Open Life (Open Skies #5) (8 page)

“Were you angry about that growing up?” he said. “About not having a family of your own?”

“Angry?” She thought about that. “Sometimes, I suppose, but like I said, I never saw the point of anger. I guess I was more… resigned.”

“Resigned?” That seemed an odd choice of word. “Like – you thought you’d never be adopted and you gave up hope?”

“Exactly.” She drained the pasta now, turning her face away from the steam. “I just wasn’t one of the kids who was going to be chosen and I knew it.”

Her words hit Dillon somewhere he didn’t even know existed, on some deep level inside.

“Chosen?” he said.

“Yeah. Prospective parents came around all the time and looked at the kids. Watched us eat, watched us play, talked to us sometimes. Vetted us as potential kids to take home with them, really.”

Urgh. Like choosing a dog from the pound? Why does this strike me as so gross?

“I was so shy, I couldn’t even look at these people most of the time,” she said. “They always chose the outgoing kids, you know, the cute ones who could talk and chatter and be funny. I didn’t even blame them, to be honest with you… given a choice between a kid who won’t take their eyes off the floor and a kid who dances around and laughs, who’d you choose?”

Oh, it’s not like the pound. It’s like a beauty pageant with a talent component. Goddammit.

“I can’t believe it worked that way, Maria. What – people just wandered in and picked a kid? Took ‘em home?”

“Oh, no. It wasn’t that blatant or that easy. I mean, most people wanted babies and there are agencies that screen potential parents and then put them on waiting lists. But older kids, kids like me? We were way harder to place, so the foster care workers made sure we were introduced to people who couldn’t get on those lists, for whatever reason. Money, mostly. The adoption process for newborns is crazy expensive.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“So they’d meet us and if they clicked with a kid, then the foster care workers arranged time together to talk, or draw, or eat. The kid would get to know them and if everyone felt comfortable, then the process could begin. Took months and in some cases, it was halted for any number of reasons and the kids were devastated.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes vulnerable. “There were so many ways to be hurt back then – even by the very people you trusted to make you theirs.”

“God, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Well, I was never hurt that way,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “I wasn’t cute or charming enough, not outgoing enough. Not memorable enough, I guess, really. I just – I wasn’t
enough
, for lots of reasons.”

Dillon hurt for her, he physically
ached
and he longed to hold her until she felt wanted. “You were more than enough, Maria. You still are.”

“Yeah, well… it doesn’t matter now.” She forced a smile. “I learned how to deal with people leaving me and I’m used to it now. I got myself through school and I worked to pay for my hospitality courses and I came here six years ago. I’m doing fine here at Open Skies, you know? I think of these people like my family and I’m happy enough.”

“Happy enough?” he said. “Or happy?”

She paused, regretting her slip. Christ, nothing got past the man, did it?

“Happy,” she said firmly. “I’m happy.”

“You telling me the truth?”

She stopped, remembering their agreement to always be honest with each other.

“Well… I’m happy enough,” she said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing.”

“So why aren’t you totally happy?” Dillon asked softly.

“I – I don’t know. I mean, are
you
totally happy?”

“Nope.”

She blinked, taken aback yet again at his harsh honesty. “OK. So why aren’t you happy?”

“I’m lonely, I suppose.”

“You are?” She plucked up her courage to ask what she’d been dying to ask him for over a week. “You – you don’t have anyone special in your life?”

He gazed down at her in her simple, loose dress, standing close enough to her to feel her breath on his chest. “No. I don’t.”

“Oh.” She gulped. “But – but you spend time with women, right? At work?”

Dillon furrowed his brow at her. “What do you mean?”

“Gabi told me about Curves… told me it’s a pick-up bar for customers
and
staff. She said that you guys all use some – some back rooms or something?”

“Oh, Christ.” He shut his eyes. “She told you about the crash rooms?”

“Uh-huh.”

