Play You: A Second Chance/Single Dad Romance (Rebel Ink Book 4) Page 10

  "You want... you think..." I stutter, his finger never once pausing at my core.

  "I don't think, Piper. I know," he breathes.

  My head falls back against the chair and my eyes close as he presses harder.

  "But not yet," he announces, ripping his hand away and leaving me feeling cold.

  "Arsehole," I mutter, much to his amusement as he resumes eating. The prick doesn't so much as look over at me as I silently fume, waiting for the film to start.

  I've seen adverts on the TV for it, and it's pretty good. He was right in what he said; I'll always choose action over anything that might have a sappy happily ever after.

  We’re getting toward the end of the movie when I pull the last Love Heart from my packet and turn it over.

  Kiss me.

  Glancing over at Dawson, I find him lost in the movie. The action is ramping up, ready for the final fight before we race toward the end, and while I might want to know what happens, I've got other things on my mind right now. Like the slow thrum of desire that's been coursing through me since he last touched me.

  I elbow his arm to get his attention before handing the Love Heart over. He takes it curiously, ripping his eyes away from the screen to look down at it.

  His entire body tenses as he reads those two words. He doesn't move for a solid two seconds before he turns to me.

  "Not gonna happen, baby girl."

  "Why?" I ask, hating the vulnerability that creeps into my tone.

  "I have my reasons," he growls out. I expect him to pass it back and really stomp on my heart, but at the last minute, his lips part and he throws it into his mouth. I watch his lips as he chews, then his tongue sneaks out to lick up the sweetness, and I damn near melt into a puddle.

  "Problem?" he asks, looking back at me.

  "N-no." I hate that he knows I'm lying. I hate that he has this power over me.

  I slump down in my chair and focus back on the film, although I don't see any of it. I'm too busy sulking.

  "Stop pouting, baby girl," he whispers in my ear, making me jump out of my skin. I was so lost in my own head that I didn't even feel him move closer. It's not even been a week and he's already screwing with me. "It doesn't suit you."

  I would say I should have walked away, but seeing as I didn't plan any of this today, I don't think it's very realistic. It's clear that he's got a game plan here. The question is if I actually want to be a willing player. The fact that I'm probably going to end up just as broken, if not more so, than the last time should make me run, but I can't help myself. I know the flame is going to burn me, yet I can't stop myself from getting closer.

  His lips press to the side of my neck.

  "This what you wanted?" he murmurs, brushing them against my sensitive skin.

  "Not exactly, but I'm assuming it's all you're going to give me."

  He chuckles before his tongue sneaks out and licks up the column of my neck.

  "Are you wet for me?"

  "Screw you. You won't give me what I want, so why should I do anything you want?"

  "Because you don't have a choice."

  "And you do?" I snap, turning my head toward him. Our lips are so close I can feel the heat of his burning mine, yet he still doesn't move.

  I edge forward, but he clocks the move and retreats a little.

  "Why?" I ask, my brows pulling together.

  "I can't, baby girl."

  My eyes search his, desperate to find the answer to my question. He'll do all the things he's done to me willingly, yet he won't kiss me. It makes no sense.

  "Stop overthinking. Just..." he reaches out, tucks his fingers under the fabric of my blouse, and finds the button on my jeans.

  "Dawson, you can't distract me with..." My words trail off as his fingers push inside the fabric.

  I fall back into my seat, stretching out a little to give him more room.

  "For someone who wants to fight, you're sure being compliant," he mutters, amusement filling his voice.

  "You owe me." My eyes lock on his.

  "Is that right?"

  I gasp when his rough fingers find my clit.

  "Baby girl, you're going to need to be quiet."

  I nod eagerly, not willing to let him stop now that he's started.

  He circles my clit a couple of times before pushing lower. A low growl rumbles up his throat.

  "Fuck, you're soaked."

  "It's all the action," I mutter, nodding toward the screen. "Gets my engine revving."

  He shakes his head at my joke. His lips part as if he wants to say something, but no words pass his lips.

  "Go on," I encourage as his finger dips inside me, making my head spin, but I focus on his dark eyes, desperate for him to open up to me, even just a little bit.

  "I... fuck," he snaps, looking away from me.

  "No, don't hide." I reach out and take his cheek in my hand, pulling his head back to me. "Tell me."

  "I missed you, okay? I fucking missed you. All right?"

  His jaw clenches the moment the words have passed his lips, and his shoulders pull tight.

  A second passes between us, and it's not until he moves his finger once again that I realise he's stopped and what position we're in.

  "I missed you too, Dawson."

  His breath catches at my words, his eyes darkening. But he soon covers it, bringing his sky-high walls back up and focusing on the job he started.

  With one hand cupped over my mouth, my other claws at his forearm as he works me. I come just at the same time a car explodes on the screen, so when I do cry out into my hand, it's lost.

  My chest heaves, my skin covered in a sheen of sweat as I continue to lay there limp as my body tries to recover.

  "You're welcome," comes from beside me as he tugs his hand from my clothing.

  "Am I? You should know that I'm not returning the favour."

  "Did I ask you to?"

