In a Fix (Torus Intercession 2)

“You’re deliberate with your intention when you’re interested.”

“I don’t––”

“You sat with me last night, and you stayed there, didn’t move, and really, I’ve had all your interest since we met.”

“Yes, you have,” he confessed, his eyes scrunching up, brows furrowing like it was a lot of honesty with us face to face.

I shrugged. “And let’s face it, you haven’t taken your eyes off me unless you had to. You didn’t check out anyone else when we walked through the casino, and you invited me home, to your house, and you already told me you don’t have anyone.”

He nodded.

“All of that tells me you have nothing to hide, and that you’re too careful not to use protection. So me swallowing your load was absolutely safe.”

There was a moment where our gazes locked and there was nothing but the two of us, together.

“You watch me, and you listen to me,” he said softly before he pulled me down into another scorching kiss.

We were never getting out of the parking lot.

I was surprised when he bit me and lifted up, chuckling.

“I want to take you home.”

“Please,” I teased him.

“Fuck, I’m in so much trouble,” he groaned as I opened the door and got out of the car so he could sit up, tuck himself back into his underwear, and zip and button and buckle.

And as I stood there beside the car, I realized that I too was possibly swimming in the deep end. Because yes, I wanted to sleep with him, but I also wanted to talk to him, and I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

“Get in,” he ordered me, and I realized he’d climbed back over the console to the driver’s seat. “I wanna get you home.”

Once I was in, he waited while I put on my seat belt, and once that was done, he leaned in to get another kiss.

No doubt about it, I was in way over my head.

He lived in Westgate, a neighborhood in Henderson, Nevada, which was only twenty minutes from Las Vegas. Normally, he said, he drove it even faster, but he wanted me to see how pretty the area was.

“Oh, it’s yellow,” I said, commenting on his house as we made the turn into the driveway, loving the color, bright and cheerful, and the trees and bushes in the immaculately landscaped front yard.

“Do you like yellow?”

“I do,” I told him, as the garage door slowly opened.

As soon as we got out of the car, two guys crossed the street, and one of them called to Dallas from the sidewalk.

“This guy’s just a neighbor,” he told me.

“Some reason you’re telling me that?”

He shrugged. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about anything or anybody.”

It was nice, thoughtful, like he didn’t want me to make any assumptions.

He tipped his head at the door that led from the garage to the house. “You can go ahead in, and I’ll see what they need. The alarm code is––”

“I’ll wait,” I told him. “I shouldn’t just go walking into your house without you.”

“You can, I don’t mind.”

Which meant there were no secrets inside that he was worried about me seeing, nothing I could take the wrong way, nothing that would make me rethink spending time with him.

“I’m worried about leaving you out here all by yourself,” I teased him. “What if you forget about me?”

His gaze fused with mine. “Not possible,” he murmured, taking hold of the lapel of my suit jacket, pulling me after him until I fell into step beside him.

“Dallas,” the man on the left greeted him, glancing at me and then away. “Where have you been the last couple of days?”

“Working,” Dallas told him, his hand on the small of my back. “Steve, this is Croy; Croy, this is Steve and—I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Trent. Trent Rossiter,” he said, his gaze mapping every inch of Dallas Bauer. “We keep missing each other whenever I’m over here visiting Steve.”

“Oh, you’re his buddy who works at the brokerage firm with him.”

“I am.”

Dallas nodded, smiling, and then stepped closer to me. “It’s nice to finally meet you, but if you’ll excuse us, we’ve gotta be somewhere else soon. We’re just makin’ a pit stop.”

“Oh,” Steve said playfully. “On a big case.”

“Yeah, actually,” Dallas said, chuckling. “Nice to meet you, Trent.”

“It’s really nice to meet––”

“So, how much do you like yellow?” Dallas asked, turning me around, draping his left arm over my shoulder, around my neck, hanging on me and leaning at the same time, his nose bumping my temple, his breath in my ear.

“What are you doing?” I was chuckling as his free hand settled on my right cheek, turning my head so I was facing him as we walked back into the garage. “I think your buddy Steve is trying to hook you up with Trent.”