Playing For Love (34 page)

David's hand caught my wrist as I tried to step a way. I glanced at his restraining hand, then his face as he searched mine.

“I have to check on him.”

His eyes darted away, not in annoyance, more like he was avoiding something. Finally, his gripped loosened and I pulled away, going outside.

I found myself approaching Zach slowly, afraid of what I was going to find.  

He was in the same position. Unmoving.

“Zach?” I whispered.

He moaned, a pained sound.

“Zach, do you need an ambulance?”

His head moved then, looking at me through swelling eyes. He looked frightening. It took everything in me not to cringe.

He shook his head minutely.

I swallowed thickly and asked, “What do you need?”

He looked like he was going to say something. His jaw twitched, but didn't move.

“If you can fucking stand, get the fuck outta here.” David's hard voice boomed behind me, startling me.

Zach sat up slowly and I took a step back. He said nothing as he carefully got to his feet. He started toward the gate and stumbled. I turned away, walking back to David.

David's his expression was cold, his body near vibrating with fury as he watched Zach.

“If you ever fucking touch her again, you won't be walking away.” David's eyes burned with rage as he spoke.          

David gestured for me to get inside, then I heard the gate swing shut.

I went straight to the kitchen. Grabbing a hand towel, I started dumping ice in it. I didn't know what to do, never having been in this situation before.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around me from behind, making me jump.

“Breathe,” he rasped, his lips grazing my ear as he spoke. 

Relaxing into his big body, I closed my eyes and breathed him in, feeling the tension slowly drain away.

“That for me?” he whispered after several minutes.

“Yeah.” I handed the makeshift ice pack to him.

“Come here, sweet girl.” He led me to the couch. Sitting down first, he pulled me into his lap, making me straddle his thick muscled thighs.

We looked at each other, neither of us saying anything.

My gaze darted to his bloodied hand as I broke the awkward silence. “Put that on your hand.”

“I got it.” He obeyed. “Look at me.”

When I did, his eyes were sad. Resigned.

“Did you kiss him?”

“No,” I breathed.   

“Did he kiss you?”

“No, he tried—but no.”

He swallowed thickly, then whispered, “Did he—?”

“No, David. You got here before he could do anything.”

His expression shifted to stark relief. Then he pressed his forehead to my chest. His arms closed around me, squeezing me tight to him. Everything in his touch expressed a gratefulness I found alarming and deeply satisfying. Running my fingers through his hair, I pulled him in to me, soothing him.

For the first time, I really felt the magnitude of my power over him and understood how much he would do for me.

It was an intoxicating feeling.   

We're all kinds of fucked up
.

“You would tell me? If something happened? If he did something to you?” He sounded terrified at the possibility.

“Yes, of course,” I tried to reassure him. “I would, babe. I'd tell you.”

He pulled back enough to look in my eyes.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Why were you treating me like a wild animal?” His eyes closed. “
Fuck
. I left Chance in the truck.”

“Oh, shit,” I breathed. “I'll get him.” I backed off his lap.

“No, I got him.” He stood, pressing a kiss to my forehead before quickly exiting the house. Seconds later, Chance came barreling through, rubbing against my legs.

“Chance, up.” David pointed at the love seat.

Chance obeyed right away and David reclaimed his previous spot and pulled me back into his lap, angling me to straddle him again.     

“What're you gonna say if the police show up?” he asked suddenly, his hands restless on my thighs.

The question was surreal and confusing. He asked so matter-of-factly. I thought a moment, trying to figure out what he was after.

“I'd say it was self-defense, you were protecting me.”

He searched my face.

“You're not afraid of me?” he asked again.

“No. I'm not,” I promised, cradling his jaw, willing him to see the truth.

“Then let me inside.” His hand cupped my sex through my sweat shorts. There was an urgency in his touch, in his movements. Before I could answer, he was unbuttoning his jeans, freeing his cock, demanding gently, “Let me in.”

He didn't wait for a response as he pushed my shorts aside and grabbed his thick length, lining himself up at my opening. His other hand gripped my ass, urging me to push down.

I wasn't ready.

He didn't seem to care, overcome with his need.

“Sweetheart, let me in,” he breathed against my lips, his forehead pressing to mine.

