The Reluctant Romantics Box Set (The Fall, The Mind, The Heart)

Ain’t this some shit, Whitaker!

“I didn’t know you were in here. I was just going to wash up before dinner,” I said, as if that would excuse my blatant ogling of his body and beautiful dick. I fought that picture in my mind as he came back, holding a cold washrag to my nose.

“Keep it up, Dallas,” he scolded sweetly as I lay on his bed, looking anywhere but at him, wondering if he was still naked. Tilting my head back, he cradled it as he pinched m

y nose tightly, willing it to stop bleeding. His sweat-filled scent filled my senses, bringing me back to a time when I had the right to touch him, when I belonged to him, and he to me.

This whole day had been a reminder of the way things had been and how much he and his family had once meant to me. My eyes filled with tears as I finally braved a look at him. He was staring down at me with concern.

“It hurts that bad?” he asked as he wiped away the blood from underneath my nose. I nodded my head slowly. He seemed to catch my double meaning as he grabbed my hand and placed it on the rag so I could hold it myself.

“I’m sorry, mi Hermosa, Dallas, ¿no ves que aún te amo?” he whispered again, studying my face, his eyes filled with hurt as he stroked me with both hands. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against my cheek and lingered. I stiffened in his arms afraid of what I would do if his kiss drifted even a fraction toward my mouth. I wanted him with every single breath I took. My body was on fire for him in a distant but familiar way. He closed his eyes and cursed, pulling away from me.

“Keep it up for a few minutes longer and it should stop the bleeding. I’ll get you some pain reliever when it does, okay?” I nodded again, keeping my eyes trained on his.

He lifted off the bed slowly and walked back into the bathroom then closed the door.

Dean and I were quiet at dinner, my eyes trained on anything but him as his mother took turns speaking to both of us in English and Spanish. After about a half hour of half-assed conversation, I began to clear the table. Dean followed suit, helping me with the dishes in silence. I broke it briefly. “It’s not your fault, Dean. There’s no way you could have known—”

“I got caught up in my career. I just didn’t want to see her pain. I was selfish and it almost cost me my mother. I am to blame for that, Dallas. I should’ve been here, for her. What kind of man deserts his own mother?”

“You didn’t,” I said, taking the dish from his hand. “You just got lost in your own pain for a while.” He looked up to me, his eyes filled with unshed tears and nodded quickly before walking away.

“Dean—” I said to his retreating back. He stopped briefly, keeping his back to me as I fought to keep my voice steady.

“You are a good man, and a good son. Please believe me. And if you won’t believe me, believe her. There is no love lost here. She doesn’t blame you for anything. She’s fine and she adores you.”

“And what about you, Dallas?” When I said nothing, I saw his shoulders sag as he continued to make his way out of the room.

After two more shows with his mother, I excused myself and stepped out onto the porch as the sun was setting. The overgrown garden lit up with lightening bugs, and I smiled at their arrival. It was a surprisingly cool night as I breathed in the smell of the freshly cut grass, courtesy of Dean, and enjoyed the peace. I heard the door open behind me, but kept facing the front lawn.

“Rita should be here in a few hours.” He walked out onto the porch just as the crickets started their symphony.

“I’m fine. Really, it’s been a relaxing day. I don’t get those often. I’m happy to be here.” I winced as a small pain from my newly damaged nose hit me and he saw it as he sat on the porch next to me.

“Still hurts?” he asked, masking a small smile before cracking up laughing. “Did you like the show?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. And yes it still hurts. Feel free to laugh, you jerk. I would’ve if the situation were reversed.” I said nudging him with my shoulder as he sat next to me.

“If the situation would have been reversed, I’d still be pushing inside of you until you begged me to stop and even then I wouldn’t,” he said roughly.

“Dean,” I groaned, standing slowly to turn in front of him. “You have to stop saying things like that. I can’t justify spending time with you to my boyfriend. It’s not fair to him,” I scolded as I squeezed my thighs to stifle the ache between them. Standing in front of him now in nothing but a pair of short shorts and a tight fitting tank, I felt bared to him. The automatic light from the porch came on and washed us both in half-light. Our eyes were locked as my pulse escalated. The shift in air between us was filled with electricity. He reached out with both hands and placed them on my thighs just above my knees. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep as the pads of his thumbs began to caress the top of them.

“I remember how good you felt, Dallas. How your body reacted to me every time I took you,” he whispered, leaning forward, sliding his hands up slowly and purposefully before tearing them away and whispering softly, “I can’t imagine a worse kind of hell than seeing you in front of me again and not being able to touch you.”

“Dean, you said you would leave it alone,” I reminded, getting lost in his eyes. I felt my nipples peak in arousal and he didn’t miss it. We stayed like that for several minutes, both of us on the edge and inching closer. Finally, I took a step away from him and he exhaled, breaking our connection. He stood and walked back into the house. My eyes stayed trained on the door as my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Josh.

“Hi,” I said enthusiastically, trying to mask the emotion of my last conversation.

“Hey, babe, you haven’t texted all day,” he said, sounding concerned.

“I’m with a friend who has a sick mother. We are trying to get her taken care of then I’ll be coming to you,” I offered.

“Who is the friend?” His words were ice. I knew then I was going to catch hell when I told him the truth.

“Josh, it’s not what you think,” I explained, sitting back down on a harsh exhale. “And you have to trust me.” I added forcefully.

“I don’t trust him, and I won’t apologize for that,” he said sternly. “I’m trying. Dallas…look, I don’t want to fight. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Just hurry up, okay?”