Conflicting Interests (24 page)

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.

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.”