“S. E. X. on the beach,” Dodge whispered as he quickly stepped away and grabbed his keys off the kitchen island.
Dragging in a deep breath, I attempted to regain my composure. Fuck me! One of my sex bucket list items.
“Fire the housecleaner, Sierra, and get your locks changed before you leave for South Texas.”
My mind was swimming. I tried like hell to not let on how worked up I currently was. “Okay,” I mumbled.
Dodge opened the door and was about to shut it when I remembered Chris. Dodge thought I was going to South Texas to see Chris.
“Wait!”
Stopping quickly, Dodge pushed the door open a little as his eyes danced with excitement. Oh, he was feeling this just as much as I was. Giving him a weak smile, I said, “I’m not going to South Texas. I told Ryn I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for the house and that you might need me here for Jeremy.”
Dodge’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “You were going to see Ryn and Tristan?”
Bingo. Yep. He totally thought I screwed around with Chris. Never mind the small fact that I noticed he was not happy about the thought of me with Chris. Score one for Sierra! Nodding my head, I said, “Yeah. Who else would I be going to see?”
Shrugging his shoulder, Dodge winked and said, “Don’t know. See you tomorrow morning, say nine? We’ll go over everything together. See if anything was missed.”
Damn it, that’s like ten hours away! “Sure. Sounds great!” I said in a way too chipper voice.
Dodge shut the door as I walked over, grabbed a sofa pillow and screamed into it. Throwing it across the room, I shook my head. “Damn you, Dodge Walker. Getting me all worked up like this. You bastard!”
My phone buzzed as I walked over and grabbed it. It was from Dodge.
Dodge: My father might sit in on our meeting. So don’t come in like jeans or anything.
My mouth dropped open as I started at the text message. “How dare he tell me how to dress. Bastard!”
Me: I’ll be coming from work. I’ll be dressed in scrubs. Get over it asshole. My own father doesn’t even tell me how to dress.
Dodge: Fine.
Me: What? No smart-ass reply? You’re losing your touch!
Slumping down onto the sofa, I tried to push away the disappointment of Dodge not responding back to me. Holy hell . . . what did I think this was? High school?
Five minutes later, my father stood at my door with his overnight bag. Smiling, I gave him a kiss as he marched through the door.
“That fucker. I’ll have his ass taken out if he breaks into my daughter’s house again,” my father said as he threw his bag down on the sofa.
“Nice to see you too, Daddy,” I said as I made my way into the kitchen.
My phone buzzed as I pulled it out of my pocket.
Dodge: An alarm is top priority tomorrow morning.
Smiling, I shook my head. I wondered if Dodge would be like this with all his clients. Chewing on my lower lip, I attempted to come up with some sort of smart-ass remark, but I was so taken by how much he was worried about me, I fell short. “Shit. I’m losing my touch.”
“First thing tomorrow morning I’m calling an alarm company. Top-of-the-line shit for my baby girl. Top. Of. The. Line.”
Rolling my eyes, I spent the next few minutes talking to my father about alarms. Another five minutes was spent talking him out of buying a Rottweiler for me.
“Daddy, I’m exhausted. Can we chat about this tomorrow?”
Grabbing his beer, he lifted his hand and headed to the living room where he sat on the sofa and put the TV on CNN.
Letting out a groan, I headed to the front door where I made sure it was locked. Slowly made my way to my bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes and face planted onto my bed. Rolling over, I let out a frustrated cry as I pictured blue eyes staring into mine. The feel of his hot breath on my neck had my lower abdomen pulsing with need.
Shaking my head, my hand slipped between my legs. “I hate you, Dodge. God, I really I hate you.”
STANDING IN THE COLD SHOWER, I tilted my head back as the water rolled down my face and I cursed Sierra Jackson. My dick had been rock hard since she started talking about sex and vibrators, and the bastard was still hard. It took another five minutes and standing under an ice-cold shower before it finally realized it would not be getting any action tonight.
Making my way into bed, I dropped down and then fell back. “Damn, I’m exhausted.”
Crawling up to my pillow, I lifted my hips and pulled my towel off, letting it fall the floor. My mother would flip if she had ever seen a wet towel on the floor. Fuck it. Janice would get it tomorrow when she came to clean.