He opened those cool green eyes again. “Yeah, Dangerous Curves is known for the quick-fuck rooms, no doubt about that. But I’ve never gone back there with anyone.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not in to casual.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Why not?” She took in his face and body, sure that he must have any number of women chasing him. “I thought it was every guy’s dream to get no-strings-attached sex from hot women.”

“Not mine.”

“Why not?”

“Honestly? I got all that out of my system by the time I was about twenty-two, which is when it stopped being fun and just got deadly dull. I was in the army by then and I just got so fucking sick of the bars and the drunk women throwing themselves at me and the other guys every single weekend. I just opted out of the whole scene and then I was shipped out to the Middle East where casual sex was pretty rare, to put it delicately. I shuffled between here and there for years, kept getting more intensive training. I came back to the States almost five years ago now, and relationships have been challenging to come by.”

“Why?” Maria was fascinated at his openness today. Dillon
never
talked this much.

Dillon shrugged. “Because I’m hard to get along with, mostly.”

She actually giggled. “Sometimes you are. Not always.”

“Thanks.” He grinned at her. “I’m trying to be nicer for you, darlin’.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you trying to be nice to me?”

It suddenly occurred to him that
this
was the moment to say something, to make a move. He had a million thoughts running through his head about Maria and they needed to go somewhere – and soon.

“Well,” he said cautiously, worried about freaking her out and trying to reign in his naturally abrupt manner. “I like you.”

She blushed. “I like you too.”

“And I like being with you.”

“Well, you have no real choice, do you?” she teased him. “You’ve been ordered to stay put, right?”

“Don’t do that.” His voice had that familiar rasp to it, the one that appeared when he was bordering on angry. “The one thing has nothing the fuck to do with the other.”

His intensity shocked her a bit. “I – I didn’t mean…”

“You
did
mean, Maria. You meant that the only reason I spend time with you at all is because I was told to. Right?”

She looked down. “Yes.”

“No.”

“No?”

“
No
. I’ve been a bodyguard before and I always,
always
maintained a strict distance between me and the principal. I never ate with them, never spent time talking to them, never laughed with them.”

“So what
did
you do?” she asked, genuinely perplexed.

“I hovered in the background and just watched them. Stood well back and damn near disappeared. Half the time they forgot I was even there and they just got on with their lives. Maybe made me a cup of coffee once in a while. That was it.”

“So why do you behave this way with me?”

“Because I can’t just stand back from you.” He moved closer now and was gratified when she didn’t move away. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” she repeated.

“How much?”

“How much do I like you?” she said, confused.

“Yeah.” Slowly, he raised his large hand and touched her cheek, stroking the silky golden skin. His fingertips trailed over the curve of her face, tender and slow. “You like me enough to let me do that?”

Her breath caught. “Yes.”

Dillon’s eyes sparked at her husky assent. His fingers threaded in her long hair and he tugged her closer, until she was pressed up against his strong chest.

“And that?” he said. “Can I do that?”

“Yes.”

Still gripping her hair, Dillon lowered his head to hers, ghosting small kisses on her forehead, across her cheeks, along her chin, turning her this way and that to accommodate his mouth. He moved slowly, taking his time, listening to her breathing get deeper and harder at his gentle dominance.

“What about that?” he murmured against her throat. “You like me enough for me to do all of that to you, baby?”

Maria couldn’t answer this time; her voice seemed to have completely stopped functioning. She nodded, praying with everything in her heating-up body that he wouldn’t stop touching her.

Dillon lifted his head again, stared in to her eyes. He smiled at her clear desire, knowing now for sure that he wasn’t all alone in what he was feeling. She looked scared, though, and he didn’t want that. It was just about the
last
thing in the world he wanted.

“You want to know how much I like
you
?” he said.

“What?” she stuttered.

“Ask me how much I like you.”

She was frozen in place, fighting to get up the courage to do what she really wanted to do – what it looked like Dillon wanted, too. But he wasn’t going to take that next step, she saw suddenly. He was going to make sure she was OK with this and the way he could be the most sure would be for
her
to take things to the next level.

