Page 73 of Rescuing Brinley

He moved then, kind of picking her up and scooting her down and hovering over her as she lay on her back on the mattress. “I haven’t thanked you properly for everything you’ve done for me this week.”

“You’ve thanked me several times,” she protested.

His hand moved down and slipped under her shirt, moving upward until his palm covered one of her breasts. She couldn’t help but arch into him.

“Not the way I should’ve thanked you.”

Her heart kicked into high gear, and she squirmed a little under him. Her panties immediately got wet as she imagined all the fun ways he could thank her.

Dash grinned. “I’m going to worship you, treat you like my princess, just like Mom ordered me to.”

“Can you not bring your mom into this right about now?” Brinley suggested.

Dash laughed, and it was the first time she didn’t sense any sadness in the sound.

“Right. Noted. Arms over your head, Brinley. I’m in the mood to take my time. It’s been way too long since I’ve heard and felt you explode. I’m gonna get you off once with my fingers, once with my mouth, and then again around my cock.”

“Dash…yes…please.” Brinley felt desperate for his touch. She lifted her arms and he removed her shirt.

Later—much, much later—when she was as limp as a week-old lettuce leaf and lying half on and half off Dash, trying to catch her breath, she remembered what he’d said earlier. About losing anyone else he loved. A yearning grew within her, so deep and almost painful, it made her jerk.

“Shhhh, I’ve got you,” Dash said sleepily.

Of course he did. He’d been protecting her from the moment he’d seen her burst out of that conference center in Fiji.

She was too chicken to ask him if he meant it, if he really loved her, so instead she simply closed her eyes and relaxed against him. He’d said he wanted to spend his life with her, so she knew he wasn’t with her for some kind of fling or anything. But she yearned to hear him say the words. Words she’d heard so seldom in her life. Certainly not from her family.

Having the feeling someone loved you and hearing them say it to your face were two completely different things. She would’ve said the words to him right then and there, but if he seemed the least bit disconcerted by her declaration, it would cut deep.

So she kept quiet, ignoring the advice Dash himself had given to the group gathered to honor his mom’s life. They’d have a chance to share their feelings later. Time was on their side. There was no need to rush into anything.

A little voice inside her head told her that she was being foolish, tempting fate, but she quashed it. She fell asleep cuddled up next to Dash, his steady heartbeat in her ear, feeling safe in his arms.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Unknown: Bitch! You’re an ugly cunt who could only get laid if you paid someone or if you had a bag over your head. I’m going to ruin you! Don’t think I can’t. I’ve already started spreading the word about you. About how cheap your shit is. How horribly you treat your clients. Mark my words, you’re going down. Fuck you!

Brinley sighed as she read the most recent text from Tamika. She and Dash had been back from Arizona for a week, and she was more than tired of the messages she was still receiving from the pissed-off woman. It made no sense. She could find a hundred other designers to work with, why she was so obsessed with Brinley was confusing as hell.

It was time to do something about it. She had the file with all the emails Tamika had been sending, and all the saved voicemails and texts. She needed to go to the cops and see if there was anything they could do.

Dash would be relieved. Brinley could tell he was worried for her, which felt great. For so long, no one other than Cypress had ever truly cared about anything going on in her life.

Ever since they’d gotten back from Arizona, things with Dash had seemed…different. She’d caught him staring at her more than once with an expression she couldn’t decipher. He was just as attentive as he’d been before, but now, instead of asking if he could come over or if she’d come to his place in the evening, he said things like, “What do you want for dinner tonight?” or, “What time is good for me to come over?”

It seemed a given they would spend their nights together, and it felt good. Really good.

“Is that another message from the bitch?”

Brinley looked up at Cypress, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in her hand and a hard look on her face. “Yeah.”

“You know you’re being stupid by ignoring her threats, right?”

Brinley sighed. Cypress hadn’t hidden her concern about the messages and had told her in no uncertain terms that she was going to end up being featured on some random crime show, probably something with a ridiculous title like, The Beauty Pageant Murder, or She Should’ve Seen It Coming.

“I’m going to call the police today.”

“It’s about freaking time.” Cypress stood up straighter. “Do you want me to call in? What do you need from me? I can be a witness.”