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Chapter Twenty-Six

Leaving hadn’t been nearly so joyous or filled with laughter—at least

not on the adults’ part. Del had nearly sobbed as she pulled Katrina into

a tight bear hug. It wasn’t as if he ever questioned whether they’d like her or not—he oddly truly had never questioned it. But it was more that

they were worried about her. Hell they were worried about him too.

It was clear their lives were wound up tightly together and what was

done to her would affect him. Del would have rather Kat and Dillon just

moved in, quit their jobs, adopted new identities and hidden from the bad guy for the rest of their lives. She was just that worried and it showed. Del cried, Michael kept his hands on the tops of her shoulders to

calm her and reassure her and Katrina sniffed through her own tears as

Dillon held her hand.

They invited her to visit anytime Dillon came and she nodded. Her jaw was tight with emotion she was trying hard to rein in and he squeezed her hand, kissing her on top of her head.

Now they were headed back to their nightmare. He wasn’t ready to

go back any more than he supposed she was. The only real benefit was it

would be far easier for him to get her into bed at home than it had been

at his parents and regardless of the nightmare, it didn’t change his need

to consume her or apparently for her to be consumed by him.

It was a long day and it was dark by the time they pulled into Molly’s

driveway.

“Hey, Seth. You should come over for the night after you drop your bags off at your house.” Molly was eyeing Dillon as she spoke to Seth.

She’d done it for his benefit and he smiled and nodded at her.

“Okay. Is that cool, Dad?”

“Sure. I need to get Kat home so she can take care of her actual cat and I might just stay there tonight if you don’t mind.”

“Cool. I’ll be down in a few, Aunt Molly.” Seth grabbed his suitcase

and started lugging it up the sidewalk the short jaunt to their house.

“Thanks, Mol.” He pecked her on the cheek before he grabbed their bags as well. Molly hugged Katrina and told her she’d see her soon and

moments later they were headed up the sidewalk, trailing after Seth.

He made a quick pit stop in the garage and tossed Kat’s bag in his Tahoe and when he came back inside, he caught on the sound of Kat’s and Seth’s voices from the kitchen. They were comfortable around each

other, even more so now than before San Francisco and his heart

fluttered as he listened to them for a second, remaining hidden around the corner. They couldn’t see him and he stood still listening.

“Maybe you should just move in with us. I know he wouldn’t care.

He really, really has a crush on you.”

“That’s sweet, Seth but I’m really going to be fine. The police are doing a lot to figure out who is doing this and I’m going to be just fine. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“You love him, so what’s the big deal? I won’t even tell anyone at school.”

“That’s not it. I won’t be your teacher after this year and there’s nothing wrong with your father and me dating, but moving in just

because he’s worried about me isn’t the right answer.”

“That’s crap! For a grownup, you’re not making very smart

decisions.” Seth sounded so much like Dillon in that moment that he had

a hard time stifling his breath that caught in his throat on a lurch, but their conversation was far too serious for him to interrupt it.

He listened to her sigh before she spoke again. “We’ll talk about it another time.”

“Fine.” Seth was muttering. It wasn’t until Seth told Katrina he was going that Dillon made his presence known and as he passed Dillon on

his way toward the front door he hollered over his shoulder. “Bye, Dad.”

“Bye, bud.” Dillon’s eyes followed Seth from the room before

returning to Katrina. “Ready, Freddy?” He was forcing himself to smile.

He wanted to finish the conversation Seth had started but he didn’t want

to start an argument and as though he knew exactly how such a

conversation would play out, he was becoming oddly irritated just

standing facing her. She’d done nothing wrong but the fact he knew the

argument existed whether it was a conversation they were having or not

didn’t seem to stifle his mood that was starting to sour.

“For you, always.” Her expression was the most understated

seductive look he’d ever seen and it slowly eased his tension and pulled

him back from the brink of irritation. There was nothing contrived or overt about her response. Just her need that so perfectly matched his etched on her stunning features.

He was just as aroused as he was irritated.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, knowing well she wouldn’t miss

the calming breaths and he approached her. Her eyes were hooded and

as she glanced up at him, he knew instantly he’d made a mistake

allowing himself to be so close to her after half a week of restraint.

