One Lucky Hero (8 page)

As her motions started jerking and her rhythm faltered, Dean reached up and squeezed her breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over the nipples until she broke, her orgasm a thing of beauty. Every sound, every move she made was like a sensual dance, and as she slowed, her hands covering his pecs, she opened those beautiful eyes, and a soft, mischievous smile tilted the corner of her lips.

“I want to ride again.”

Dean chuckled, caught up in this crazy girl who had taken him completely by surprise.

“Baby, you can have as many rides as you want.” Gripping her hips, he lifted her up and slid her back down his length slowly. “But this one isn't over yet.”

V
IOLET WOKE UP
slowly, aware that she was sprawled across Dean's hard body and that his arm had her pinned there as if he was afraid she'd escape. Smiling, she stroked her fingers over his skin. There was not a part of her body that wanted to leave the warmth of Dean's bed.

But her body didn't understand reality: This was just a night of passion that would be seared into her brain when she was old and gray. Dean wasn't her Prince Charming, and there was no happily-ever-after here. She couldn't afford a relationship, not with how crazy her life was now. Between taking care of Casey and Daisy, supporting them, and keeping Casey out of trouble, she already had her hands full.

So, how was she going to manage a casual relationship? Last night the concept had sounded great, especially since she'd wanted Dean intensely.

But there was no way she could take off in the middle of the night for a booty call, unless Casey just happened to be at a friend's house. And how could she possibly explain her situation to Dean without telling him everything about her past, her family?

No, she couldn't do it, no matter how explosively happy and satisfied it might make her. Amazing orgasms weren't worth screwing her family over.

As she tried to slide off him, she winced. Dean had been right; she was definitely sore.

“Where you going?”

His gruff question made her jump.

“God, you're a light sleeper.”

Dean rolled over her, her head pillowed on his forearm. “Were you going to sneak off without a good-bye?”

“No, I was just going to use your bathroom.”

He could probably tell she was lying. “Right. Well, you know where it is.” To her surprise, he leaned over and gave her a hard, fast kiss. “If you are really nice to me, I'll take you out for breakfast.”

“Actually, I should probably be getting home. Lots of stuff to do today.” Besides, she wanted to be there before Casey and Daisy arrived.

“I can get you home with plenty of time for whatever you need to do,” he said.

Violet got up from the bed, hiding her horrified expression. That was all she needed, to have some strange guy drop her off at her crappy, ghetto house.

Violet decided not to argue, at least not while she was buck naked. She gathered up her clothes as she made her way to the door and ignored his whistle. Her face burned, but it wasn't as if she hadn't let him see every inch of her last night.

And God, it had been good. Not just the sex, but letting go of all the crap for one night and just not caring. Just enjoying life and taking it by the balls.

Violet locked the bathroom and used Dean's mouthwash. She couldn't wait to use her toothbrush, disgusted by the film she could still feel across the surface of her teeth. She probably stunk, too. Searching through the cabinets under his sink, she came up empty on towels. Then she remembered the cabinet in the hallway.

Still feeling a little shy, she peeked her head out the door. “Hey, Dean, could you grab me a towel?”

Dean came out of the bedroom naked as a jaybird, and she glanced away, staring at her feet. Despite the fact that she'd had her hands and mouth all over his body just hours ago, staring at him was awkward.

“Here you go.” Dean held the towel out but not close enough. To grab it, she'd have to step into the hallway.

“Can you bring it closer?”

“Nope.” Waving the folded towel at her with one hand, his grin turned downright lecherous. “Come and get it.”

Violet rolled her eyes and leaned out as far as she could . . .

Suddenly, Dean pushed the door open and grabbed her arm, pulling her out into the hallway.

Gripping her chin gently, he raised her gaze to his. “Want some company?”

Her traitorous knees weakened at the thought of running her soapy hands over all that gorgeous muscle, but damn it, she had to be strong.