His hand on my ass moved to my breast, his thumb brushing over my sore nipple. Then he pinched hard and a jolt of pain shot through my body. My chest arched forward and my hips pushed down.

“Let me in.” His voice shifted, turning more demanding.

My cheek pressed to his, my lips against his jaw,  my hands clasped behind his neck, bracing myself for the pain as a small helpless noise escaped me.

“David,” I breathed.   

Deft fingers moved to our joined bodies, pulling my lips wide as he painfully worked his thick length halfway into me.

I whimpered, the sharp pain pulling my entire focus. It felt like he would rip me in two.

“
Fuck
. It hurts.”

“Please, just take it.”

His tone pulled at something inside me, making my chest ache and my eyes sting.

My nails dug into his neck as his hands moved to my hips, pushing them down, forcing his cock inside my unprepared walls before hitting my natural lubrication.  Then he bottomed out fast, hitting my end hard, shocking me.

He let out a deep groan as his arms closed around me, clutching me tight.  

“Did you want him? Even for a second?”

“God, no!”

“Tell me you love me.” His voice was pleading and needy. It broke my heart.

“I love you, David. I do.”

His arms tightened around me, his breath gusting against my neck. “I'd never hurt you,” he swore. “I'd kill myself before I hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered, alarmed by his words.

“I'd
never
hit you.”

Then understanding flooded through me and I stilled. He was afraid I would think he was like his father. And maybe he was afraid he was like his father. The rage I saw, the way he went after Zach, made sense to me. He had years of pent-up anger. Some of it got an outlet today.

“It's okay.”

“Please, come for me. I need to feel you come for me,” he begged breathlessly.

“I will,” I breathed, trying to ignore the wetness I felt on his bloodied hand. I didn't know where he’d put the ice, and I tried not to think about that either. But really, those things were running through my mind so I wouldn't have to think about David savagely beating a man only fifteen minutes ago.

I forced myself to focus on the stimulation, on the pleasure.

“I need—”

His thumb moved to my clit, cutting me off. His other hand was on my breast, working my nipple deftly, and I melted into the pleasure of his skilled touch.

“I'll give you everything you need,” he promised. “
Anything
. Any fucking thing you want.”

He worked me to orgasm. Over and over, until he calmed down.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Call a doctor. You need stitches.”

“Austin,” he sighed in weak protest.

“David, do it. They can't heal if you leave them open. A couple are deep, and they’re from
human
teeth.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

He pulled out his phone as he walked down the hall, picking mine up from where I’d dropped it.

“Not broken,” he announced, walking back over, setting it on the coffee table. 

I went to the bathroom to freshen up before the movers arrived. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a few streaks of blood on my neck and jaw. I should've been alarmed, disturbed, something. I never thought David had that kind of violence in him, not really. I knew he had the potential to be dangerous. He definitely was physically capable of it. I was more unsettled by my lack of concern about it. As I washed my face, I could hear David's voice from right outside the door. After I was done with everything, I went back into the living room.

“I told you,” I nagged, “don't hang around the bathroom when I'm in there.”

“Just checking to see if you were crying,” he defended himself. “A doctor will be here in twenty.”

“Do you think he will press charges?”

“Zach?”

I nodded.

“I don't think so.” Then he shrugged. “Who knows?” 

The doctor arrived and took care of David's hand. He needed eight stitches on his first two fingers, under the first knuckle, running horizontally. The doctor didn't ask any questions and we didn't offer any answers. But when I asked, “How many germs are in a human mouth? Is there a shot or something to combat them if they enter the blood stream?” David's eyes rolled up to the ceiling in a terrible attempt to act annoyed with my concern, but he failed to stop his lips from curling up at the edges. The doctor gave me a look, but said nothing. He did give David an injection of a nasty-looking antibiotic, though.

The movers showed up just as the doctor was finishing. I showed them the desk and came back to the living room, sitting with Chance as David walked the doctor out.  

“You okay?” David asked quietly as he approached me.

“Yeah.” I was fine, but I shouldn't have been. “Still hungry and I want to pig out now.”

He laughed, sounding relieved. “We'll get something on the way home. It'll take the movers longer than us to get there.”

“Call Tomato Pie.” Since I wouldn't be spending much time over here anymore, I wanted to get pizza from my favorite place.

