So very many things.
I had to get out of there. She was probably freaking out right now. I’d literally held her down the entire time. I’d never done that in my life. Sex had always been a mutually beneficial bit of fun. More importantly, it was sweaty and quieting for my ever busy mind.
But never like that.
I’d never been so afraid to let someone go.
I didn’t want her to see me. The real me or the network of scars that riddled my body.
I stared down at my still hard cock and ripped off the condom, wrapping it in toilet paper before flushing it.
The scar bit into the skin above my cock and finally ended halfway down my thigh. I was a mangled mess.
Who the hell would want to touch any of this?
I gripped the edge of her sink.
I willed my cock to give up the need to go back into that room. To go for another round and pound out every frustration and confusing twisted longing into her sweet, perfect body. She fit me like she was fucking made for me.
I jerked my jeans closed.
No one was made for this monstrosity of a body.
Least of all someone like Dahlia. Her huge dark eyes that saw way too much. The fire that lived inside of her called out to something inside of me. Hidden in my fucked-up psyche where no one should ever travel. No matter how perfect she fit me. Or that heart-shaped ass that made me want to hold on and never let go. I could still smell her on me.
Her honeyed, flawless skin and the warm peaches scent of her hair.
It would have to be enough. Once was all I’d allow. This was a mistake on every level.
Even if the mere idea of not doing that again was a physical pain.
I splashed water on my face as cold as I could stand. Washed away the clinging scent of her in my beard. Of the salty and sweet uniqueness that I’d happily wear daily if I was any other man.
But I wasn’t. And never would be again.
I dried off before I stepped back into the hallway.
I was ready to run away and hop in my Airstream and head to the mountains. Part of me wanted to leave the house and this lake town in my rearview.
I clenched my hands at my sides.
Running again.
It would be easier to be alone. It wasn’t as if Macy wanted me around, anyway.
It would be easier for everyone.
“Going somewhere?”
I froze, unable to turn around. “Dahlia—”
“Oh, now I’m Dahlia?”
I glanced over my shoulder and my whole system locked. Her hair was down and she wore a simple T-shirt that was sheer enough that I could see the brown sugar tone of her nipples. Already, I missed the little constellation of freckles that clung to the side of her left breast. It would have another mark from my teeth right in the center of the cluster.
One of many bruises I’d probably left behind on her.
“This wasn’t right.” My voice was little more than a whisper.
“What part wasn’t right?” She lifted her chin. “The part where you wanted me so bad you nailed me into the mattress, or the part where you growled my name in my ear as you came as hard as I did?”
I fisted my hands at my sides. “It was only because it’s been a while.”
“Sure. If that what you need to tell yourself.” She threw my wallet at me.
I caught it against my chest, bobbling it once and almost dropping it.
She shook her hair back over her shoulders, and fuck, her nipples were twin points under her shirt. Even as anger spiked in the room, the tip of my tongue burned with need to taste them again. Taste even lower.
She folded her arms over her chest, and my gaze snapped to hers. She gave me a bland stare.
I shoved my wallet into my front pocket. “It’s what needs to happen.” The words came easily out of my mouth even though every instinct told me to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back into her bedroom and sink inside of her again.
I swallowed down against how badly I wanted it.
She didn’t deserve my brand of fucked-up.
“If you want this job, that’s what we have to do,” I added.