Suddenly, Dean pressed her back into the wall, the towel trapped between their bodies as he kissed her, his hand searing her thigh, hip, and side as he trailed his fingers over her skin. Violet had just looped both of her arms around his neck when rock music blared from down the hall. Dean cupped her cheek in his hand, tracing her lips with his thumb. He kissed her again, sweeping his tongue across her lips before finally pulling away.

“Hold that thought.”

What thought? Every time he touches you, thought and reason go right out the window.

He disappeared into the living room. “I don't know this number.”

“I never answer numbers I don't know.”

She wrapped the towel around her body as she padded down the hallway. She had left her tote in the living room last night and wanted to check her phone, in case one of the kids needed her. Pulling the tote up onto the arm of the couch, she rummaged through it until she found her phone. When she pressed the button to light up the screen, nothing happened.

Crap, her phone had died sometime during the night.

Dean's phone blared again.

“What's the number?”

He recited off the numbers of Tracy's cell, and she nodded. “Answer it. It's Tracy. She's probably been calling my phone, but it's dead.”

“And now she's making sure you're not in a jar in my fridge.”

“Most likely.” Tracy would have been panicked when Violet didn't answer.

Dean answered, and after several seconds of silence, he held the phone out to her.

“Hey, Tracy,” Violet said, taking the phone from him. “Sorry, my phone died. How'd you get this number, anyway?”

“I asked Tyler for it when you didn't pick up. Girl, you scared me to death! Why didn't you put it on that portable charger thing I got you?”

“I forgot it at home, but no worries, I'm fine.” Glancing at Dean, she whispered, “Better than fine.”

“Vi, honey, as much as I want to delve into all the details of your
better than fine
, we have a problem.”

Dread took hold. “What's wrong?”

“There was a message from Casey on my phone last night. Apparently, he was trying to get ahold of you and figured you were with me. Babe, he got arrested.”

Violet closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to cry. “For what?”

“He didn't say, but he's at the juvenile facility off of Bradshaw. I already called in sick, and Tyler gave me the address to your stud muffin's house, so I am on my way to pick you up. We'll head over to get Casey. With any luck, he hasn't done anything that will get him any time. Hopefully we can walk in and out with little trouble.”

Violet wrapped her free arm around her middle, a comforting gesture as she turned her back on Dean. A thousand scenarios raced through her mind, each one worse than the last, and suddenly all she wanted to do was get to her brother.

“Thanks, Trace, I'll see you in a few.”

“Ten four.”

Violet clicked off the call and, taking a shaky breath, turned to hand Dean his phone. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked.

Violet blinked back tears, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. This was the third time Casey had been picked up by the police. They had let him off with a warning both times before and just driven him home, but last time, the officer had warned her that if it happened again, they were going to prosecute him. Once Casey had charges brought against him, she couldn't be sure Child Protective Services wouldn't come sniffing around. It wouldn't be the first time she'd handled CPS and kept her siblings with her, but what if her luck had run out?

Strong biceps wrapped around her, and she barely noticed the fact that she was basically falling apart in the arms of a naked stranger. She had wanted just one night of freedom.

And she was being punished for it.

Pulling away, she blinked several times, cursing the tears that escaped. “Sorry, I've got to get dressed. Tracy is on her way.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Maybe I can help.”

“No, thank you. It's just time for me to get back to reality.” Violet started back toward the bathroom, but he dogged her footsteps.

“Violet, I know we don't know each other well, but if you're in some kind of trouble—”

“It's not that I don't appreciate the offer.” She stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, blinking rapidly. If she didn't get inside, she was going to break down into a messy, weeping ball, and she didn't want him to see that. “There's just nothing you can do except let me get dressed.”

Dean placed his hand on the door when she tried to close it, and she made the mistake of meeting his heavy gaze, so filled with concern.

“Can you please let go?” Her voice broke on the last word, and she hated that she still cried. Every time shit hit the fan, she was sure she had no more pain, grief, or tears left. But she did. She was weak, had always been weak.

Just like her mother.

Dean stepped back, maybe because he'd heard the desperation in her voice or because he got tired of trying. Whatever it was, she didn't care.

She just needed to escape.