He looked surprised either at my sudden statement or that I was letting the whole Zach thing go so easily, I'm not sure which and I didn't want to know.

“Yes, ma'am,” he agreed readily.

I went to my room to finish emptying my drawers while he placed the order.

*****

David argued, but I won. He needed to get Chance home and fed, unload my clothes, and be there in case the movers made it there before me, so I went to Tomato Pie by myself. It also gave me time to think. I tried to think of all the possible outcomes of the altercation that took place only an hour earlier.

Would he press charges? Would he use it for publicity? Or both?

I felt sick.

David hadn't even settled the Kelsey thing yet and I was bringing more drama into our lives.

David didn't seem worried. He thought Zach would use it for publicity and he’d said the deal with Kelsey had several angles that had to be covered and I shouldn't worry. But that's all I could do was worry.

Pulling into the drive, I noticed the movers still hadn't arrived. I parked in the garage—where David was waiting, looking happy and relieved. He had a shy smile on his too-handsome face when he opened my car door. I stepped out and he leaned in, giving me a sweet kiss, reminding me of a shy boy. He grabbed the pizza with one hand and my hand with his other, leading me into the house, much like my first time here.

Setting the box on the kitchen island, he pulled me close, leaning in until we were nose to nose.

“You go get changed. Get comfortable. I'll take care of everything else.” He placed another too-sweet kiss on my lips.

“My trunk—”

“I got it,” he whispered sweetly. “Go.”

I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Maybe he was being sweeter or maybe more attentive, which was saying a lot, because he was always attentive. It was almost like he was trying to compensate for me seeing the fight or seeing what he was capable of.

Once in our room, I stripped and pulled on some joggers, or skinny sweats as I like to call them. Then I dug through David's drawers until I found one of his old, faded tees. Slipping it over my head, I instantly felt more relaxed. The old material—even freshly washed—stilled smelled of him. 

Making my way into the living area, I found the pizza, plates, and waters on the ottoman. I sat down on the couch just as he walked in carrying the desktop, taking it into my office. Then he went back out to the garage. He completely emptied my trunk before coming to sit next to me, which made me feel pretty bad, considering his freshly stitched fingers.

“What's wrong? Do you need something? Why aren't you eating?” he asked, getting comfortable.

“Waiting on you,” I admitted sheepishly. It seemed stupid now.

“You can be so
fucking
sweet,” he muttered as he placed a kiss to my temple. He grabbed his plate and sat back. “What're we watching?”

“I don't know.”

“What's up?” he asked before taking a bite of pizza. 

“Just distracted watching you.” Then I admitted what was really bothering me. “Wondering what's going to happen, with what happened today. He isn't going to just let that go. People are going to see him.”

“He'll probably spin it. Don't worry about it. I told Elaine what happened. She'll deal with whatever comes of it.”

“Yeah, but what if—?”

“Sweet girl,” he cut me off, his voice patient and gentle, “it's what I pay her for. Don't worry.”

I tried not to think about it, tried to relax and enjoy him. Taking a bite of pizza, I moaned as my taste buds exploded. I'd forgotten how good it was.

I swallowed. “I love this pizza.”

“It's good.” His smile was genuine. “I texted Aaron to get your mail forwarded and to cancel your gym membership. Won't be needing that anymore,” he added wryly.

“Thank you, babe,” I murmured, shocked he was meticulously taking care of me after the events of this afternoon—
I
hadn't even remembered my gym membership.

When the movers arrived, I showed them where to put the two pieces and stood out of the way, watching as my mid-century office came together with my black walls, pale pink couch, dark wood desk, armoire, and black high-backed office chair. The white ceiling and wall of white shelves popped in stark contrast.

“I love it. Thank you,” I whispered when David came back in from walking the movers out.

“Good, I'm glad you're happy,” he whispered as he wrapped his thick arms around me. I tried to ignore his stitches and enjoy the moment. “Up,” he said suddenly.

I looked at him. He nodded, telling me he meant what I thought. I hopped up and he caught me under my thighs, carrying me into the bedroom.

“You mind if we spend the rest of the day in bed?” he asked as he walked to the bed.

“Not at all.”

“Good.” He sat me down. “I'll be right back with the pizza and water. Want anything else?” 

“Nope.”