  Lifting his fingers, he pushes two past his lips and sucks. His eyes roll a little as he tastes me.

  "Better than the popcorn?" I ask as I sit up and put myself back together.

  "You've no idea, baby girl."

  13

  Dawson

  By the time the film is over, not only am I hard as fuck for the woman whose sweet scent filled my nose through the entire thing, but I know I've only got an hour to get to work and I'm not going to be able to have time to rectify the situation.

  "What now?" she asks as we emerge from the dark theatre.

  "I need to take you home."

  "Oh." The disappointment in her tone makes me smile. For some insane reason, and despite her argument earlier, she actually wants to spend time with me.

  It's perfect. It's exactly what I hoped for, although totally not what I expected.

  "I've got to go to work."

  "Okay."

  I pass her my spare helmet as we get to my bike and she quickly pulls it over her head. I'm surprised—I was expecting one hundred and one questions about what I do, amongst other things. But instead, she just waits for me to throw my leg over my bike and climbs on silently behind me.

  Her arms once again come around my waist, and I have to fight the wave of desire her touch causes.

  The drive back to her building is tense. We might not be looking at each other or even able to speak, but that doesn't mean I can't feel her pulling away.

  "Well, thanks, I guess," she says, pulling the helmet off and passing it over once I've killed the engine and climbed off.

  "You make out like you didn't enjoy yourself." Her cheeks heat as the memory of what happened in the cinema hits her.

  Reaching down, I rearrange myself in my jeans, a move she doesn't miss. Not that I expected her to.

  She quirks an eyebrow.

  "If you think I'm going to—"

  "I don't think anything, baby girl," I say, stepping up to her and pushing her back until she hits the wall beside her main door.

  I don't stop until my hips are pinning her in place a
nd her breath catches from our closeness.

  "Dawson, please, don't."

  She turns her head away from me, refusing to allow me to look into her eyes.

  "What are you afraid of, baby girl?"

  Reaching out, I press my knuckle to her jaw and twist her head back.

  "You," she breathes. "I'm afraid of you."

  "You think I'm going to hurt you?"

  "Well... aren't you? You want revenge. I get it. This thing between us, it's not real, and I'd be stupid to think it was."

  Clever girl. Pride for my girl swells inside me, but I can't let her read it. She might be suspicious, and she might just have every reason to be, but I need to squash it.

  She's right, I do need my revenge. I need that and something else alongside it. And am I going to hurt her? I sure fucking hope so, because she shattered me all those years ago and she needs a taste of her own medicine.

  "It's real, baby girl."

  "But," she starts, tears pooling in her eyes, "you... you won't even k-kiss me."

  "Trust me, it's not because I don't want to."

  "So why, Dawson? Talk to me."

  I can't tell her the truth, that if I allow myself to kiss her then I fear all of this, my resolve, my need for revenge, will come crashing around my feet.

  "I-I want it to be special."

  She swoons at my words, her eyes softening.

  "Things between us have been..."

  "Intense?" she adds.

  "Yeah. Seeing you at Knight's Ridge, it was a shock. I was angry. I thought you were dead, Piper. Then there you were, standing in front of me. It fucked with my head, baby."

  "I'm... sorry."

  "Fresh start?" I ask, watching her eyes sparkle.

  "For real?"

  "Yeah, baby. For real. However," I add, needing her to know the reality. She must sense what I'm about to say because she tenses beneath me. "We can't just forget about the past." Fear rushes back through her eyes. "You will tell me the truth about what happened."

  "O-okay." She swallows nervously.

  "I know you're worried that I'm going to hurt you or tell my father, but equally, right now, I have no idea what you're planning. If this is going to work, we both need to lay all our cards on the table."

  "I'm not planning anything. I didn't think I'd ever see you—"

  I press my fingers to her lips, cutting her off.

  "Not now. Soon. I'll be in touch." Tilting my head up, I press my lips to her brow, lingering for just a second before spinning away from her and marching back to my bike.

  I don't look back. I can’t. I've lost myself enough in her in the past week. I need to turn things around, put my plan into action and my need for revenge on the backburner, because that time will come.

  I head to the studio via home so I can check in on Emmie. She’s awake and back under a blanket, curled up on the sofa again.

  “Your arse is going to fuse to that thing if you don’t do something else, you know?”

  “Ha, funny,” she mutters without taking her eyes from the screen. “I’m just enjoying my freedom while I have it.”

  “Good, make the most of it. Tomorrow is a school night.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “I’m serious. I’m off tomorrow, and we’re going to make sure you’re all set. I won’t have you behind before your first day.” I'm not doing all of this to pay her tuition for her to just fuck it up before she’s even donned the uniform.

  “I can’t wait.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Great. I knew you’d be excited.”

  “Oh yeah. I can hardly sleep.”

  "I'm trusting you, Emmie."

  "I know, Dad. I'm not going to screw this up, I promise."

  I roll my eyes at her. I know she's not thrilled about the idea of attending Knight's Ridge, but I also know she understands what I'm trying to give her. I'm pretty sure she even appreciates it, in her own unique way.

  "Okay. I'm going to be at the studio all afternoon and evening. If you need me, call me, yeah?"

