nothing as she recalled that fateful night and what had happened to her the night she met Dax. What had almost happened.
Shit, I have a knack for getting into fucking trouble, don’t I?
It was interesting how the events of that time in her life played out in her mind’s eye with no emotional reaction. Until she remembered the driving force behind her little foray into biker bars. Looking for Mickey.
Mouse.
Rhee had gone stock-still, frozen on the porch. Dax nudged her, Sirena sleeping hard on his shoulder.
“Sure you’re okay, darlin’?”
“Yeah. Um…yeah.” Rhee shook herself mentally. Being back here re-ignited her intense desire to find Mickey. She studied Dax as he held Sirena in his arms. Her little girl wasn’t so little anymore. She was in preschool. She wore her big girl panties.
Now, it’s time for me to put mine on. I can’t be afraid of what I might find anymore. I won’t fall apart. No matter what…I can’t.
“This house…reminds me of my sister. Of how I ended up here. I need to find her, Dax. Even though it’s been years and she’s more than likely….” Rhee cut herself off, unwilling to the say words aloud.
“I need to know what happened to her. And the longer I’m in this house—this town—the more it’s going to drive me fucking batshit crazy not to know.”
Dax managed to get his key in the door and Sirena mumbled against his shoulder, reminding Rhee that they were all standing on the porch instead of inside the warm house.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Rhee turned the knob and let him walk in ahead of her. They rounded the corner to the guest room—the room she had woken up in four years ago to find sexy as sin Dax Jamison standing in the next room.
She smiled to herself, remembering her initial confusion followed by the almost immediate attraction to the man. Her first thoughts, if she recalled correctly, were:
“Where am I?” and “ What the hell is Charlie Hunnam doing here?!”
Dax flicked on the lights but kept them dim. As her eyes adjusted, Rhee couldn’t gasped softly, with surprise and delight. Her memory of the guest room was fuzzy at best but the space had been transformed. The walls were…pink?
Rhee took a closer look. Actually, they were pink with chocolate brown trim. Pink gingham curtains adorned the windows. A white, wooden toddler bed graced one wall. Rhee scanned the rest of the room in disbelief. There was a dark brown rocker, a bookshelf filled with books, and a basket of toys and dolls on the floor.
She was speechless.
Dax grinned and placed Sirena carefully in the small bed. He pulled the pink and brown covers over their daughter and then placed his fingers to his lips in that universal gesture that meant, “Be quiet.”
He ushered her from the room. “We can look more in the morning.”
“Who?”
“Wince, mostly. I think Gray helped too.”
Rhee burst into giggles at the thought of grizzled old Gray making a bed with pink and brown sheets. “I can’t believe this!”
Dax pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, the feel of his lips on her own igniting a sweet hot fire that thrummed through her blood and centered between her legs.
“Believe it, baby. Not sure how long we’ll be stateside, but I wanted Sirena to feel at home here.”
“That’s so…sweet.” And it was a fucking turn on.
“I think that might be the first time anyone ever called me that.”
His voice was gruff but she could hear the male pride lacing his tone.
“Thank you.”
“Actions speak louder than words, little girl.”
With that, Dax picked her up bodily and carried her into the bedroom, where he proceeded to remove her clothing piece by piece, kissing the sensitized flesh he uncovered with agonizing, deliberate slowness. He had her begging in five minutes flat. Afterwards, as Rhee stretched, her hand on her belly—on that maybe baby—she wondered if his intent was to wear her out so that she could sleep.
Well, it worked. Sated and
Shit, I have a knack for getting into fucking trouble, don’t I?
It was interesting how the events of that time in her life played out in her mind’s eye with no emotional reaction. Until she remembered the driving force behind her little foray into biker bars. Looking for Mickey.
Mouse.
Rhee had gone stock-still, frozen on the porch. Dax nudged her, Sirena sleeping hard on his shoulder.
“Sure you’re okay, darlin’?”
“Yeah. Um…yeah.” Rhee shook herself mentally. Being back here re-ignited her intense desire to find Mickey. She studied Dax as he held Sirena in his arms. Her little girl wasn’t so little anymore. She was in preschool. She wore her big girl panties.
Now, it’s time for me to put mine on. I can’t be afraid of what I might find anymore. I won’t fall apart. No matter what…I can’t.
“This house…reminds me of my sister. Of how I ended up here. I need to find her, Dax. Even though it’s been years and she’s more than likely….” Rhee cut herself off, unwilling to the say words aloud.
“I need to know what happened to her. And the longer I’m in this house—this town—the more it’s going to drive me fucking batshit crazy not to know.”
Dax managed to get his key in the door and Sirena mumbled against his shoulder, reminding Rhee that they were all standing on the porch instead of inside the warm house.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Rhee turned the knob and let him walk in ahead of her. They rounded the corner to the guest room—the room she had woken up in four years ago to find sexy as sin Dax Jamison standing in the next room.
She smiled to herself, remembering her initial confusion followed by the almost immediate attraction to the man. Her first thoughts, if she recalled correctly, were:
“Where am I?” and “ What the hell is Charlie Hunnam doing here?!”
Dax flicked on the lights but kept them dim. As her eyes adjusted, Rhee couldn’t gasped softly, with surprise and delight. Her memory of the guest room was fuzzy at best but the space had been transformed. The walls were…pink?
Rhee took a closer look. Actually, they were pink with chocolate brown trim. Pink gingham curtains adorned the windows. A white, wooden toddler bed graced one wall. Rhee scanned the rest of the room in disbelief. There was a dark brown rocker, a bookshelf filled with books, and a basket of toys and dolls on the floor.
She was speechless.
Dax grinned and placed Sirena carefully in the small bed. He pulled the pink and brown covers over their daughter and then placed his fingers to his lips in that universal gesture that meant, “Be quiet.”
He ushered her from the room. “We can look more in the morning.”
“Who?”
“Wince, mostly. I think Gray helped too.”
Rhee burst into giggles at the thought of grizzled old Gray making a bed with pink and brown sheets. “I can’t believe this!”
Dax pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, the feel of his lips on her own igniting a sweet hot fire that thrummed through her blood and centered between her legs.
“Believe it, baby. Not sure how long we’ll be stateside, but I wanted Sirena to feel at home here.”
“That’s so…sweet.” And it was a fucking turn on.
“I think that might be the first time anyone ever called me that.”
His voice was gruff but she could hear the male pride lacing his tone.
“Thank you.”
“Actions speak louder than words, little girl.”
With that, Dax picked her up bodily and carried her into the bedroom, where he proceeded to remove her clothing piece by piece, kissing the sensitized flesh he uncovered with agonizing, deliberate slowness. He had her begging in five minutes flat. Afterwards, as Rhee stretched, her hand on her belly—on that maybe baby—she wondered if his intent was to wear her out so that she could sleep.
Well, it worked. Sated and
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