I watched as he walked out, staring at his broad back and strong legs. I was still a little stunned I wasn't afraid of him after what I’d seen him do—the violence in him. He walked back in with two plates and two waters and Chance on his heels. He handed me one plate and set the other plate on his nightstand, tossing the bottles of water on the bed.

“Be right back.” He gave me a sexy smirk and wink as he went into the closet. 

I heard drawers opening and closing.

“By the way, I fucking love you in my shirts,” he called.

“You've mentioned it before,” I laughed.

“Just making sure you know.”

He stepped out of the closet wearing low-slung lounge pants.

“Damn. And I have you all to myself.”

“Yes, you do,” he rumbled, crawling into bed, tossing the bottles of water out of the way as he settled next to me. “And I get you all to myself. Forever.”

“That's the plan.”

“
No
. That's what's
happening
, sweetheart.”

“Mmmm.” I tried to smother my smile.

He turned on the TV and we settled in. Chance hopped up and laid across the foot of the bed.

We watched TV and ate the rest of the pizza. Well, he ate the rest of the pizza.

“I just want to watch TV and hold you for the rest of the night.” His voice was a soft purr as he curled his big body around mine. His arm snaked around my waist pulling me snug against him as his leg pushed between mine until his thigh was pressed firmly against my sex.

I slid my leg over his, getting comfortable.

“I need the rest of my clothes,” I hinted, rubbing my hand over his muscled forearm, feeling the muscles shifting under my hands as his grip tightened.

“I'll get 'em this weekend,” he murmured quietly. “That okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll put everything away tomorrow and set your computer up.” 

“Thanks, babe.”

I knew I should say “Oh no, you don't need to,” but I didn't. 

*****

David woke me—just like he always did, but he was sweeter, more attentive—with an amazing breakfast of pecan pancakes with maple syrup and an extra-large coffee.

We easily returned to our morning routine, like he hadn't viciously beaten a man the day before. We agreed to skip the gym for a few days, so his stitches could do their thing.

“We're going to turn into lazy bums,” I teased. “You're going to have to pry me out of this bed when you're ready to go back.”

“You're still getting a workout every day.” His tone was unreadable. 

David got up, taking everything to the kitchen. Minutes later, he popped his head in while I sat in bed drinking my coffee, a bit confused by his behavior.

“I'm gonna start getting your office ready.”

He was gone before I could respond.

David spent the morning setting my office and hooking my desktop, printer, and whatever else he deemed necessary up.

With my freshly washed face, clean black sweat shorts, and vintage Guns N’ Roses tee, my hair up in a top knot, I sat in the living room on the oversized couch with my laptop. I was checking my e-mail when David appeared in the hallway.

“You wanna keep these?” he asked, holding two pictures of me and Zach. One was crumpled up.

I thought about it before I answered, “Yeah.”

His jaw clenched.  

“I want to keep them so I won't forget what it was like before you.”

He waited, his expression unchanging.

“I know there'll be a time when I take you for granted, when I think I'll be happier without you. I want a reminder that it's not true. I was never really happy before you.”

His expression shifted to something close to understanding. He nodded, turning to go back into my office, though he didn't look happy.

The mention of Zach reminded me of our potential assault charges. I did a search for
Zach Stone fight,
Zach Stone face,
and finally just
Zach Stone injury.
There was no mention of anything.

Yet.

“What're you looking at?” David asked from the hall, making his way toward me with his sexy swagger.

“I think you know,” I answered as I scrolled down.

“Anything?” He paused at the end of the couch.

“Nope. Not yet.” I looked up, really taking him in. He was still wearing the pants from the night before, and still shirtless.

“Working out an angle,” he muttered, walking toward the kitchen. He returned, handing me a cup of coffee. “Anyway, you know Elaine will let us know before it goes public.”

I really hoped that was true, but with social media, he could post something anytime he felt like it.

Sipping my coffee, I got lost in thoughts of nothingness, almost like my brain was trying to shut out the stress. 

He nudged me gently. “We're okay.”

Taking a deep breath, I rearranged my face into a relaxed expression. I really hoped he was right. Zach looked so bad. So disfigured. I couldn't imagine there not being repercussions.

He pressed his lips to my temple, blatantly looking at my screen.

“It loses its sweet factor when you're so obviously looking at the computer screen,” I deadpanned.