Page 12 of Dash

She snorts before cursing at the sticky mess on her thighs. “I have to clean up. Thanks for making my evening a little better.”

She walks off towards the bathroom, still holding her underwear in her hand and just before she turns the corner, she gives me a smirk that goes right to my cock.

“Maybe I’ll see you around, Dash.”

And then she’s gone, and I realise how right Riot and Mace were when they said this girl is trouble. Because she just bulldozed through my life, and now that I’ve tasted her, there is no way I’m not going back for more.

FOUR

DAYNA

My mouth feelslike I licked a cactus. The dramatic groan that spills from my lips is both a cry for help and a reminder of why I shouldn’t mix tequila and wine.

How much did I drink last night?

Too much.

The bar was free, and I have zero self-control.

I peel my eyes open, a little scared of where I might be, and relief floods me at the familiar walls. Thank fuck I’m in my bed. The throb along my temple is punishment enough without waking with regrets.

Why the hell do I allow myself to drink so much?If I’m being honest, I’d admit I have a problem, but honesty is for people who want to deal with their shit. I want to bury mine in deep fucking holes where no one will ever find any of the things that tear through my delicate, broken walls.

I’m fine… I’m?—

Screwed.

I fucked Ivy’s biker friend.

It comes back to me in a rush, as if the forgotten pieces are stitched back together in the clarity of the morning light streaming through the gaps in my bedroom curtains.

Every humiliating word that spilled from my mouth plays on an embarrassing loop. Oh.Fuck.

I cover my face with my pillow. Maybe I can suffocate myself and forget any of it happened.

The man is… well, he’s gorgeous. There’s no other word for it. Dash has a body designed for sinning and I took full advantage of that. The ache between my legs is a delicious reminder of just how much.

I let him fuck me against the wall in some corridor in Maylie’s strip bar. That might be a new low, even by my usually shit standards.

Not even a bed.

I groan into the pillow. “Fucking hell, Dayna.”

But it made me feel something, even if it was only while he was inside me. I was able to ignore that eroding darkness that clings to my bones. I felt worth something because he wanted me, even if it was only my body.

Dash…

He was nothing more than a bandage for the wounds I carry.

I force myself out of bed and into the shower. I can feel where he’s been inside me as I wash myself, feel the invisible marks he left on my skin where he touched me.

I’ve never felt that before, not with any of the men I’ve been with, and I don’t want to feel it with him either. Sex isn’t a gateway to something more. It’s not a path to picket fences, marriage, babies, and a happily ever after.

It’s a balm to calm the noise in my head, to drown out the feelings of loathing that sit in my chest like barbs.

Dash is just another victim of my spiral into the pit I’ve been trying to crawl out of since I was eight years old and my family lost everything.

He’s not future plans.

---