Page 22 of Dirty Dillon

Maybe he did. Maybe we both did. Something about us clicked into place from the moment we met, like two puzzle pieces made to fit perfectly together.

“I’m going to run you a bath and put you to bed. We’ll deal with the rest of this in the morning.”

If he thinks he’s putting me to bed alone, he’s got another thing coming.

Chapter Seven

Dillon

Ifill the old clawfoottub with warm water, trying to get my anger under control. Cress needs me focused on her right now, not what I’m going to do to make sure Masterson and her father pay for hurting her.

But they will pay.

My hands are shaking with rage. Those fuckers won’t get away with this. Nobody messes with my girl.

I don’t take baths, so I don’t have any bubbles or bath oils or girly things. My mom used to tie a few chamomile tea bags to the spigot, so I give that a shot, letting the soothing scent of the tea blend with the steamy air. I light a handful of emergency candles, and they cast soft shadows on the walls.

Best I can do.

“Come here, sweetheart,” I say softly, reaching out my hand for her. Cressida hesitates, but eventually takes it, allowing me to guide her closer to the tub. I slowly unbutton her blouse, my eyes never leaving her face. “Is this okay?” I ask, pausing my movements.

She’s feeling vulnerable, but there’s trust in her eyes that makes my heart swell. “Y-yes, Dillon,” she whispers, nodding her head. I continue undressing her, willing my cock to behave. This isn’t about getting her naked, it’s about getting her comfortable.

Gently, I lift her into the bath, watching as she sinks into the warm water with a sigh of relaxation.

“Are you comfortable?” I ask, brushing a curl from her forehead. She nods, eyelids fluttering closed. A surge of tenderness warms me watching her relax into my care.

No one has ever taken the time to cherish Cressida, to anticipate her needs before she’s even aware of them herself. But I will. I’ll give her everything she’s been denied, and more. I don’t recognize myself, but this is who I am now.

Maybe I should make her tea for when she gets out? That seems like something she might like. Maybe. I don’t know if she drinks tea.

“Dillon,” she breathes, catching my hand as I move to stand. “Stay.”

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “As if I could ever deny you anything.”

I settle on the floor, content to simply watch over her as she soaks. We sit in silence, the only sound is that of water lapping at the sides of the tub.

---