Caged (Mastered 4)

Once they were inside the apartment, they’d lost themselves in each other for the next twelve hours. The world outside Deacon’s bedroom ceased to exist.

So Deacon hadn’t realized the implications of what he’d agreed to until the next morning. His father had called again to confirm a family dinner on Thursday night. Then Tag had called an hour later. They’d had a cryptic conversation about contracts, buyouts, investment portfolios and mergers that she’d tried not to listen in on. Deacon ended the call, swearing he wasn’t backing out this time and he’d be there.

He’d booked the tickets, she’d overpacked, and now here they were.

In Texas.

After checking into the hotel, Molly started to get ready to meet Deacon’s family. She smoothed her hands over her hair and checked her appearance. The fawn-brown dress might be too fallish for the middle of summer, but she always felt confident in it. The fabric hung perfectly, not too clingy, not too loose. The wide tweed belt cinched at the waist created an hourglass shape.

As she applied the last coat of mascara, she saw Deacon leaning in the doorjamb, his face unreadable.

“You ready yet?”

“I’m sorry I’m taking so long. I’m nervous.”

“Darlin’, you got no reason for nerves.”

“But this is a big step for me to meet your family.” She reached for a tube of peach lipstick.

He sauntered forward. “You’re wearing your hair like that?”

Molly’s eyes met his in the bathroom mirror. Then she gave his usual—and far too casual for a formal family dinner—sleeveless T-shirt and jeans a pointed look. “Since when do you care about my clothing or how I wear my hair?”

Deacon grabbed the section of loose curls hanging to the top of her right breast and swept it back over her shoulder. “When it’s up, I can do this whenever I want.” He placed an openmouthed kiss behind her ear. “And you know how much I love pulling your hair, because, babe, it gets you so freakin’ hot.”

Gooseflesh had erupted at the first touch of his warm mouth to her skin. “Deacon, stop molesting me or we’ll be late.”

“Don’t care.” His soft exhale made the fine hair on the back of her neck stand up. “You smell so fucking sweet, my Molly.”

She went gooey-kneed when he called her my Molly. It took a ton of willpower to shift away from him, but she did. “I need a few more minutes. Alone,” she stressed. “Then we can go.”

Deacon gifted her with one last love bite before he exited the bathroom.

She pressed her hands flat against the counter and leaned forward to level her breathing. The man could rile her up in no time. She didn’t need to look like she’d been well fucked—or worse, horny as fuck—when meeting his parents for the first time.

Breathe. You can do this.

She swiped deodorant under her arms, hoping to hide her nervous sweat.

When she walked into the hallway between the living area and the bedroom of the hotel suite, she saw Deacon staring out the window with his back to her. He was on the phone. “Not what I needed to hear, Maddox. No. Fuck that. We did this song-and-dance bullshit last weekend. They know what my fucking terms are.” He paused and braced his hand against the window. “Fighting for a living ain’t my only option. Make sure that’s understood.” He went silent as Maddox spoke. Then he said, “That’s why I’m here. I’ll listen to what they have to say. I’m not making any decisions without discussing it with—”

Evidently Maddox had cut him off. Molly wasn’t sure any of this conversation was for her ears—but what had Deacon meant when he’d said fighting for a living ain’t my only option? Had his family offered him another job? Who would he discuss the decision with?

Highly unlikely it’s you.

Annoyed by that thought, she slammed the door to announce her arrival before she returned to the living room suite.

Deacon had turned around to face her. “Look, I gotta go. Yeah.” He scowled. “Whoa. I didn’t ask to hear about your stupid love life, Mad.” He waited as Maddox explained. Then, “Dude, seriously? Hasn’t your monthly pass to bang town with Grandma Moses expired yet? Uh-huh. Well, you stick your nose into my personal business all the damn time, so here’s my advice, asswipe. Cut her loose. ASAP. Later.”

Molly raised an eyebrow after Deacon hung up. “Bang town? Do I even want to know?”

“Babe, I didn’t want to know, but that didn’t matter, because he blathered on about it anyway. What is it with people sharing shit like that with me? Like I’m suddenly Dr. Love or something.”