“Thank you for everything.” Closing the door with a soft click and locking it, she slid to the floor and sobbed into her arms.

D
EAN STARED AT
the closed door for several minutes, the sound of Violet's muffled sobs tearing into him like a razor blade. From the moment he'd laid eyes on her, nothing about this had been a typical hookup. And if he'd been any other guy, he'd have been dying to get her the hell out of his place.

Instead, he wanted to unlock the door and hold her again, to coax whatever was going wrong in her life out of her so he could fix it. It was what he did. As the oldest of six, he had always been the fixer. One of his brothers was being bullied? He busted the other kid's nose. His sister's boyfriend got a little too pushy? He handled it.

But how did he convince a girl he just met to trust him with her problems?

Someone knocked on the front door, and he reluctantly left his post to grab his boxers off the floor of the bedroom.

“Hang on,” he called as he came back down the hall.

He pulled the door open, and Tracy didn't wait for him to invite her inside, just stepped right past him. She gave him a cursory once-over, her lips twitching slightly like she wanted to comment on his seminudity, but she refrained.

“Where is she?” she asked.

“She's in the bathroom. First door on the left.”

She nodded and walked briskly down the hallway, knocking softly. “Vi, it's me. You about ready to go?”

“I'll be out in a minute.” Her voice was raspy and wet.

“Damn it.” Tracy glanced his way with a grimace. “Sorry for all the drama.”

Dean motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen and was relieved when she did. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I'm on a caffeine detox. Haven't had so much as a sip in over a week.”

“How's that going?” There was no way he could give up caffeine.

“It fucking blows,” she said.

Dean started up the pot and turned back to face Tracy. “I know it's none of my business, but what happened?”

Tracy's face locked into a steely expression. “You're right, it's not your business.”

Dean already knew that, but still, being pretty much told to fuck off in his own house rankled him. “Be that as it may, I've got a hysterical woman crying her eyes out in my bathroom, so if I can help, I'd like to.”

Tracy seemed to be sizing him up, and he held her dark gaze, refusing to give an inch.

“Look, I don't know what happened between you two last night, but I'm not going to tell my friend's hookup intimate details about her life.”

“Fine, that's fair.” What else could he say when she was so very right? He didn't really want to know what was going on with Violet, did he? That would mean getting involved. Actually caring about her life and growing attached.

“Look, just so we have this all out in the open,” Tracy continued, “Violet has a ton of shit on her plate. Whatever you two did, it's out of her system. She's not going to call, text, or write. You had a thing, it's over, and you can go your separate ways, right?”

Irrational anger coursed through him, despite the sneaking suspicion that it was exactly what Violet had planned. No lengthy, casual affair. Just a wham, bam, thank you, ma'am with her planning on taking off before he woke up.

And even though that was what he'd wanted, too, an insane part of him was actually butt-hurt that she wanted nothing more to do with him. Dean couldn't stop the sarcasm from lacing his tone. “Maybe she should decide that.”

Dean hadn't heard Violet leave the bathroom, but as she walked into the living room, he started.

“Decide what?” she asked.

Tracy gave him a pointed
keep-your-mouth-shut
glare before turning a beaming flash of teeth at Violet. “Nothing, girl. You good to go?”

Violet's gaze flickered to Dean. “Yeah, I just . . . Do you mind giving us a minute? I'll be right out.”

Tracy seemed perturbed at being dismissed but gave Dean a nod before walking out the door.

Dean studied Violet's red, splotchy face as she gave him a forced smile. “Well, this is a really awkward way to say good-bye, huh?”

“It's a first for me, yeah.” Every fiber of his being wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but her body language was guarded, her arms crossed over her chest protectively, like she was putting up a barrier between them.

“I'm really sorry for falling apart like that. My life is just really complicated, which I may have mentioned, and it's why relationships just aren't in the cards for me.” She ran her fingers through her hair, only making it wilder, and Dean wanted to smooth it back for her, cup the back of her head and bring her against him.

Still, he didn't move, simply let her ramble on.