Page 50 of Crave Me

I lay on the soft sheets with the blankets wrapped tightly around me and stare out the big window again. The moon isn’t as bright tonight, blocked by Aspen Ridge’s near-constant cloud cover, but it looks like the snow has finally stopped. I lay here and think about the last few days and how quickly everything changed. I do everything I can to convince myself that falling for my boss is a terrible, awful idea, until sleep claims me.

I’m wide awake, never able to fully rest since moving in with the Cains. The turn of my doorknob sets alarm bells off in my head and I quickly roll to my side, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping that he’ll just go away. The door opens for a moment before closing again and I hold my breath tightly. Maybe it was just Sherry checking that I didn’t sneak out. I wait in silence for a moment before the soft patter of his steps comes closer and closer to my bed. My body begins to shake, fear racking my limbs. Flight or fight aren’t the only two options. Sometimes fear has such a strong grip that you’re frozen.

“I know you’re awake, Blaire. I know you’re waiting for me. I can smell your arousal calling to me.”

I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I hate my life. I hate that my parents were coked-up drug addicts who would rather shoot up than take care of their child. I hate the foster care system. I hate that I don’t have any power or control. I hate my body and the attention it brings.

His rough hands drag the blanket off of me, exposing my body to him. I purposefully wear as much clothing as possible in hopes of deterring him. I never want to give the wrong impression and am so aware of what men see and want. His hand dips under my sweatshirt and I lock my arm down to prevent him from going any higher.

“Don’t play hard to get. I know you want this. Let Daddy take care of you.” My stomach turns while my head swims with what to do. His hand starts to dip south, and I no longer have control over my body, I jerk upright and throw up all over my blankets, my body emptying itself from the fear and adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

“You disgusting bitch!” His hand comes down hard and fast across my cheek, bouncing my head off the wall next to me. “Clean this fucking mess up. I’ll be back, Blaire. This is happening. You owe me for all the shit we do for you.”

“Baby, it’s okay. Blaire, wake up, it’s just a nightmare, you’re safe. Baby, come back to me.”

I’m pulled from my nightmare by Dallas’ voice, and his body surrounding mine. I’m tangled in the bedsheets, my body drenched in sweat, and my chest heaving as I gasp for air. My eyes fly open to find him in only his briefs, one big arm wrapped around me, the other brushing the hair out of my face and cupping my cheek.

“There she is. Breathe. You’re at my house in my guest room, you’re safe. Just breathe for me, yeah?”

The nausea settles as I gain control over my breathing. His smell envelopes me in a warm caress, and I allow myself to lean into it. I’ve never been able to calm down after one of these nightmares so quickly. But right now, I feel so comforted, so safe—a first for me.

“That was some nightmare, princess. Are you okay?”

“No . . . I’m really not.” My voice is hoarse, barely audible. I must have been screaming. I wait for embarrassment to wash over me, but it doesn’t come.

“C’mere.” Dallas untangles me from the sheets and crawls under them with me, pulling my body flush against his. His body is warm and envelopes me completely, his arms wrapping around me, his hand running up and down my spine. I take a deep inhale of his scent and my heartbeat slows. Wrapped in a bubble of comfort that I’ve never experienced before, I rest my head on his large chest and listen to his steady breathing, his calm heartbeat. Sinking into him, I allow myself this rare moment of safety.

“Sleep. I’ve got you. I’ll chase all your demons away.”

Tears escape my eyes, because for the first time in my life, I don’t feel alone.

Chapter Seventeen

Dallas

Waking up to Blaire’s screams from my guest bedroom had me hauling ass across the hall to get to her. I wasn’t prepared to find her fighting something in her sleep, tossing and turning, while her voice turned hoarse from her cries. Comforting her was the only thing I could do; I can’t fight something that isn’t in front of us. Her warm body is tucked into me, and I let my hand roam her soft skin to soothe her. She fits so perfectly in my arms, and I want nothing more than to hold her and give her peace.

I’ve never wanted this before; to comfort someone so affectionately and intimately. Fuck, even kissing. That’s always been a hard line for me. Kissing leads to feelings and I haven’t found anyone that I’ve ever wanted to chance it with. But kissing Blaire is a need. I struggle the rest of the night between what could be terrorizing her sleep and the aftermath of the last few days together. Can I really just go back to normal after this? Can I walk away from this woman and not have her again?

I hold Blaire until the morning when she starts to wake. She’s still on her side, her thigh thrown over my hip, her head nuzzled into my chest. I never knew it could feel so good to have someonewake up in my arms like this. Her sleepy eyes flutter open, giving me my first glimpse of the stormy blue hue.

“Good morning.”

“Hi. What time is it?” she asks, her voice groggy from sleep.

“Doesn’t really matter when we’re snowed in, does it?”

“Your nickname really is perfect, you do know that right?”

I swat at her ass and she giggles, moving away from me. She stands from the bed, and I’m surprised at the feeling of disappointment that washes over me. I want to pull her back in here with me, keep her wrapped up in my arms the rest of the day.

“Meet you in the kitchen?” she says sheepishly. Her posture is all wrong and it immediately makes me nervous. Her arms are folded across her chest, her shoulders slumped forward. I’m hoping that it’s just that she wants me out so she can do her business in private, which is stupid since I’ve been inside her in every way imaginable. I get up and kiss her forehead.

“I’ll make some coffee. Take your time.”

I leave her to do her thing, stopping by my room to pull on sweats and grab my phone from its charger. While coffee brews, I pull up my texts and get caught up on the missed messages. I scroll through two days’ worth of texts in my sibling group chat and pause to read the last few.

Liam:

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