MY PROTECTOR: The Valves MC Page 4

  “Wow,” he whispered after a while. I looked up. “That’s some healthy eating, right there!”

  “Mmhmm,” I mumbled, mouth full of delicious food. “Oh, sorry. Do you want a bite, perhaps?” I was in very good spirits and felt like joking around. My offer came on a more mocking tone than it should have been and Dawson raised his hands.

  “No, thank you. I’m sorry I doubted you before. Now, I’m wondering if that’s enough,” he said, pointing at the half-eaten meal before me.

  I reached for my coffee and washed the last bite down. Searching for his eyes, I looked for the reason why he decided to see me.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I shrugged. “Just wondering why you came.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I told you. Can’t a man want to see one particular woman sometime?”

  I felt blood rushing to my cheeks as I imagined every possible interpretation of those words. He had a way of getting me hot and bothered with the simplest of things: a glance, a crooked smile, seemingly innocuous words.

  “I hope it wasn’t a bad time,” he followed and I shook my head. “Good. Talking about seeing you, how would you feel if I changed our agreement? For the weekend, not completely.”

  Just a hint of panic stirred my thoughts around. Was he suggesting we drop our understanding? I tried to play it cool. “Are you planning a trip with Ginger?”

  “No. More like, mixing duty and pleasure.”

  I regarded him quizzically.

  He went on, “I was thinking that, maybe, you’d like to babysit Ginger at my place this weekend. I think she’d like it more. Don’t you think?”

  I squinted. “Yes…It does seem better for her,” I agreed, still suspicious of his motives.

  “God, you look in doubt,” he laughed.

  That’s because I am, I said to myself, then aloud, “Maybe. What’s the pleasure part of it?”

  “Ah!” He leaned on the table, closing in on me. “How about we mix my part of the bargain with yours? I usually come home Sunday night anyway, but I can’t take Ginger back that late. Now, imagine if you were sleeping at my place.”

  I was beginning to see where he was getting at and, frankly, I liked the idea. “Okay,” I said. I didn’t want to give him the chance to change his mind. What was there to discuss anyway?

  He, apparently, had something further to say. “Well, that was easy. How about you come around eight, Friday evening?”

  “And lose a whole afternoon with Ginger?”

  He shifted in his seat. “Yeah, sorry about that. But earlier than eight I can’t do it.”

  “What? Opening the door for me? It’s not like we haven't done this before. At my place, but still.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t do it. Will you be okay with that?”

  I looked at my food. What was with him? I couldn’t really get why he needed the change just to make me have Ginger later. Now, I did like the idea of seeing a bit more of him, but his request was bugging me. “Why?” I asked, picking at my food.

  “What?” He was avoiding my question and I didn't like it.

  But how could I push it? It wasn't like I had any real basis for demanding full disclosure. I felt how the cheerfulness of the day was sipping through the cracks, leaving me with a hint of a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “Come on, Mari. Please don't be like this. It’s to do with my job, nothing personal. That’s why I can make this change this weekend. If I didn't want to see more of you I wouldn’t have suggested you sleep Sunday night at my place. I want to find you there when I come home.”

  “You do?” I whispered, my butterflies already dancing in circles.

  “Yes!” He sounded as sure as a man can be and all it was forgotten on my part. I grinned at him and he finally smiled back. He stood, stretching his impressing frame and reached a hand for mine. “I believe all is settled, then, Miss Bennett?”

  I took his hand. “Indeed, Mr. Holt.”

  Since my appetite was gone, I left almost half of my lunch untouched. He grabbed it and stuffed it in his mouth in just a couple of bites. “I told you I love the food here,” he explained himself under my inquiring gaze. I laughed seeing his serious expression. He did really love the food.

  We walked back to school slowly, his arm around my shoulders, like we were promenading. I kissed him goodbye and watched as he went to his motorcycle, mounted it and rode away in the sound of the sexiest engine roar.

  “God, he’s sizzling,” I sighed and turned to get back to work.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I stretched my arms, semi-awake. I wasn’t in my bed and, for a second, I startled. Then I smelled his scent and relaxed. I reached to my side to grab onto him but I found an empty space. Sitting up, I looked for him.

  It was still dark outside and, grabbing the closest phone, I learned it was just past two in the morning. Assuming he was in the bathroom, I laid down again and when he didn’t come to bed for some time, I rose. Frowning, I grabbed his shirt and wrapped myself in it, then went searching through his house.

  I didn’t need to look much. Dawson was in the living room, sitting on the couch, phone at his ear. “No, that doesn’t fly with me,” he said before looking up and seeing me. I smiled and he looked unpleasantly surprised. He ended the conversation abruptly and stood up. “Hey, baby! Did I wake you up?”