He shook his head, forcing himself to step back before he ate her alive. “We have to leave now before I drag you upstairs.” She chuckled

warmly and he kept shaking his head. “You think I’m kidding.”

And he grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the garage before he

could change his mind and deprive Kitty more than the poor old animal

had already been deprived of her owner.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Walking into Imogen’s house was depressing. She loved Imogen’s

home but her week of normalcy was over and it was back to crazy town

now. She wasn’t ready. Dillon walked up to the patrol officer’s car with

her. He shouldn’t and she told him as much but he wouldn’t hear of her

even walking that short distance alone.

Oddly she knew damn well she’d have been anxious the entire way

and she couldn’t help but be relieved he was near her.

The officer confirmed it had been a quiet week and moments after

returning to the house Katrina’s cell phone rang. It was Smith and she groaned as she contemplated not answering.

“Heard you’re back in town. Everything going okay?”

“Yeah. I just got back.” He already knew that of course. She wasn’t stupid. The patrol officer was a snitch and that pipeline led one place—to

Smith and Terrell.

It was a risk to Dillon, but whatever wasn’t these days? Dillon seemed

to be refusing to worry about that risk. He left his Tahoe in the driveway

rather than pulling into the garage—not that it could do much good at this point and he very obviously intended to stay the night. It was probably more accurate to say he was passively aggressively telling Seattle PD to go fuck themselves.

“Well, nothing much to report on our end. We’re still running down

some leads from the list of contracting companies you gave us. There’s one in particular we’re interested in talking to. Plumber that popped up

on an invoice from over a year ago. We’re having a hard time tracking him down and given the access he had to the interior of your home, and

more specifically your bathroom, it makes sense to look at him closely.

We’re also still looking at your student Josh Grant but we’re striking out

with him too. There’s just not much history on him. We’ll keep you posted.”

She thanked the man before he let her go and when she disconnected,

she looked down at Kitty who was staggering around her ankles. Dillon

was just coming back in from fetching her bag from the Tahoe and as he rounded into the kitchen, setting her bag on the floor, he smirked and she shivered at the heat in his expression.

“That’s a nice rug Imogen has.” He was eyeing the red one on the kitchen floor. It was nice. Of course it was. It likely cost more than Kat made in a month.

“Uh…yes. I suppose it is. Umm, were you in the market for a rug or

something?”

“No.” He smiled. It was the lascivious one that made it clear there was only one thing he was in the market for. “It looks comfortable enough.”

“For?” She was getting nervous.

“For your hands and knees.” And she was getting wet.

Her focus shifted to the rug for a moment before returning to him.

She could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks, creeping over every inch

of her skin for that matter. He watched her carefully, calmly. She knew

he was ravenous. The glint in his eye betrayed his well-controlled composure but there was a seriousness to his expression too that

confused her. His arms were crossed on his chest and his head was set at

a casual angle regarding her, but his eyes were on fire.

Katrina didn’t wait for an invitation. She slipped her shirt off over her

head and his lips parted as his attention was drawn down to her breasts.

She unclasped her bra and let it slide from her arms.

His eyes fluttered as they stayed glued to her chest but when her fingers moved to the waist of her jeans, his gaze dropped farther and his

breathing became ragged. She dropped her pants and underwear to the

floor and when she approached him, she slipped her hands up under his

t-shirt. It incited a quiet moan and his stomach muscles started twitching

and contracting under her palms.

When she suddenly pulled her hands from him, she was really just

teasing him. She was actually incredibly nervous. There was one part of

her that knew there was no reason for her fear but then there was the part, the part with decorum and modesty, that knew she was being far too brazen not to be terrified.

She turned from him and as she stepped onto the rug, she sank to her

knees and then dropped down to her hands. He was standing behind her and as she listened to him release a slow and deep breath that sounded

as much a groan as anything, she dropped her chest to the soft surface of

the rug, angling her ass up even farther. She parted her knees and the

“oh fuck, Katrina” that he uttered in a desperate voice, gave her the only

ounce of nerve she needed to hold her position.