Oh, my God.
I
have to kiss
him
.

He watched and waited, pushing down on his urge to ravish her mouth with his. No, he’d made the first tentative moves but she was going to have to make some of her own. He needed to know that she was a part of this, that it wasn’t all just happening
to
her. That she was making choices
with
him, not because of him.

When she finally raised her hands to his chest, he almost sighed with relief. Maria’s touch was gentle, shy, and a wave of tenderness for her threatened to wash him away. He stood very still and let her take the lead now.

Maria ran her hands over his muscles, a bit stunned at his obvious and massive physical strength. He was so clearly holding it all back, though, holding it in check. She grew bolder, let her fingers trace the hard curves of his abs.

“And what about me?” she said at last. “Do you like me enough to let me do this?”

“I do,” he said hoarsely.

She smiled, enjoying the game now. She raised herself on her tiptoes and slid her hands over his broad shoulders. She pulled his face down to hers, flicked her tongue over his lips. “And that?”

His response was a groan and he clutched her closer.

“Is that a yes, Dillon?”

“Yes,” he growled. “Yes, I like you enough for you to do that.”

“Can I do more?” she whispered shakily.

“You’d better,” he said. “You’re killing me, darlin’.”

She lifted herself to him again and this time, he pulled her up. Her sweet mouth met his in a soft kiss. She pulled back a bit and stared up at him. “And you like me enough for
that
to be OK, right?”

“No,” he said, almost harshly.

Her face fell. “N – no?”

“No. That’s not OK – it’s not
nearly
OK. I want more than that, Maria, and I want you to give it to me right the fuck now.”

Out of patience, losing control, he tangled his hands in her hair once more and he took her mouth, holding her in place as they kissed again and again, more deeply, longer, stronger. When she gave a moan and opened to him, he stroked her with his tongue, tasting wine and spice. She gasped as he ran his hands down her body to her hips, pulled her tightly against him.

Right away, he stopped. “Alright?”

“Yes,” she said. “
So
alright.”

His smile was slow and hot. “I want to forget about dinner for a while.”

“You do?” She tried to look disapproving. “After all our hard work to prepare it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you want to do instead?”

“This.” Without another word, he lifted her off her feet, lowered her on to the island in the middle of the kitchen. She gave a small cry and clutched his shoulders. He was between her spread legs now, trapping her in place with his hands on either side of her – and she loved it. He loomed above her and his eyes were nothing but green flame. “Is this good?”

“It’s good,” she said. “But it could be better.”

“Tell me how.”

“Show me some more how much you like me.”

He grinned down at her, liking her playfulness. “No problem, Maria. Nothing I’d rather do.”

His kiss this time was rough, intense. He was marking her, she knew, staking his claim on her and she let him. Hell, she even welcomed it. All she wanted was to be taken by Dillon – taken completely. She wanted to be his… even just for one night.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he drew back. “I’m not going to take you to my bed tonight.”

She was hurt and disappointed, but tried to hide it. “You don’t want to? With me?”

“Oh, I
want
to.” His laugh was almost pained. “You have no idea
how much
I want to.”

“So why not then?” She wondered if she was coming across as pathetic, but
dammit
… she wanted to see him naked.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He looked at her hopefully. “You have some?”

She sighed and returned to earth with a bump. “No.”

“That’s OK, baby.” His hands were moving over her body, moving down. “I’m going to do one more thing to show you just how much I like you.”

“What’s that?” she whispered as tendrils of lust coiled in her stomach.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers and tongue,” he said. “So lie back and open your legs wider for me.”

His bluntness was the ultimate turn-on right now and her whole body responded fully. He saw it in her face and his cock hardened mercilessly, pushing against his jeans. It was almost painful, but it was pleasure-pain – he loved being this close to her. He’d put up with some sexual frustration if that meant that he was licking and stroking that sweet little pussy and listening to her call his name.