“Hi,” I say softly.
He doesn’t touch me.
He’s stiff, unyielding, displeased, I decide, and for the first time ever with Dash, I have second thoughts about my boldness. I start to pull away.
He catches me to him. “What’s going on, Allie?”
I know then that he’s read into me being here, seen something in my actions that doesn’t exist. “I don’t want to be here, Dash. I wanted to just get this over with so I could be done with this place.”
“You sure about that?”
There is a hint of what I can only dare call insecurity behind that question, that blows me away. How can Dash Black be insecure? And yet, he is. He so is and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the fight last night, or it’s something Tyler said to him. Maybe it’s just me in this house, but the why really doesn’t matter. What he feels, does. “That part where I admitted to falling way too hard for you, you do remember that, right?”
His fingers tangle in my hair and he drags my mouth to his. “I thought you were running, Allie.”
“Because I’m good at it?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“But you don’t want me to?”
“No. No, I do not want you to run. I also don’t want you here without me.”
His mouth crashes down on mine, the taste of him pure possession. His hands are all over my body. Mine are all over his. Before I can even process what’s happening, I’m naked and he is not. I’m pressed to the door, my leg at his hip, his thick erection driving inside me.
It’s wild and hot, and there is nothing but the hunger between us, the pump of his body, the arch of mine. On some level, it feels as if Dash is claiming me right here in Tyler’s house, for a reason, as if he feels he’ll know. It’s a thought that could take me no place good, but I can’t go there, not now when Dash is driving into me, over and over. Not when his eyes are on my breasts, devouring my naked body. The collision of our bodies is fast, intense, wildfire sparked by our emotions, I don’t even fully understand. When it’s over, Dash eases my leg down, strokes my hair back, and tilts my mouth to his. “I don’t want you to come here again without me.”
I notice the way he phrases this. He tells me what he wants, but he doesn’t demand I comply. I’m not sure why this house is such a trigger for him, but it doesn’t matter. I give him what he wants because it’s also what I want. “I don’t want to come here at all. And I won’t come without you.”
He scoops me up, carries me to the bathroom, setting me down in front of the sink. “I’ll get your clothes.” He disappears and returns quickly, setting my clothes on the counter.
Dash’s cellphone rings. “Jesus,” he murmurs, glancing at his phone. “It’s Bella. Again. I’m telling her this is the quota for twenty-four hours.” He turns away and answers the call.
There’s a sense of unease in me again, which has nothing at all to do with him taking a call from his sister, but is most likely a component of the dread I feel at the idea of telling him I went hunting for Allison today. I quickly dress, deciding that clothing makes all things less awkward. I flatten my hair presently standing on end and exit to the bedroom to find Dash sitting on the bed, holding the journal.
He lifts it in the air. “What is this, Allie?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dash holds onto the journal, her journal, Allison’s journal, or so I believe, and guilt stabs at me, at my invasion of her privacy I can do nothing but justify with good intentions. “I found it while I was looking for my wallet. It fell behind the nightstand.” I move toward him, his unreadable, heavy gaze following me until I sit down next to him. “I went to the animal shelter where she volunteers today.”
I don’t have to explain who I mean. We both know I’m talking about Allison. “How do you even know where she volunteers, Allie?” he challenges.
“Instagram.”
“Of course,” he says dryly. “Instagram.”
“If we as human beings believe another human being is in trouble, it’s an obligation to act. It’s basic decency. While I was there, a man came looking for her. He gave me the creeps, Dash. He wouldn’t give me his name.”
“But you gave him yours?”
“Yes, but—”
Before I know his intent, he’s on his feet, pulling me with him. “Damn it, Allie, why are you putting yourself in the line of fire? Why?”
My defenses prickle, while that damn journal is right there, between us, in more ways than one. “Don’t raise your voice at me, Dash.”