She listened to the quiet rustle of fabric as he slipped his shirt off, dropping it softly to the floor. The sound of him kneeling behind her sent

warmth pulsing through her body and wetness settling between the lips

of her sex. When his fingers trailed up the back of her thighs, her knees

started shaking. It did not go unnoticed and he shushed her as his fingers

kept creeping slowly toward her bottom.

She could feel every touch and she didn’t need to see what his fingers

were doing to know exactly what was happening. She closed her eyes, soaking in the touch and imagining his searing eyes studying her body as

he enticed her further into what he wanted.

When his lips met her bottom, she cried out in surprise. At first it was

sweet, suctioning kisses along the cheeks, but then his teeth nipped. It was controlled and every time he clamped down, an aroused ragged

breath was released from his throat as though it was as much his pleasure as hers.

He gripped her cheeks, spreading them and letting his thumbs gently

glide down over her anus. “I had thought…” She gasped at the sound of

his voice, so entranced by his touch she forgot he could actually speak.

“That I might be entirely too desperate to get inside you to be gentle, to

go slow.”

He bit as she flinched and groaned. His tongue flicked over the skin

he held between his teeth and she cried out again. She was just waiting

for her wetness to drip. She’d be mortified but she was falling apart so easily. “But now that I see you so prone and willing there’s no way I can

rush this.”

She felt a finger run up between the lips of her sex, gliding gently through her moisture and he hummed as his finger delved, stroking but

not penetrating. His finger started swirling around her clit, circling the swollen peak of nerves. His touch was neither light nor harsh—the

perfect pressure to drive her nerves insane with want quickly. He pushed

up, forcing the hood back to expose the most sensitive of those nerves, and as the pad of a finger brushed gently over the spot, she shrieked and

the tops of her feet kicked against the floor in rapid succession as she fought the need to collapse.

She started begging as her muscles tightened and quivered. His warm

chuckle was the only response she received but when he increased the pressure just marginally, her knees slid apart and her thighs trembled.

She fell apart and orgasmed with her tush pushed high in the air and her

muscles quivering.

She was nearly ready to collapse, but a new rush of electric desire coursed through her when she heard the zipper of his pants being

lowered, and she groaned loudly in anticipation.

She was fighting to stay in place as her muscles begged her to

crumple but he closed in on her body from behind and his hand reached

around her side, down her stomach and to clutch her sex, holding her in

position as her trembling muscles finally got a reprieve. His fingers parted her lips and when the head of his cock pushed gently against her

opening his breath started lurching against her neck. His chest was to her

back, his hand next to hers on the floor as his other framed her pussy, feeling his dick push past her splayed lips.

“Fuck, that is nice.” He muttered as he pushed and her body

accommodated his size.

When he groaned, it was against her ear, and when he cursed as he hit her depths, it was uttered with his lips to her neck. He humped, rolling his hips into her bottom and as his breathing started to lurch and

catch in his throat, he released his hold on her sex, righted his posture and gripped her hips tightly in his hands.

He jerked her back to his groin as he thrust and it sent spasms of deep

aching pleasure through her core. He used her hips, snapping them

roughly back as he slammed into her body. It was harsh and it was passionate and the moment she felt it was nearing too much, he held her

hips to him, grinding hard against her as she moaned.

“I want you in my home.” He plunged deep within her and she cried

out. “Say you’ll stay with me.” She was gasping as he slowly withdrew.

“I can’t.” She whimpered as he pulled from her entirely. This was not

the time to piss him off but there was no chance it wouldn’t.

“You can. Stay with me.” His voice had gone from seductive to demanding with this utterance and he let the head of his cock gently brush between her lips, refusing to enter her.

“Please.” She didn’t care if she sounded needy and pathetic.

“Stay with me.” His voice was louder and the demand was getting

vicious. He pushed and the head popped past her lips but there he stilled. The controlled movement of his body was a complete dichotomy

to the desperate and growling tone of his voice.

“Dillon, fuck.” She was whimpering, waiting for more but he was still

and tormenting her.

“Stay with me.” He pulled back out again and she started

whimpering again. She wanted so much to give in. She wanted to be nowhere but with him—his home, his life, his everything—but she knew

there was a damn good reason she couldn’t say yes even if she was having a hard time remembering what it was at the moment.

