Dash of Peril

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

WITH MARGO BUSY UPSTAIRS, Dash put on soup then took his own quick shower, taking the time to shave, as well. Dressed only in jeans—unsnapped—he stood at the counter, making sandwiches when she came downstairs.

Like him, she wore very little, only a T-shirt and panties.

It fired his blood, seeing her like this, so sultry and on the make. For him.

It wasn’t the first time a woman had taken the lead, but it was a first with Margo and because she was special, because he loved her, it ramped up his excitement to an acute level.

He turned, watching her come toward him. “Luckily the fire has warmed the floor. Otherwise your feet would be cold.”

“No.” She walked right up to him and, after a slow perusal of his body, stroked his chest, his shoulder, his chin. “I’m plenty warm.”

Looping his arms around her waist, his hands meeting over her curvy backside, Dash kept her close. She wore no makeup and her naked mouth looked lush. He wanted to kiss her long and deep, but didn’t want to steal her show.

She didn’t need makeup to look good. With her dark brows and long lashes, her high cheekbones, she looked sexy as hell no matter what. The bruises that had marred her fair skin were finally fading. How long would it be before the memory did the same?

Trailing her fingers down to the waistband of his open jeans, she murmured, “I’m starving.”

“A double entendre, I hope.” Subtly, he let his hands drop a little more, and lazily stroked her ass. Firm, silky... He needed her naked. With him naked. No more reservations between them.

Smiling, she stepped away and went to the table. “How soon until we eat?”

So she wanted to drag out the inevitable? Good. He wanted to savor things, too. “It’s ready now.” More than willing to play the game, which only built the anticipation, he served her.

They each took their time eating, talking. Oliver roamed the house, surprisingly at ease in the unfamiliar setting. He especially seemed to enjoy the fireplace and after a main-floor reconnoiter, he went back to doze on the hearth.

Seeing Margo like this made Dash want to know everything about her. “What were you like as a little girl?”

“I already told you.” Done with her food, Margo sat back, her legs crossed, her posture relaxed as she sipped on her sweet tea. “I was competitive and stubborn and independent.”

That much hadn’t changed, but now, having met her parents, he wondered how they’d dealt with a headstrong little girl—that they’d apparently never wanted in the first place. “Were you a tomboy or a girlie-girl?”

She traced a fingertip in the sweat on her glass. “A little of both maybe. I wanted to do all the things that West did—but I also liked playing with the occasional doll.” She tipped her head, thinking back. “I liked to dress like a girl, too, but it wasn’t always appropriate.”

The image in his mind was so adorably cute, he couldn’t help but imagine how their daughter might look. He’d want her to have Margo’s features, her big blue eyes. “How so?”

“When competing, a skirt can be a problem. So more often than not I was in jeans or shorts. I remember that I seemed to stay dirty, either from tussling on the ground or climbing a tree or forever running and getting sweaty.” She smiled to herself. “Mom stopped buying me shirts in pink and yellow and lavender and instead stuck with brown and gray because she said at least then the dirt stains didn’t show.”

It took all Dash had to keep his scowl hidden. “Did you like ribbons in your hair? Ponytails? Braids?”

Without any real deliberation, she touched the soft curls over her ear. “Maybe when I was really young. But my dad cut my hair when I was seven, and I’ve kept it short ever since.”

“Your dad cut your hair?”

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. “Dad always cut West’s hair. He’d use the clippers on him every other week it seemed. Then once, when West was about thirteen or fourteen, I followed him to the creek. He and some other boys were jumping from rock to rock, just looking at the fish and crawdads, screwing around like boys do. I tried to follow him, but I slipped and landed in the mud.”

That familiar ache expanded in his gut again. “Your parents were mad?”

“Mom wasn’t home when West took me in. He was afraid I was hurt, but I knew I wasn’t. I just had a skinned-up knee and a few scrapes and bruises—and all that mud.” She shook her head. “Dad ordered me into the bath, and when I was done, he made me sit in the kitchen chair while he cut my hair.”

Thoughts churning, heart aching, Dash slowly sat forward. “With scissors?”

For the longest time she didn’t answer, then she shook her head. “No. He used the clippers.”

Dash wanted to kill him. Every muscle in his body went taut with the need to take the older man apart. She’d been a child, a little girl with scrapes and bruises and a need to fit in.

But her fucking father had humiliated her.

