“Well, I’ve just hired a private investigator and maybe he’ll find something that will resolve this sooner rather than later.”
“Investigator?” I rolled over to look at him. “For what?”
“I want dirt on Veronica.”
That didn’t sound like the Dylan I knew. “That seems a little underhanded.”
His eyes turned fierce. “I’ve never hid the fact that I’d do anything to keep Maisie. Besides, there’s something about this that doesn’t feel right. Why go for sole custody after being gone for years? Why not ask for joint?”
He was right about that, but still. “What if he finds something?”
“Then I’ll use it.”
“What if Veronica and Leo hire someone to check on you?”
“Let ‘em. I have nothing to hide,” he said with confidence. I wondered if that was true. Not that I thought Dylan had a skeleton in his closet, but it was amazingly easy to take some seemingly benign thing and turn it into something malignant. Or maybe they’d figure out our marriage was fake.
“How about, you married your babysitter to get custody?”
He shrugged. “We’ve explained that.”
I was sure that if anyone dug deep enough, they’d find holes in our story. Like how no one in our lives knew we were dating or how neither of us announced our engagement when it was supposed to have happened.
“What about Maisie?” I asked.
He let out an annoyed sigh. “What about her?”
“Do you want to risk her hearing about dirt on her mother? Whether you like it or not, Veronica is Maisie’s mother. Maisie could be hurt—”
“If Maisie is hurt, it’s on Veronica.”
I could see there was no talking to him. There was no reason to try. He’d been clear about my role. About my place. I turned to go to sleep.
“Tessa.” He scooted closer, spooning me. Instinct had me settling against him even as my brain told me to keep my distance.
“Hmm?” I stayed where I was.
“This is me.”
That was a weird statement. I turned my head back. “What do you mean?”
“Deep down, I’m a scrapper. I was raised in a chaotic, sometimes violent home. I survived by fighting. Not necessarily with my fists, although I’d be lying if I said I never used them.”
I turned toward him again as a wave of compassion flowed through me. I wanted to hold the abused boy inside the man next to me.
“I don’t plan to use my fists now, but I’ll fight however I have to. That’s who I am.”
I pressed my hand to his cheek. “I can see that, but you’re also a loving father. You’re a generous caring man. Don’t lose him.”
He stared at me for a long time. “You see that?”
“I do.”
“Maisie has definitely helped me smooth out the rough edges, but—”
“You’ve always been a good person, Dylan. Maisie might have helped you discover him, but he was always there.”
“You’re amazing, do you know that?” His gaze drifted over my face until finally returning to my eyes. “I don’t deserve you—”
I groaned. “Stop. I’m tired of hearing that.”
He smiled. “Sorry. It’s true. I say it mostly when I have powerful feelings of wanting you.”
“What?”
“I want you. When I feel that, I remind myself that I don’t deserve you. I hurt you, and before this is done, I feel like I’ll hurt you more. And yet, I can’t stop wanting you. I can keep myself from touching you, but if you said it was okay, I’d touch you in a minute even though I know I don’t deserve it.”
“What do you deserve?”
“I like to think I deserve to be Maisie’s father.”
“You do.” Touching him would be a mistake. It would give my heart the false feeling that we had something more than we did. Even so, I pulled my nightgown off, loving how his eyes flashed with desire as my bare skin settled against his.
“You deserve to feel good, too.” I wanted to say he deserved me, but he was so in denial about that, I settled on sex.
He pulled me close, and his erection was already fully pressing against my belly. “You do make me feel good, Tessa.” If only I could make him feel love.
“Then you should undress.”
He flashed a wicked grin. “As you wish.” He rolled back, undressing and tossing his clothes aside.
Before he could pull me back to him, I pushed him and straddled his thighs. “I want to try being on top.”
His hands slid up my thighs. “Whatever you want, baby.”
The few times we’d had sex, Dylan took the lead, unless I was giving him a blow job. But even then, he’d eventually get me under him or between him and the shower wall, and take control. This time I wanted a turn to set the pace and be in control.
I looked down at his dick, thick and hard as it lay on his belly. “Sometimes I can’t believe that thing fits in me.”
“It’s a perfect fit,” he murmured as his hands kneaded my breasts and pinched my nipples.
“Do you like it when the woman is on top?”
He laughed. “I’m easy, baby. Top, bottom, sideways … any way, I’ll like it.” He levered up. “But whatever way, you need to be ready.” He tugged on one nipple with his teeth while his finger slid between my folds.
I let out a moan as his touch sent erotic sizzles through me. “Dylan.”
“Yes?” His mouth switched to my other breast.
“I want to be in control.”
“Then take it.”
It was hard to do anything with sweet sensations coursing through my bloodstream. Finding my wits, I pressed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back.
His eyes flashed with heat as he lay looking up at me. “What are you going to do to me?”
I maneuvered over his dick and slid my pussy along its length.
He let out a sigh. There was only one thing I knew how to do. I pushed his tip to my entrance, and using my body