“I can’t. Please.” She was gasping. He rubbed the head of his cock over her clit and she hissed as her nerves were set on fire.

“Stay with me.” His voice was low and she didn’t need to see his eyes

to know they were searing into the back of her skull, unrelenting in their

intensity. She shook her head and he released her hips. She listened in frustration as he stood and walked around to kneel in front of her.

She pushed herself up to her hands and came face-to-face with his hand wrapped around his dick. He was slowly gliding his hand up the

glistening-wet shaft. “Say yes. That’s all you have to do.”

“Dammit, Dillon.” She tried to glare at him but her eyes dropped back

to his erection and his hand that was moving enticingly over it.

“Say yes and I’ll stop torturing you. I want you so fucking much, but I

need this.”

She glanced up to his eyes. They were dark, hooded, dangerously

demanding. When she righted her body and sat back on her heels, his breath was released in a frustrated huff. She understood that frustration

though for far different reasons.

He wasted no time snaking his hand between her legs and plunging

three fingers into her pussy. He was pushing, stretching and forcing her

body to accept his touch as her insides trembled and contracted around

him.

Her breath lurched and gasped as his fingers pushed and pulled and

his eyes held hers fiercely. “Stay. With. Me.” He was speaking through gritted teeth and he looked angry even though he was hard, long and looked two seconds from mauling her.

“Dillon—“

“No! Say it! Fuck, Katrina! Why do you have to be so fucking

stubborn?” He was practically yelling and his jaw was tight. He was panting as much as she was. His fingers moved within her. However harsh his demeanor, his fingers were slowly bringing her close to her breaking point and she reached out to his upper arms to steady herself as

her stomach muscles started to contract, pleading with her to double over and give into the desire.

“Oh God…” She should have seen it coming. He pulled his fingers

from her, leaving her panting and moaning on her knees in front of him.

“How long are we going to do this, Kat? You belong with me.” His hand, wet from her body, reached out to grip her cheek, pulling her mouth toward him. He kissed. And then he kissed again. He claimed her

lips over and over and she leaned toward his body. When he finally finished with her lips, he dropped his forehead to hers.

“Please. I’m begging you. I can’t have you anywhere but with me.”

His fingers that were on her neck behind her ear, curled against her skin

as his thumb brushed gently against her cheek.

She nodded. She could feel her forehead wrinkling even as she

agreed. She didn’t know how to feel about what she was agreeing to and

so she stared at his chest and took a deep breath. Her arousal wasn’t forgotten, not in the least, but she was stunned, terrified of what she was

willing to do for him—what she was willing to do for him regardless of

what might happen to him as a result.

His hand dropped from her cheek as he studied her and it wasn’t

until he reached to her chin and tilted her head up that she took in his expression—still serious and guarded. “We’re a whole. Do you

understand? We don’t do separate anymore.” She nodded again. Her

face had fallen—she could feel her muscles slack and shocked. Her

emotions were roiling and running through her but she couldn’t seem to

get a handle on them. Relief, fear, guilt, anger, happiness and all within

the same nanosecond of time. It left her feeling overwhelmed and confused. She was beaten. She was surrendered.

When Dillon sat back on his feet, she relaxed back on to hers too.

They stared at each other. Her lips were parted as she fought to grasp what was happening. His expression was unreadable. He just watched.

He waited. Waited for her to renege, waited for her to argue, who knows

—but she could see the distrust swimming behind his expression.

When he opened his mouth to speak, she sucked in a nervous breath.

“Believe it or not, it’s not hard for me to see this from your perspective. I get it. But I need you to start seeing it from my perspective too and you’ve been doing a damn good job focusing on how our relationship is

affecting you—your worry, your guilt.”

He studied her silently as his words sunk in. “I’ve had to endure your

comments, your worry for Seth and I, the guilt I catch on your face constantly. I’ve had to endure that, wondering when it would become too much for you. I know what’s going on in your mind but you don’t seem to have a fucking clue what’s going on in mine.”

His voice was even and controlled as he spoke but there was no

missing the quiet aggression in his tone. He let out a deep sigh as he stood from the floor, offering her his hand. She took it.