“You don’t need to look so upset.” Her gaze moved over his face. “I learned so much that day.”

“You were only seven years old.”

“And stubborn as a mule.” Again she touched her hair. “Mom was furious when she saw me. She said we’d all be gossiped about. They had a big fight about it. It was one of the few times I saw her win. Even West was mad about it. Dad said he was wrong and I could grow it back.”

But she hadn’t. Comprehension dawned. “You cut it after that?”

His conclusion made her smile. “Every single time. I even got a whooping once for it, but I did it again the next time anyway. I figured Dad wanted it short, so by God, I’d keep it short.”

She really had been a handful. And he was glad. That backbone had kept her safe, helped to protect her heart, and made her into the woman he now loved. “Clippers?”

“When they didn’t hide them from me. Once when they did, I used scissors and it was so uneven, it was worse than just shearing it off.” Her smile went crooked. “I was so bad.”

“You were—are—so proud.”

She didn’t deny it. “Finally Mom gave up and started taking me to a salon so they could at least keep the short hair styled. They convinced me that some curls would be nice.”

“Very nice.”

“Before Dad cut it, the weight pulled it straighter. But no longer than it is now, the curl takes over.”

“I love your hair.”

“Thank you.” She sat forward, her chin on a fist. “It’s a reminder to Dad that I know how to win. In fact, he told me once that while he regretted cutting it, he knew I’d learned from it, that I had figured out how to turn the tables on people who tried to hurt me.” She went quiet. “That’s the closest he’s ever come to giving me a compliment.”

Nice insight from an abusive father. “Was he right?”

“Yes.” Straightening, no longer so introspective, she lifted her glass for another drink. “With every step I took through the department, there were people who wanted to knock me down. Usually they ended up regretting it.”

She’d tempered that fierce defense to opposition with extreme loyalty to those who deserved it. Like his brother, and Reese. Now Rowdy and Cannon.

“So.” The ice in her glass clinked as she set the glass down. “You donated significant money to Cannon’s rec center?”

In the normal scheme of things, Dash didn’t like to talk about finances, and he especially avoided conversations about donations. But he wanted to know everything about Margo, and that meant she deserved to know everything about him.

He folded his arms on the tabletop. “I’ve donated a few times now. Logan also.” His shrug didn’t begin to cover how little the gesture meant. “I can afford it. It’s easy to see how important it is to Cannon and to the kids who hang out there, so why not?”

“That’s very generous of you.”

This was where things got dicey, where he had to face his own shortcomings. “Actually, it’s not.” He didn’t want to deceive her with misconceptions, so he tried for brutal honesty. “Donating money, especially when it doesn’t even put a dent in my finances, is easy. Too easy. It’s the people like Cannon, the ones who give their time and energy to a project, who really make a difference.”

“Without the cash donations, Cannon couldn’t do it.” She continued to study him. “But you know, it’s nice that you downplay it.”

She’d totally misunderstood. “I’m not.”

A smile brightened her eyes. “Sometimes, Dash, you’re just too wonderful.”

That made him scowl. “Damn it, I’m not. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Not only have Logan and I never done without, we always had the best of everything. Our folks are awesome. They’re the ones who helped our grandparents set up the trust for us because they didn’t need the money. Soon as each of us turned twenty-one, we got a substantial inheritance. Not that we’d been struggling before that. Hell, Margo, we were spoiled.”

“And yet you work.” Margo again sipped her drink. “You have your own business.”

For some reason, it bothered Dash that she gave him qualities he didn’t possess. “I told you, I don’t do well with idle time. Plus I like the physical labor.”

“Yeah, you sound like such a pampered, spoiled, rich kid.”

Was she baiting him? His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say that exactly. It’s just that I...” What? Frustration brought him out of his seat and he began clearing the table. “I’ve been really blessed.”

“And look at how that negatively affected you. You are so lazy, so self-indulgent.” Teasing humor filled the insults with irony. “You only ever think of yourself.”

He closed the dishwasher and, staying near the cabinets—away from her—turned to scowl. “I am self-indulgent. Especially where my personal pleasures are concerned.”

“Women have come easy to you, haven’t they?”

Damn it, she still smiled as if the whole thing were a joke. “Yeah, they have. With good reason.”

“Because you’re so gorgeous,” she mused. Her gaze dipped over his chest, then down to his unsnapped fly. “And such a stud in the sack.”

That only annoyed him more.