  I shook my head. He threw the phone on the couch and walked towards me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rose on my toes to kiss him. Something was bugging me but it wasn’t enough to make me allocate more of my attention to it. He relaxed under my lips and swirled me around, which made me giggle. Once free of his tempting hands, I stepped towards the kitchen, gesturing for some coffee. I wasn’t in the mood for any more sleep and he seemed to agree.

  He guided me to my chair and began preparations while I watched. I loved seeing him do domestic chores. He was sexy, confident and there was something about him that made me feel safe. I was lost in thought, eyes glassy, when he presented me with a mug of steaming coffee. I looked up.

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and sipped from his mug. This single insignificant move was accentuated by delicious muscles coiling under his tan skin, emphasizing the dark tattoos adorning his chest and arms. I trailed them with my eyes, images of when I first saw him flooding my mind.

  He had just moved in right next to me and was coming and going on his motorcycle. At first, the noise had annoyed me and, one day, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. I had gone outside and seen him working on that beast of a machine he seemed particularly proud of. The weather had been scorching hot and his skin had been covered in sparkling drops of sweat, giving his tattoos the illusion they were made of precious metals. I remembered being struck by that beauty, forgetting all about my initial intentions. He had looked up and smiled and that was the first time my butterflies had been woken up by him.

  After that, I had looked for every excuse to be on my porch whenever he was outside. I had noticed he was looking at me often and whenever I had confronted him he never looked away. He was daring and looked like trouble and I wanted that.

  When I learned that my new student was his daughter I had been hurting. I had thought he was married and when I learned he wasn’t I wanted to throw a party.

  I laughed at the memory.

  “What is it, baby?” he asked, now sitting in front of me.

  “You’ll laugh at me,” I said, blushing.

  “Sure. What is it?”

  I made a shocked face and mock-slapped his thigh. He smiled again and sipped some more coffee, seemingly unaware of what he said.

  “Yes?”

  “I was thinking of the time I found out Ginger was your daughter,” I started.

  “And you thought I was married, right?” he remarked calmly.

  “Yes. How did you…?”

  “You don’t need to be Freud to notice that. You looked miserable for a couple of days.”

  “What? You saw that?”

>   He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I guessed the reason and I could’ve just told you I wasn’t but, I don’t know, I just liked you suffering for a while.” He looked dead serious saying it.

  “Why?” I asked, visibly confused.

  “Because you were teasing me all the time. And I wanted you. And I guess I was feeling bad for not asking you out earlier, I guess.”

  “What? I never teased you!”

  “Yes, you did. Maybe unconsciously, but it got to me. Always seeing you out, all those dresses you wore. You were making me mad.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Ask you out?” I nodded. “Because I was doing recon. I wanted to see if you had a boyfriend.”

  “You could’ve just asked, you know?”

  “Yeah. But you don’t ask women if they’re easy enough to sleep with you right then and there.”

  Honestly shocked, I slapped his thigh again. This time it wasn’t playfully. “What a thing to say!”

  “See?” He started laughing.

  I couldn’t be upset with him. I laughed, too. Then I rose and strolled back into the living room where I laid on the couch and turned the TV on. Something was pushing into my back and I shifted to see what it was. His phone. I laughed and placed on the coffee table but something caught my eye and the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right came back. I looked carefully at the table. At first, I couldn’t see it. I had to squint. That was it! That wasn’t his phone. What an odd thing, I thought. “Why do you have two phones, baby?” I asked, when he sat next to me. I was genuinely curious.

  He regarded me with something that looked like nervousness. “What?” I got the strange feeling he was stalling. I pointed at the phone on the table. “I…I don’t have two phones…” he mumbled and I frowned.

  “Yes, you do.” I remembered distinctly that I had seen his phone next to the bed when I woke up tonight. In fact, I thought I had checked the time on it. “Yes, you do. Your other phone is in the bedroom.”

  “Oh, that one. This one! Yes, you’re right. I do have two phones. This is from work.”

  “And you don’t remember having it?”

  “I do. It’s just that I don’t have it all the time. I’m not used to it so I don’t consider it mine. Sorry, baby.”

  I laughed. “How can you not?”

  He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “You know men are not as smart as women, right?”

  “What?”

  “Or so they say. I know I’m scatterbrained.”

  “No, you’re not. You think too low of yourself, Dawson. You’re a perfectly fine man and I like you the way you are. Besides, you’re way neater that I am. And more organized.” I shook my head in amazement. “I just can’t believe you forgot you have another phone,” I explained further, seeing the puzzlement in his eyes.

  He relaxed and laughed, leaning back. “Yeah. I never gave the issue that much thought. When my phone rings, I pick up. I just look at the caller ID, not the actual phone. That might be it.”

