Page 15 of Dirty Girl

6

Jenson

After long, frustrating hours, we are still no closer to finding out who broke into the club or why. The person walked straight into my office and disabled the primary security camera. Luckily there are back-ups, but even those feeds don’t shed any light onto the situation. Once in my office, they went directly to the hidden staircase that leads to my penthouse and when they couldn’t gain access, they left.

Reg and I tightened up security. New passcodes, more cameras, and double the security personnel during business hours—we’re not taking chances going forward. Especially, since I’m moving back into my penthouse. Now that Dylan is finally mine, there is no need to continue living in my parent’s house.

At the girls’ graduation party, there were no fewer than five assholes drooling after my girl—not that I can blame them. She looked absolutely stunning in a white sundress. It hugged her curves like a second skin, flaring out just enough around the hem to let the breeze lift it, exposing an indecent amount of her creamy thighs. My dick was so hard that day, I worried it would be permanently damaged by my zipper.

I’ve been waiting years for little Dylan Thomas to grow up so that I could make her mine. I wasn’t about to risk someone else getting their hands on her now that she is finally old enough for me to make my move. So, I had to come up with a plan—which is why I used the excuse of remodeling my penthouse as a reason to move into my parent’s house and closer to Dylan.

It’s been hard as fuck waiting and watching her these last two months, but there was this overwhelming sadness clinging to her. Losing her parents was rightfully hard on her and made it nearly impossible to get past her defenses.

She’s walked around the house like a lost waif since graduating. I was desperate to make a move. In fact, I had planned on having her within a week, but I held back. I’m a bastard for the way I pushed her this weekend, but hearing those two assholes talking about how they were going to get into her pussy before they left for college was the last straw. The fact that she is just as hungry for me as I am for her is surprising.

“Man you are wound tight,” Reg interrupts my thoughts. “You need to get laid.”

“Fuck you.”

He barks out a laugh. “Still waiting for the kid?”

“Dylan isn’t a fucking kid…” I start, but the words freeze in my throat when she walks into the club followed by my sister. Reg follows my line of sight and he whistles.

“Now that’s a fuckable piece of ass.”

Unable to hold back my irritation, I shove him against the one-way glass we are looking through. My arm is at his throat and I just barely hold back from pummeling his face. “Do not ever speak of her like that again.” His hands come up in placating motion. “In fact, don’t even fucking look at her.” I put a little more pressure against his throat, making sure I got my point across, before releasing him.

“That’s Dylan? No wonder you’re tied in knots over her,” Reg says, shaking off my aggression like it’s nothing. Which isn’t far from the truth, it’s not the first time one of us has gotten physical with the other.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is she wearing?”

I promised myself I would observe and only step in if there was a problem, but seeing her in that shimmery gold concoction—I don’t think a eunuch could keep away. The dress hugs every inch of her body, fitting her like a glove. The top is low-cut, the neckline scooping down between her breasts showing not only the pillowy tops, but the soft sides, too. The way they move as she strides across the room tells me that she’s not wearing a bra. I can just imagine how her little nipples are poking through the material.

I’ve barely cataloged how short the skirt of the dress is when she turns around and I see that the back of the dress dips down almost to the top of her sexy ass. Fuck me. My eyes skate down past her bottom and stop on the fuck me heels she’s wearing. Everything about her screams sex. Every single man in this place is eye-fucking her right now. They all want her and it’ll be over my dead body.

Her little group finally makes it to the V.I.P. section I had reserved for them and I let out a sigh of relief. At least while she’s there, the only people I have to worry about getting handsy with her are the boys Jackie invited. After watching my girl for long minutes, I finally pull myself away. Every second I look at her lush body it becomes a physical ache to make myself stay away.

I manage to control myself for all of thirty minutes before I’m back at the glass, looking for my girl. Panic claws at my throat when I realize she’s not safely inside the V.I.P. area. I strategically placed extra security around them, with specific instructions to watch and not engage unless someone made physical contact with Dylan. I scan the area looking for Trevor and Marcus, both of whom know how precious she is to me. They understood exactly what I meant when I said to protect her at all costs.

I finally spot them by the restrooms and heave a sigh of relief. Obsessed, I watch the hallway waiting for her to appear. Before she does, a fight breaks out just a few feet away from where Trevor and Marcus are located. Of course, they instantly react to neutralize the situation, but it’s clear things aren’t going to be cleaned up quickly. What started as a couple guys shoving each other has turned into a swarm of bodies fighting for dominance. It’s fucking bedlam.

Dylan steps out of the restroom and is immediately shoved backwards into a wall. I can see the fear on her face as she takes in the chaos around her. I don’t hesitate, I just react. I’m almost to her when I hear her cry out over the roaring noise inside the club. I’ve finally got eyes on her again and I instantly see red. Some asshole has her pinned against the wall, running his hands over her body like he owns it.

He’s leaning in close, his mouth hovering over her neck. I can see his lips moving along the delicate line of her throat. From this angle, I can’t tell if they are on her or if he’s just talking, but at this point it doesn’t matter. I’m livid.

All rational thought leaves me as I approach them. I yank him away from her, placing myself between them. After a quick backward glance to make sure Dylan’s okay, my fist connects with the asshole’s face. I don’t stop with one punch or even two. No, I beat the man until he’s flat on his back.

In complete honesty—I wouldn’t have stopped there. I could’ve painted the walls with his blood and still wanted more pain for him. Dylan’s shaky hand on my arm is what stops me. One touch and all the anger drains away, my focus once again only on her.

“Are you hurt?” Stark fear laces my words and I hardly recognize my own voice. If anything happened to Dylan, I wouldn’t survive it. Her eyes are wide and fearful. I can’t tell if her fear is from what could have happened if I hadn’t intervened or if she’s scared of me.

My gut churns at the thought of her fearing me. I’d move heaven and hell to keep her safe. To keep that innocent sweetness she holds intact. She is dear to me. I could never let anything happen to her. Ever.

She looks up at me with tear filled eyes and shakes her head. Her whole body is shaking and she’s so pale that I worry she’s going into shock. I wrap her in my arms just as she lets out a choked sob.

“Shh…I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

Another choked sob and I lift her into my arms, holding her closer and tighter than I normally would. The fight has been broken up and the troublemakers are laid out on the ground in flexi-cuffs as per protocol. I stride past the mess of bystanders, toppled furniture, and broken glass. I’m halfway to my office when Jackie intercepts us, stopping my progress.

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