“But I’m glad.”

Glad?

With sensual intent, she left her seat. “Now I get to be the recipient of all that expertise.”

He opened his mouth—then closed it. No way would he argue that, not when she’d once thought he’d be boring.

“But,” she added, “I’m not so bad myself.”

Oh, hell no. He did not want to hear about her with other men. She might be able to take it, but he couldn’t.

He started to tell her so, but when she reached him, she only hooked a finger in the front belt loop of his open jeans and tugged him closer. “I think it’s time I proved it to you.”

Going on tiptoes, she caught his mouth—and damn, the lady knew how to kiss.

His heart threatened to punch out of his chest, and with her fingers right there, so close, his dick jumped to attention.

Flattening her left hand on his ribs, she stroked him, up to his chest, down over his abs. Her mouth continued to consume him, so much so that he barely realized what her hands were doing until his jeans loosened more.

Sliding both hands around to his back, and then down, she pushed the denim below his ass.

Freeing her mouth, she stepped back to look at him. She started with the top of his thighs, then slowly looked up to his erection, his stomach, his ribs and his chest, his throat. “You are so impressive.”

Dash braced his hands on the counter behind him, his fingers curling over the ledge, bracing himself against the searing, suggestive heat in her eyes.

With a small purr, she stepped up to him again, but instead of kissing him, she...played. Using both hands. Over his nipples, his clenched abs, around to the top of his ass, back around front again.

Down to his dick.

He locked his jaw.

Her cool fingers moved over him, so featherlight that he couldn’t help but twitch. She kept her head down, her attention on his nakedness.

Slowly, carefully, she wrapped one small hand around him. Squeezing.

“Ah...God.”

Her thumb slipped over the head, making his balls tighten.

“You like that?”

“Yeah.” He managed to free one hand so he could pet her head, teasing those silky little curls that she had fought so hard for. “I love having you touch me.”

“And this?” She firmed her grip and started stroking with one hand while the other went lower, cuddling gently.

His eyes closed. “Yeah.”

She kissed his chest. “I love how you smell, Dash.” Her small tongue came out to tease, and all the while she continued to stroke him.

“Baby...” He fought back a wave of pleasure, swallowed hard. This would be over soon if she didn’t lighten up, and he wanted, needed, to make sure she kept pace with him. “Maybe we should—”

“We will.” She looked up at him, her eyes heavy, and licked her lips.

Dash nudged her forward. “Kiss me.”

But as he started to lean down to her, she whispered, “All right,” and sank to her knees.

Seeing her there in front of him damn near did it for him. Then when her breath brushed him, he stiffened even more. Brushing her cheek over him, she whispered, “You smell even better here.”

“Ah...fuck.” He sucked in air, but it didn’t help. “Baby...” Sinking his fingers into her hair, close to her scalp, he rasped, “You’re killing me.”

“Mmm, maybe this’ll help.” Her hot little tongue flicked out and tasted him, almost stopping his heart. She did it again and again, licking over his shaft, holding him tight between her fingers, up to the head and over.

Trembling with restraint, Dash squeezed his eyes shut and locked his knees. He kept his hand on her head loose, gently encouraging. Not looking at her proved impossible, so he opened his eyes again and stared down at her.

What a sight. She looked so damned pretty sitting back on her heels, her nipples taut against the soft T-shirt, her small hand circling his cock.

Her hotly aroused expression made it clear she enjoyed teasing him.

Unable to stand it, Dash guided her closer, hoping like hell that she’d take the hint and—

Her eyes closed, her lips parted and she drew him into her mouth, her velvet tongue teasing as she took him deep, eased back, slid down over him again. With a humming sound of pleasure, her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked.

His spine made contact with the sharp edge of the counter when he moved both hands to her head, urging her to a faster pace. Insanity. If she didn’t stop now, there’d be no going back for him.

Already he was on the verge of coming.

He hated to call a halt, but... “That’s enough.”

Her fingers tensed on the base of his shaft, squeezing to let him know she disagreed. Her tongue moved over the sensitive underside, then curled up and over the head, wrenching a deep groan out of him.

His testicles drew taut, signaling the point of no return. She held them gently in her palm as if urging him on.

He fought against it, growling, “If you don’t stop, I’m going to—”

Pulling back, she looked up at him and whispered, “Do,” before sucking him deep again.

That one small word, coupled with the way she looked at him, on her knees, his dick in her mouth... It was more than enough. Too much, in fact.

