a second before jumping into action.
Darren moves to stand up but I’m already jogging into the foyer to the door. I pause before opening it to look back at him. He followed and is standing in the hallway.
“The full Darren charm offensive,” I order one last time before taking a deep breath and opening the door.
It’s good I took that deep breath because Miranda looks show-stoppingly gorgeous today. And it’s not the outfit. She’s just wearing a modest knee length skirt and a white blouse. But Miranda, I swear she fucking radiates.
Her smile is so bright when she sees me that it’s like the damn sun coming out.
I lean forward and brush a kiss across her cheek. Even the brief contact is enough to stir my blood. I swallow a groan. My dick’s gotten used to seeing her and automatically fucking her.
It’s Pavlovian at this point. Seeing Miranda equates clothes immediately coming off, followed by me burying my cock as deep inside her as possible. It’s like the first thing I ha
ve to do after even the shortest time apart is to reassure myself that she’s real and that she’s mine. By completely dominating her body. Repeatedly, if possible.
I move back but grab her hand, hoping my dick will get the message that this is just a social call. I don’t need to be popping wood in front of my brother for Christ’s sake.
I usher her into the house. “Miranda, this is my brother Darren. Darren, Miranda.”
She walks forward with a sunny smile, her hand out.
Darren forgoes the hand and hugs her.
“Dylan won’t stop going on about you,” Darren pulls back with a charismatic smile, “I swear I feel like I already know you.”
Miranda’s smile goes shy and she glances my way, but I can tell she’s pleased by the warm reception.
“Come in, come in,” Darren places a hand to the small of her back and guides her to the large, open dining room off the entry way. “We busted out the fancy china and silverware and everything.”
Miranda laughs as Darren leads her and pulls out her chair.
I can’t take my eyes off her as her eyes dart all around the room. What is she seeing? I spent a big part of my life hating this place. I didn’t come back here for years after I found Chloe like that…
It was only after Mom and Dad were both gone and Darren wanted to move in that I could cross the threshold again. Dare did the lion’s share of sorting and getting rid of Mom and Dad’s stuff. As guilty as I felt about not helping him with it, I just couldn’t. No, it was only after he renovated and redecorated that I could step foot back in this house.
And even with the new coat of paint and the wall between the old game room and the living room ripped out to open up the space downstairs, I’m still far too aware of all that went on underneath this roof.
A big part of me still wishes I’d gone with my gut and burned the whole thing to the ground.
But to Dare, I know being able to live on the family estate means something. He seemed surprised when I didn’t want to fight him over the deed after dad died. But I just sold him my half at a steal. I used the money to pay for Chloe’s tuition and came over here as little as possible.
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