destination. He treated everything in his life like a business transaction, and, she’d found out recently, that included sex.
She didn’t want him to respect her, and she sure as hell didn’t want him to worry about her feelings. “Don’t be nice to me. That’s not what this is about.”
He stilled and was quiet for so long, she thought that maybe he hadn’t heard her, that he’d drifted off. But then he said, “You think I should treat you like a whore? We have a history. I care about you, whether you like it or not, whether you welcome it or not.”
She bit her lip against the unwanted emotion bombarding her, had no idea how to reply.
He didn’t say anything else after that, just lay there holding her. Like she mattered. Like he cared. Her stomach flipped, and not necessarily in a good way. The urge to get up and run was almost overwhelming, but she knew he’d do what he’d threatened and come after her this time. She couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk his sisters seeing them together.
Dammit. How would she get to sleep now?
Her mind turned to the garage, to the job she loved. The reason she was lying here with Deke in the first place. A couple weeks ago, Piper had put together a quote for a potential customer. A customer they wanted, badly. He still hadn’t made a decision, and all three of them were on tenterhooks while they waited. The guy usually took his cars to R.I.P. Classic, the biggest car restoration business in Miami. If they managed to take that job from R.I.P.—well, it could mean big things for them. Had the potential to get West Restoration’s name out there.
Which meant more work coming their way. It also meant proving Deacon wrong.
“You’re still thinking,” he mumbled into her hair, arm tightening around her waist. “Sleep, woman.”
Dammit. Closing her eyes, she pretended to do just that. At least that way there was no chance of further conversation…
…
She woke curled in a tight ball, screaming.
Strong arms were wrapped around her, warm lips pressed against her temple. “Shh, I’m here.”
“Get the fuck off me!” The angry words burst from her throat, remnants from the nightmare still swimming in her head.
“Alex, calm down.” Deacon’s voice broke through the terror, the sadness, the pounding blood rushing though her ears. His strong arms restrained her as she fought the invisible hands trying to take her from the people she loved, his deep voice low as he whispered in an attempt to soothe and comfort.
She fought the tight feeling in the back of her throat, the sob desperate to escape, and tried to pull herself together. She didn’t want his sympathy, didn’t want to need him, to need anyone.
“You still have them.” His voice was gentle, guarded. “I wondered.”
There had been no secrets from the West family. It wasn’t like she could hide it. Deacon had been living there when she started having sleepovers with Piper and Rusty. He’d woken in the night, like the rest of the house, to her screaming bloody murder.
“I hadn’t been, not often anyway.” Not until you forced your way back into my life.
“Have you tried—”
“Don’t. Just leave it, okay?”
He slid his hand across her shoulder to the back of her neck. “Come here.”
It felt good to be touched, better than good, and she went to him without thought, letting him comfort her despite knowing what a bad idea it was.
Going back to sleep wasn’t going to happen, so she just lay beside him and listened to his slow, steady breaths, the faint thump of his heart against her back as he curled around her.
The next thing she knew, the sun was filtering in through the window and Deacon’s warm hand was coasting down her belly to her hip.
“Morning.” His voice was sleep rough and sexy as hell.
She couldn’t believe it; she’d actually fallen back to sleep. “Hey.”
His fingers moved between her thighs, and he lifted her leg over his, opening her for him. Fingers dipping
She didn’t want him to respect her, and she sure as hell didn’t want him to worry about her feelings. “Don’t be nice to me. That’s not what this is about.”
He stilled and was quiet for so long, she thought that maybe he hadn’t heard her, that he’d drifted off. But then he said, “You think I should treat you like a whore? We have a history. I care about you, whether you like it or not, whether you welcome it or not.”
She bit her lip against the unwanted emotion bombarding her, had no idea how to reply.
He didn’t say anything else after that, just lay there holding her. Like she mattered. Like he cared. Her stomach flipped, and not necessarily in a good way. The urge to get up and run was almost overwhelming, but she knew he’d do what he’d threatened and come after her this time. She couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk his sisters seeing them together.
Dammit. How would she get to sleep now?
Her mind turned to the garage, to the job she loved. The reason she was lying here with Deke in the first place. A couple weeks ago, Piper had put together a quote for a potential customer. A customer they wanted, badly. He still hadn’t made a decision, and all three of them were on tenterhooks while they waited. The guy usually took his cars to R.I.P. Classic, the biggest car restoration business in Miami. If they managed to take that job from R.I.P.—well, it could mean big things for them. Had the potential to get West Restoration’s name out there.
Which meant more work coming their way. It also meant proving Deacon wrong.
“You’re still thinking,” he mumbled into her hair, arm tightening around her waist. “Sleep, woman.”
Dammit. Closing her eyes, she pretended to do just that. At least that way there was no chance of further conversation…
…
She woke curled in a tight ball, screaming.
Strong arms were wrapped around her, warm lips pressed against her temple. “Shh, I’m here.”
“Get the fuck off me!” The angry words burst from her throat, remnants from the nightmare still swimming in her head.
“Alex, calm down.” Deacon’s voice broke through the terror, the sadness, the pounding blood rushing though her ears. His strong arms restrained her as she fought the invisible hands trying to take her from the people she loved, his deep voice low as he whispered in an attempt to soothe and comfort.
She fought the tight feeling in the back of her throat, the sob desperate to escape, and tried to pull herself together. She didn’t want his sympathy, didn’t want to need him, to need anyone.
“You still have them.” His voice was gentle, guarded. “I wondered.”
There had been no secrets from the West family. It wasn’t like she could hide it. Deacon had been living there when she started having sleepovers with Piper and Rusty. He’d woken in the night, like the rest of the house, to her screaming bloody murder.
“I hadn’t been, not often anyway.” Not until you forced your way back into my life.
“Have you tried—”
“Don’t. Just leave it, okay?”
He slid his hand across her shoulder to the back of her neck. “Come here.”
It felt good to be touched, better than good, and she went to him without thought, letting him comfort her despite knowing what a bad idea it was.
Going back to sleep wasn’t going to happen, so she just lay beside him and listened to his slow, steady breaths, the faint thump of his heart against her back as he curled around her.
The next thing she knew, the sun was filtering in through the window and Deacon’s warm hand was coasting down her belly to her hip.
“Morning.” His voice was sleep rough and sexy as hell.
She couldn’t believe it; she’d actually fallen back to sleep. “Hey.”
His fingers moved between her thighs, and he lifted her leg over his, opening her for him. Fingers dipping
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