He clenched his fingers in her hair, holding her closer, breathing harder—and groaned out a raging release. She took all of him, everything, and even after the twisting pleasure waned, he heard the soft, hungry sounds she made.

Spent, he twitched as she licked along his length before finally releasing him. He got several more small, damp, teasing kisses, each one sending aftershocks through his now lax muscles.

He needed a hold on the counter now more than ever but he didn’t want to let go of Margo. His legs trembled and he sucked in air, trying to regain his wits.

As she gradually rose, she cupped her hands behind his denim-covered knees, up to the backs of his bare thighs, then to his ass.

Walking her fingertips up his back, she kissed his hip bone, opened her mouth on his abs, lightly bit his left pec, then cuddled in close, nuzzling his throat, aroused and warm and sweet.

Could she feel him shaking?

He dropped his head forward, pulling her closer. Love left his heart full while a slow burn remained just under his skin. “Give me a minute or two.”

“Take all the time you need,” she murmured, still licking his skin, tasting him all over with open-mouth love bites—doing a lot to revive him. She snaked a hand back down to his crotch and gently held him.

It took some concentration, but Dash managed to string words together into a sentence. “You know what this means, right?”

She gave him an easy tug. “It means I’m in control now.”

He smiled, cupped her cheek and leaned her back so he could see her face. By the second he recovered, now semisated and without the sharp bite of desperate need.

But she looked beautifully aroused. Dash glanced down at her breasts, at her stiffened nipples. At that very tempting mouth that had just pleasured him.

He touched her lips with his thumb, then had to bend down to kiss her. “Now that I’ve come—and I thank you for that, by the way—I can hold out longer. A lot longer.”

Something passed over her features. Surprise. Sudden awareness. Hot excitement.

He nibbled on her bottom lip. Had she done it on purpose? Had she deliberately helped him release the sexual tension so he could take her through her paces again? It was a nice thought—one that did a lot to get him going again.

And since her hand still held him, she felt it when he flexed, thickened.

Eyes widening, she looked down at him. “Already?”

“You’re here with me, in my house, and I’m thinking about everything I want to do to you. Everything you’re going to love.” He kissed her, moving his mouth over hers but keeping it gentle.

Controlling it.

Her hand released him, moving to his chest as she anxiously tried to get closer.

Raising his hands to her breasts, Dash closed his fingertips over her nipples. Very, very gently he teased, pinched, rolled.

Moaning, she broke away, bit her bottom lip and turned for the stairs.

Dash hiked up his jeans and followed. “In a hurry?”

“Yes.”

The spiral staircase put her at a disadvantage as she climbed the treads ahead of him. He nipped at her bottom, managed to stroke her a few times, and by the time they reached the spacious bedroom she was gasping.

As soon as her feet hit the floor she turned to face him and whisked off her T-shirt, effectively making him pause.

Staring at him, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and skimmed them down. Because of her elbow, because she still felt the effects even though she’d deny it, the striptease wasn’t as smooth as it might have been.

Didn’t matter.

Dash wanted to devour her, but he forced himself to stand back. “Lay down on the bed.”

Without question she turned to do just that...and he added, “On your stomach.”

He heard her soft groan as she went to her knees on the bed, almost stopping his heart with the tantalizing view, before stretching out. She kept her healing arm at her side, but folded the other under her head.

Never taking his gaze off her, Dash stripped off his jeans. Emotional overload, scalding lust—the combination left him devastated.

He walked around the foot of the bed, surveying her from each side. The sides of her breasts swelled out from under her, her back dipped down to a tiny waist, then flared up to that round, sexy rump. Shapely legs, crossed at the ankles.

She was sleek and smooth and strong as only a woman could be.

As he walked, she turned her head, keeping him in sight. “Do you have a condom?”

“A boxful.” He was hard again, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to play as much or as minutely as he wanted. He needed her a second time, maybe even a third, before they could rest. But he wouldn’t forget himself, not this time. Not ever again. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

He sat beside her on the bed, trailed a hand down her graceful back.

She purred, and said, “Wasn’t all your fault. I know better.” Without his direction, she turned to her side, propped her head up on a fist. “Odds are it’ll be okay.”

Would a baby be so horrible?

That thought stunned him, scared him a little, and made him feel desperate. Because no, for him, it wouldn’t be terrible at all. Just the opposite.