  I giggled, cuddling in his extended arm. He reached for the remote in my lap and flicked purposefully through channels. Giving me a naughty look, he finally settled on a porn program and my eyes widened in shock.

  “Late night TV,” he shrugged and turned his attention to the screen. The promising moans of the actress compelled me to look, too. A burly man was having rough anal sex with her and I felt my core warm up. I looked at Dawson instinctively and he returned my lustful gaze.

  His hand trailed up my thigh, my body relaxing in response to his touch. I made room for his fingers to run along the inside of my leg, and he took the lead and settled on my pussy. I wasn’t wearing any panties from our night of passion and he gasped at the discovery. I pushed into his hand but his face lightened up with an idea.

  “You know something?” he asked, smiling wide. I regarded him quizzically and he kissed my lips then pulled his hand away. I wanted it back and he must’ve seen that. “Do you want to fall in love with me?” he continued, as a way to explain himself.

  “I…What?”

  “What? It’s a normal question,” he laughed.

  “Sure…But, do you want me to?” I was nervous waiting for his answer. All I could think of was how this was it, the moment I might lose all hope, as superficial as it might have been, and I dreaded that more than I wanted to admit.

  He watched my face with interest; I could see that. I tried to keep my expression as blank as I could. I didn’t want him to sweet-talk me into hoping for more if there was no hope. I hated that I felt that way and I hated him for springing the question on me like that.

  “Yes.”

  That was it. One word and it send my body in a frenzy; my head started spinning, my heart entered into a race with my hormones and my stomach could barely contain the butterflies within. I saw him lean over to me and felt his fingers on my jaw. Gently, he kissed my mouth shut and pulled me into a sweet embrace. I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to try to make me fall in love with him. I already was.

  After a while, he whispered, “So, do you want to?”

  I nodded in his arms, not able to bear the distance of pulling back and answering properly.

  “Then let's put some distance between us.” I froze. What’s he asking of me? I thought, afraid all was just a ploy to break up with me, that he had his share and had had enough of the sweet preschool teacher. Maybe I was too much, maybe I came on too strong, I argued with myself.

  “Come on, go to your side of the couch,” he instructed and my heart melted.

  I wanted to cry for my stupidity and I took a moment too long to break our hug, afraid I couldn’t be able to keep my embarrassing tears at bay. I slid slowly and leaned on the armrest opposite him.

  “Now, let’s watch TV,” he said, already looking ahead.

  I followed his eyes and found the same porn channel. “It’s just porn,” I managed to say.

  He nodded. “I read somewhere that some smart doctors did an experiment on …”

  “On porn?”

  “And love.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. I believe it all started with someone saying that anyone can find love, or anyone can fall in love with anyone. Or something like that.”

  “And they took porn as an example?”

  “No,” he laughed. “They took people, all sorts of people, and paired them to watch porn.”

  He had turned sideways to me, his arm on the back of the couch, a crooked smile on his lips.

  “I don’t get it,” I admitted. But I did like him looking at me like that, sexual moans in the background. I wanted him terribly and I was beginning to see what the experiment meant, but I didn’t want to say it. I knew he would look back at the TV if I hinted towards any degree of understanding.

  “They say it has something to do with hormones and with being excited and with other things like that. Did I say they were smart doctors?”

  I laughed. “Aren’t all doctors supposed to be smart?” I asked, wanting to prolong the sweet sight of him facing me.

  He waved it off, glancing at the screen for a second. The burly man had lifted the woman in the air, sliding her ass on his cock with no intervention of her own. My thighs squeezed themselves together and I shifted in my seat, which got Dawson’s attention.

  “Anyway, because they got horny, they said it made them fall in love.”

  “And you want that with me? Now?”

  “Hey, I didn’t plan on it. But, if it works…” His smile spoke volumes. He wanted me to be in love with him. He wanted me to love him? The thought gave me shivers.

  “Okay,” I mumbled, my voice raspy with arousal. I heard him chuckle but I didn’t dare to look his way; I knew I was blushing.

  “Anything to get you to fall for me, baby.”

  I couldn't help but shiver more violently than I wanted. It felt like my body was giving up on following my brain’s orders, a hormonal mutiny reversing the way things should work.


  His breath on my neck startled me, but he calmed my heart rate down with a gentle kiss just under my jaw. “Do you want to fall in love with me, baby?” he whispered and my answer came without my consent, as a mingled moan more than human speech.

  “Yes…”

  “Then, let’s start.” He pulled back, leaving me looking blankly at the TV screen, seeing moving colors that my brain was incapable of turning into complete images.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  His experiment had failed.