  "Will do."

  "The fridge is stocked, or you can order dinner. Whatever."

  "I know, Dad. I've got this. It's not the first time you've gone to work since I've been here."

  "Okay, well... be good."

  "When aren't I good?" she calls as I head back to the front door. Shaking my head, I make my way to work, ideas flitting around in my head for what I'm going to do to start over with Piper.

  I want her to believe that I'm serious, so I want it to be something a little more creative than taking her to a fancy restaurant and trying to impress her with my choice. She knows me well enough to know that I'm not an expensive meal kind of man.

  With a sigh, I pull the bike up outside the studio and make my way inside.

  The guys are nowhere to be seen, but Biff and Kas are sitting on the sofas, drinking coffee as if they're in a café.

  "Afternoon," Biff says, nodding her head at me.

  "Hey, how's it going?" I drop down onto the sofa opposite them. I could use their advice right now.

  "Same old, same old."

  "Spike's got a client who's having a... personal tat." Kas winks. "Pussy didn't want me watching." She rolls her eyes, and I can't help but laugh.

  "Gotta love those. Listen, I need some advice."

  They both lean forward a little. I understand why they're intrigued; I've never asked either of them for anything before, despite their offers to help with Emmie should I need a woman's touch.

  "I need to plan a date."

  Biff's chin drops. She's known me for long enough now to know that I don't date. "Go on..."

  "I need something thoughtful, something... memorable."

  They both think for a few seconds. "I'm assuming a restaurant is out?"

  "Yup."

  "Okay. What's she like?"

  "Um... she's... just normal, I guess. Not flashy, not impressed by money, if that's what you mean. She's... kinda like you. Down to earth."

  "I think there's a compliment in there somewhere," she whispers to Kas. "Okay, leave it with me."

  "Thank you."

  "You want a coffee?"

  "That would be awesome." I disappear down to my room to set up for my first client of the day, hoping it's something big enough that I can lose myself in it.

  By the time I'm done for the night, my desire to go back to Piper's building and take what I need is almost all-consuming. But I know I can't. I told her we were starting over, and that needs to include everything. I want her to believe I'm being sincere, so I need to treat her right. Show her that we could be real.

  In the end, I opt for shooting her a message before I leave the studio. Something that I hope will remind her of what's happened between us this past week and ensure she falls asleep thinking of me.

  Dawson: Your scent is still on my fingers.

  I smile to myself as I picture her eyes widening as she reads it.

  Her response comes faster than I was expecting. I don't even get out of my room.

  Piper: You really should wash your hands a little more often.

  I'm still smiling when I walk out to reception.

  Biff is sitting behind the desk, tapping away at the computer. Zach might be training her up as an artist, but he still has her doing all his dirty work.

  "D," she says, ripping her eyes away from the screen, "I've got a few options for you."

  "Awesome."

  "You got time now?"

  "Yep, hit me with them."

  “Okay, so… get her out of the city; take her to the beach; moonlight walk on the sand? A picnic somewhere with a view. Hiking.” She rattles off at least ten ideas, one of which I know she’ll love but would require waiting until next weekend to plan it. I need more if I want Piper to believe that I can't stop thinking about her.

  "So, who is she?" Biff asks, leaning forward on her elbows and looking up at me excitedly.

  "No one."

  "Bullshit, D. You haven’t dated anyone i
n the entire time I've been here. She clearly means something if you're going to this much effort."

  "She's just..." I swallow down a few of the words I could use to describe Piper. Most of them I don't want to accept, let alone say out loud. "Someone from my past."

  "Oh, ex-girlfriend?"

  "Something like that," I mutter. "Thanks for the ideas, I really appreciate it."

  "Oh, uh, yeah. Any time. You know where I am."

  I nod at her before dumping my mug in the kitchen and heading out.

  My head is spinning with ideas as I make the short journey home.

  Nerves flutter in my belly as I think about what I'm trying to achieve. On paper, it seems like a really good idea. Use her, get what my daughter needs, and then drop her like she did me years ago.

  There's just one problem...

  Every second I spend with her, the more I remember just how incredible our time together was. And the more the thought of handing her over to my father and Cruz terrifies me.

  I know my father is still out for Collins blood. This means he won't think twice about taking his revenge the second he locks eyes on her.

  Not three minutes after I walk through the front door do the credits roll up on the program Emmie is watching. I snag the remote before she gets a chance and turn it off.

  "Hey, I was watching that."

  "You're in exactly the same place as you were when I left." The only difference is the pizza box on the coffee table.

  "So?"

  "Tidy up and go to bed. You need a routine."

  "No, what I need is to watch another episode. I'm not even tired."

  "I don't care, Em."

  She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at me. If she thinks I'm going to back down on this then she clearly doesn't know me very well.

  "Okay, fine," she huffs after long, silent seconds, throwing the blanket off and collecting all her crap.

  "First thing in the morning, Em, we're tackling what's left of that school stuff."

  "Whatever," she mumbles from the kitchen. All I do is smile.

  She might be a pain in the arse when she wants to be, probably my genes, but I love having her here. I love having this time together. It's something I never thought I'd get.