Page 20 of Dash

I take a deep breath and lift my hands. I shove him through the front door with all I have. He lands on his ass on the front porch, not expecting that.

“You fucking bitch,” he growls, standing up and dusting himself off.

I smile. “Finally, you call me by a name I don’t mind.” God, it feels so good to stand up for myself. There’s nothing else in the world like it.

“You’re going to regret this,” he sneers.

I ignore his threat. “Don’t come back around, Rodger. We’re done!”

I slam the door, lock it, and go back to my bedroom. I yank my dress up and over my head. I need a long, hot shower. I had just placed it on my bed and turn to walk into the bathroom when a noise stops me.

My doorbell rings... I fist my hands down by my sides. I swear the guy can’t take a hint. Without bothering to put clothes back on, I make my way back down the stairs and swing the door open. “I said to leave!” I shout.

There, standing on my front porch, stands the only other guy I don’t want to see—Dash! How does he know where I live?

His grayish eyes look me up and down before a smirk appears on his lips. He takes a step into my house, and I take a step back trying to keep my distance. He reaches up and closes the door once he’s inside.

“You know,” he says, taking another step toward me, “you shouldn’t answer the door half naked and expect someone to leave.” He licks his lips, and I wrap my arms around myself. He chuckles. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen, sweetheart.”

My blood continues to boil and nervousness sets in that he knows where I live. “Leave.” I point at the door.

He shakes his head. “Not until I’m done with you,” he says matter-of-fact.

“Well, you can’t have me,” I shoot back.

I go to take another step back, but I hit the wall. He’s on me before I can even step around him. One hand tangles in my hair and the other is on my face. His lips attack mine, and he shoves his tongue down my throat.

I’m able to place my hands on his chest and shove him away enough for me to take a few deep breaths. “I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit game that you guys play,” I shout, losing my patience.

He stands there looking at me with concern on his face as if I’m about to have a breakdown. “What bullshit? What game?” he asks cautiously.

“I mean the one where I act all submissive. The one where you guys demand that I be yours. And only yours. The one where I do things that make me hate myself to make you happy. And let’s face it; that’s not fucking possible!” I ramble as my arms wave around in the air.

He takes a step toward me, and I raise my hands to stop him. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says softly. “But let’s sit down and talk about it. Okay?”

I let out a sigh and shake my head. “Please. Just leave,” I say, running out of air.

He turns around and looks down at the floor, and he stops once he sees the picture frame and broken glass on the tiled floor that I had thrown at Rodger. “What happened before I got here?” he asks, spinning back around to face me.

“Nothing,” I snap. It’s none of his business. “I don’t know why you act like you care, anyway. There’s nothing going on between us.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, his lips are on mine once again. I lift my hands to shove him back, but he captures my wrists and pins them behind my back. All it does is push me closer to his body and the feel of him so close to me has me surrendering. I want a distraction from Rodger.

I allow his tongue to stroke mine, and I even find myself wanting more when he finally pulls away.

“Can you tell me that was nothing?” he asks breathlessly against my lips.

I place my head down as I gather my thoughts. “What we’re doing is wrong. I don’t even know you.” Why do I want you? Why do I feel so safe with you?

He releases my wrists and places his hand under my chin to urge me to look up at him. “Nothing we’re doing is wrong, darling. And I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back. “Now. Please tell me what happened. Why are you so upset, and why is there a broken picture frame on the floor?”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

He reaches up to push a strand of dark hair behind my ear. “Let me in, Tabatha. Was he here? Did he do something to you?” His eyes start to roam my exposed body.

I let out a sigh. “Yes, he came by. No, he didn’t do anything.”

His jaw tightens as he looks away from me and over to my stairs. “Is your bedroom upstairs?” he asks, and I nod slowly trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Surely, it can’t be sex at the moment.

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