Damaged: The Dillon Sisters by Layla Frost (good story books to read .txt) 📕

Reaching the kitchen, I let out a muffled yelp when he grabbed my hips and lifted. He set me on the kitchen island before opening the fridge and handing me a root beer—my drink of choice during our last failed date.

Was that disaster only a week ago?

And now this one isn’t going much better.

Alexander began pulling ingredients from the fridge. It didn’t take me long before I realized what he was going to make.

Mexican.

I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to fuss. We could’ve picked up Taco Bell or ordered pizza and it would’ve been a treat. Actually, just being with him was.

Or it would be if he wasn’t tenser than me—which was saying something.

My fight-or-flight instincts were revving up. Except in my case, they were just flight-or-flight instincts.

Before I could make an excuse to leave, Alexander looked at me. “Do I embarrass you?”

It was such an absurd idea, I couldn’t hold in a burst of laughter.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m serious.”

“That makes it funnier. Why would you even think that?”

“You wouldn’t show me the rest of the shelter.”

“I said I’d show you next time.” I’d even meant it as a compromise, rather than my usual insincere evasiveness.

He grabbed a knife from a magnetic strip on his wall. The sight of him holding the sharp steel sent a depraved shiver through my body, creating a surge of arousal. Oblivious to the effect he had on me, he began chopping an onion. “You were strung so tight at the shelter, it’s a wonder you didn’t splinter apart when I touched you. You couldn’t wait to get me the hell out of there.”

And that was what did it.

Not when I let him cut me.

Not when I let him fuck me.

Not when I let him finger fuck me on my kitchen table.

That moment, beyond all the other insane and abnormal ones we’d shared, was when I made a decision.

I was in.

Because that show of doubt and vulnerability called to me almost as much as his darkness. I understood it.

I felt it.

I set my drink on the counter and hopped down. Alexander didn’t stop chopping, but his shoulders bunched as he waited to see what I was doing. Coming behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist, my fingers dancing down his shirt covered abs. I rested my cheek against his back and did something I rarely did. I shared. “I don’t like attention. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you tend to attract a lot since you’re so…”

“Handsome?” he filled in, his words light when his tone was anything but. “Hot? A magnetic force of sexual energy that you’re addicted to?”

Yes.

All of that and so much more.

“Maybe a tiny, little, itty-bit good looking,” I lied instead. “Between that and the fact I’ve never had anyone visit me at work, it made everyone nosy. Which put me on edge.” Inhaling, I closed my eyes before blurting, “Plus, I’ve been looking forward to being here all day.”

The last word had barely left my mouth when Alexander turned suddenly, lifting me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he began walking, my lips trailing his jaw. When I bit down, he stopped just as quick.

“Close enough.” He set me on my feet to shove my leggings and panties down. I kicked them and my shoes off as he tugged my shirt and bra over my head. Once I was naked, he lifted me onto a hard surface and dropped to his knees between my spread legs.

There was no teasing or buildup. Like he’d been starved, he gripped my spread thighs and devoured me.

Rough in his worship.

Gentle in his ferventness.

Gripping his hair, I tugged his head up where I wanted it. Where I needed it.

And Alexander, the blessedly perceptive man, took my not-so-subtle hint and focused on my clit. Sucking. Nipping. Flicking his tongue so rapidly, my legs began to shake and my ass came off the table.

If he’d thought I was strung tight before, it was nothing compared to right then. But that meant, when the tension finally broke, I didn’t just come apart. I didn’t splinter.

I fucking shattered.

Mind blank of anything but pure bliss, I held him to me as I came.

As the aftershocks buzzed through my body, I dropped to my back, my head hitting the table with a thunk. I was too relaxed to care. Alexander lazily lapped until I was a boneless heap of satisfaction.

The serotonin rush.

The hazy thoughts.

The loose muscles and content high.

It was more effective than any of the copious amounts of meds I’d taken. More gratifying than therapy. And a lot more fun than yoga, meditation, or journaling.

I could get used to this.

I could become addicted.

Standing, Alexander ran a hand down his mouth before licking his palm—as if he couldn’t let one single drop of me go to waste. His gaze traveled over me. “Never gonna be able to eat at this table without getting hard.”

I sat up and stretched before glancing behind me at the large, and thankfully sturdy, table. “That’ll make dinner parties awkward.” I thought for a moment. “Or a lot of fun.”

“Maybe we’ll throw one and find out.” Before I could respond, he asked, “Hungry?”

Eyeing the impressive bulge in his jeans, I nodded.

“For dinner,” he clarified, though his voice was thick and rough. He stepped back so I could get down.

“What about taking care of you—”

Closing the minimal distance he’d put between us, he took my mouth in a kiss that was as hard and frantic as the way he’d eaten me.

I could taste him and mint and me.

It was a heady combination.

He ended the kiss but kept his face close. “Let’s feed you and then you can take care of me by letting me fuck you from behind.”

“So you’re giving me two things I really want.”

Smiling, he pulled his shirt off before tugging it over my head. I was swimming in it, but since it was so soft—and he was so shirtless—I wasn’t complaining.

“Are all tech nerds