Coming down over her, Dash took her to her back and covered her mouth with his. A baby.

He nudged her lips open and licked his tongue inside, going deeper and deeper. He didn’t want to analyze his own reaction too much because it made no sense. He still didn’t know how Margo felt about him, if she cared even half as much as he did.

Which would be tough, given he loved her more than life.

Cupping her face, he kissed her until he stole her breath while settling his body over hers, one knee between her legs, opening her.

She kissed him back, just as wild.

She lifted her belly up against him and he realized he was, in fact, on dangerous territory.

Time to get it together.

He raised up, not far, but enough to separate their mouths. “Does your arm pain you?”

“No.” She tried to take his mouth again.

Staying out of reach, he caught her wrists and, watching her closely for any signs of discomfort, pressed her hands to the mattress. “Okay?”

She adjusted, moving her left arm to a more comfortable angle. “What are you going to do?”

“Kiss you all over until you come.”

She drew in a shuddering breath. “My arm is fine.”

“Margo.” He opened his mouth on her throat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then hurry it up.” Squirming under him, she breathed, “And please don’t tease too much. Honest to God, Dash, today, right now, I just need you.”

He searched her face, knew she meant it, and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her mouth. “All right.” And with that, he left a damp trail of soft biting kisses down her neck to her breasts, where he sucked softly—then not so softly—on each nipple. He didn’t touch her between her legs, wanting the anticipation to build.

Leaving her nipples wet and tight, he moved down more, licking over her ribs until she twisted away, then over her flat belly and her cute navel, down to her hip bones. “Ticklish?”

“On fire.”

He smiled, and nibbled his way to the inside of her thigh. She tried to part her legs, but with him still resting on her, she couldn’t. He breathed her in, loving the heated scent of her excitement. Her skin was so silky, he couldn’t stop sucking her against his teeth, marking her in various places.

When she breathed raggedly, shaking and moaning, he shifted, lifting her legs up and over his shoulders, holding her bottom in his hands, burrowing his mouth against her, his tongue seeking—

“Ahhh...Dash.” She arched up.

He licked over her, past the silky wet lips, into her.

Her hands came down to tangle in his hair, holding him closer, stinging in her intensity. “Stop playing.”

He licked again, this time up and over her clitoris.

She cried out, her heels pressing into his back.

Nice. He loved getting her like this, pushing her into a climax. Carefully he closed his teeth on her, holding her for the wicked flick of his tongue, a soft sucking, playing his tongue over her—and far too quickly she came.

He waited only until her shudders eased before raising up to grab a condom, rolling it on, then moving over her again.

Gathering her close, he kissed her parted lips, her dewy cheekbones, her temple. “Look at me, honey.”

Dark, heavy lashes lifted, showing her slumberous, sated eyes. Smiling lazily, she focused on him. “That was—”

He pressed into her. There was no going slow, no building her need. He swept her away with him by sheer, raw sexuality. Each hard thrust rocked the bed, faster and faster.

He knew the second she caught up, when her own need escalated. Her knees came around him, high on his waist, her ankles locking at the small of his back. He felt her nails on his shoulders. She turned her face and, trying to muffle her cries, bit his chest.

God, yes. “Now, baby.” He needed her with him. Holding back became nearly impossible, even painful. “Now.”

Her inner muscles squeezed him, milking him as her second orgasm overtook her, and Dash lost it. Going to his elbows, his gaze glued to her face, he joined her in a near violent release.

How did it keep getting better and better? As the wild thundering of his heart slowed and his clenched muscles eased again, he sank back against her.

With every breath he inhaled the combined scents of their bodies, the scent of sex and sweat and satisfaction. Slowly, he rolled so that she was on top, his hands cupping her ass, keeping her right where he wanted her—as close as she could be.

As if that suited her just fine, she sprawled over him, her hand on his heart. Around a yawn, she asked, “How do you feel about a nap?”

It took all of Dash’s concentration not to crush her with a tight hug. It was even harder not to say aloud how he felt. Repeatedly he stroked her, kissed her shoulder, the top of her head.

He turned, putting her to her back again. Seeing her like this was such a gift. He kissed her. “Go ahead. I’ll get rid of the condom and be right back.”

She stretched, smiled and closed her eyes. “Don’t take too long.”

When Dash returned only a minute later, she was sleeping. But as he gathered her close, she snuggled in...right where she belonged.