He walked with her silently to the stairs and as she stepped up the first, a tremor ran up her spine to tingle in her brain. It was that same warm electric feeling that consumed her whenever he touched her and she grasped for a briefest of moments just how much she owned him and

how much he owned her too.

It might look like nothing more than his fingers clasping hers from the outside in but from the inside, it was a powerful thing. She rounded

to him and kissed him. She held his face to hers, not wanting to feel even

the least bit of separation between them.

His hands gripped her waist and she groaned into his mouth. When

she kissed along his jaw, she could hear the subtlest sound of him swallowing and when she reached his ear, she kissed him one more time.

“I love you.”

She pulled back to see him watching her with a slightly stunned

expression on his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be selfish.” Tears were

pricking her eyes and she blinked them back furiously as his brow

furrowed.

“There’s not a selfish bone in your body. But I need you to

understand me.” She nodded. He stared at her, none of the seriousness lost for many long moments that left her biting her lip waiting for him.

When his lips pulled up in a very small seductive smile, she relaxed.

“Now how about we make up and finish what we started in the kitchen

—perhaps in the bedroom this time? It’s going to be the last night I make

love to you here. I intend to have you in my bedroom come tomorrow night.”

He kissed her before smacking her ass as she turned from him. She might not have known what to think about what she’d just managed to

agree to against her better judgment but that didn’t mean the idea of sharing his bed again wasn’t intoxicating.

They ended up in the same position he had her in on the kitchen floor.

He was behind her, pushing into her body. He pulled and plunged over

and over, hitting her depths every time. He pounded hard until she was

gasping and could only barely manage to brace her body with her hands.

Her knees left the mattress with every swift jerk of her hips and she

was being so thoroughly used by him that she simply shut her eyes and

let her body take from him every ounce of pleasure he was giving. It was

a ceaseless pace that eventually ended with him lying nearly on top of her collapsed body as his seed seeped around his still-imbedded cock.

She was panting like an animal and her skin was clammy and tingling.

His breath warmed the back of her neck and she lost track of just how long they stayed still and panting before he finally lifted himself from her and pulled her into his arms.

Katrina rolled to her back and Dillon stared down at her. His eyes were intense and dark and it was only when he finally reached a hand to

her cheek and caressed her skin that his expression finally softened and

he offered a subtle smirk. “Stay with me.”

“Yes.”

“Is it what you want?”

“Of course it is. That was never the problem.”

He smiled gently. “The problem belongs to both of us and we’ll deal

with it together.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

She was talking on the phone as she rinsed vegetables in the sink. He

was trying to follow the directions she’d given him before she decided to

pick up the phone and left him to his own devices. The scrunched brow

and shocked look she gave him when he stabbed a garlic clove with the

tip of the spoon she’d handed him was enough to get her off the phone.

“Imogen, I’ve got to let you go. Dillon’s trying to ruin dinner.” She hung up quickly, snatching the spoon from him and using the curved outer surface of the spoon to crush the clove on the cutting board. Who

knew you could do such things? “Seriously, Dillon?”

He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck as Seth walked in the

room cradling Kitty like a baby and scratching her belly.

“Ms. Page, your cat’s weird.”

“You know you can call me Katrina or Kat even. And yes, I know she

is.”

“Katrina sounds funny.”

“Just in general or just calling me Katrina?”

“Uh, you Katrina.” She laughed and Seth shrugged. He made fun of

the poor cat constantly—it was hard not to—but Seth had taken to the old lady immediately. Katrina had been with them for nearly two weeks.

Kitty was sleeping in Seth’s room already and Katrina was sleeping in Dillon’s—just where she belonged. He’d never been happier Seth slept with his TV on. He’d never been able to indulge in her so completely and

so constantly and he had no intention of slowing down with her.

Stephens, Katrina and he had moved her car from the parking garage

to Stephens’ outbuilding for storage the last Sunday of spring break. It wasn’t a forever solution but they weren’t going to be doing anything to

make it easy for their perp to find her.

Dillon had an unlisted phone number and he’d been smart enough to

value his privacy when he bought his home. His and Molly’s homes were

owned by a trust they’d set up to protect their identities. Dillon had

always

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