Page 9 of Country

Why do I want this man to pull me in and crush me under his weight? Why do I want him to touch me in ways I’ve never been touched? Why do I need him?

His big, rough hand lands on my throat and he leans me against the wall behind us. “Come to dinner.”

“It’s weird. I shouldn’t—”

“Ms. Fraiser.” The principal clears her throat at my door.

Shit!

I drag in a deep breath and push away from Country’s warmth.

“Yes, Ms. Freeman. What can I help you with?”

She glances toward the giant man in leather then back toward me. “I’d like to see you in my office, please.” The sentence has barely left her lips before she’s turning the corner out of my classroom. I guess by the shade of red on her face she’s either embarrassed or angry. Probably both.

“I got you in trouble,” Country says, leaning his arm against the wall above me. “I should go apologize and tell her it’s my fault. You didn’t back yourself against the wall.

What is it with these bad boys I love so much? Ms. Freeman saved me. I should run and thank her, though she probably wouldn’t want my thanks at this point. She probably never wants to see me again.

“I think that’s the last thing you should do.” I brush past him. “I should go take care of this. Class starts in five minutes.

“Okay.” His tone is so low that my clit won’t stop screaming. “So, what time for dinner?”

I huff out a sigh and stare up at him. We both know I don’t have the will right now to say no.

“Five o’clock?” He scrubs his hand down over his beard, and I’m a puddle.

“Okay, but none of this…” I nod toward the wall he just had me pressed against a second ago. “We can’t confuse Belle.”

He grins and nods. “That’s the last thing I want.”

I know he means what he says, but still, I have a feeling we’re going to fail miserably.

Chapter Four

Country

The table is set, pasta sauce is cooking, and Belle is drawing placemats for everyone with big sheets of construction paper she tore out of her book.

“When Ms. Fraiser gets here, I’m going to show her my room, and my toys, and my little firetruck that I put Tinker Belle stickers on. And then… we can show her where she’s sleeping tonight, right?” Her tone lifts, and though she’s only eight years old, I get the feeling she already knows how to manipulate a situation for her benefit.

“I don’t think Ms. Fraiser is sleepin’ here tonight, baby girl. She’s just comin’ for dinner.”

“Oh. Well… we can ask her to stay the night, right? She could have a slumber party with us. Then in the morning, we can make breakfast, and Ms. Fraiser can show me how to do things with the makeup. She’s pretty. Don’t you think, Dad?”

“Yes, Ms. Fraiser is very pretty,” I scoop my girl up in my arms and tickle her, “just like you. Now go wash up. I need your help puttin’ cheese on the garlic bread.”

Belle jumps free of my arms and runs down the hall to the bathroom. She lives to put cheese on garlic bread, mostly because she helps herself to handfuls of it as she’s working. Regardless of her motives, I love her spirit.

The sink turns on, and though she’s two rooms away, she’s still talking. “Oh, Dad… after dinner, we should take Ms. Fraiser to the honey hole. She’s never seen your poles.”

I smile. “We’ll see if she has time.” I stir the sauce as I listen to Belle ramble on and sing from the bathroom. There’s an innocence in her that crushes every ounce of me. I want her to have a perfect life. The fact that she’s had any disappointment destroys me. Protecting her has been my top priority since she was born, well… since she was conceived. The fact that women like Daisy can’t say the same really pisses me off. If I knew some asshole was touching my daughter the way Mike touched Daisy, I’d murder him on the spot. No explanations, no reasoning, no second chances.

Some things in life are non-negotiable.

To some, that might seem dramatic, but to me, it makes perfect sense. A man should never put hands on a woman. There’s no excuse for it.

Belle bounces out of the bathroom and jumps up onto the sofa, kneeling as she pulls back the curtains to the front window. “She’s here! Ms. Fraiser is here.” She springs off the couch and meets me at the kitchen sink, staring up at me with wide eyes. “Dad, be normal. Okay?”