Page 7 of Treasured
She licked her lips as she sized me up. I hope she saw the me inside that no one else did, the boy who had once competed for everything to prove he was the best. She raised her eyebrow and asked, “You’re serious?”
I twirled her one last time as the song wound down and said, “Yes.”
She laughed and squeezed my ass. “Then you’re on. It’s my one night of freedom.”
And it was my one night to prove I was more than a one-night stand, it seemed.
I wanted to hold her and never let go. No other woman had ever done that to me. I was hers for the taking.
Chapter Three
Mary
Holding a man who was practically double my size and all muscle everywhere was not how I thought I’d spend the night.
Truthfully, I’d not had any man touch me since… stop, now. Arthur wasn’t worth a moment’s thought.
Besides, I was there with Dwayne, and he seemed like a man who’d stepped out of my fantasy to dance with me.
Inside, I was already humming to be his, but that was crazy.
Heck, I was being reckless, but I ached to be held by him.
I didn’t remember ever being truly held, and tonight, being in his arms might make the best moments to cherish.
So I opened the hotel room door with my swipe card and showed him in as I said, “This way.”
As the door closed, my skin prickled. I’d not been alone, with a man, in forever.
Dwayne put his phone on the desk and then turned toward me. My heart was in my throat. “Did you get enough to eat in there, Mary?” he asked.
I let out a small sigh. No need to be so scared. He wasn’t here to hurt me. I shook my head and slipped out of my heels. “We’re not here to eat. Are you getting cold feet?”
I walked toward him, but he took my hands and said, “I’d like to talk first.”
My heart swelled. I would never get romance in my life. I knew it, but this one second was… sweet. However, I lowered my shoulders and arched my eyebrow. “In my hotel room?”
His muscular hand ran up and down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps and zaps aching for more, but he sat on the small sofa and asked, “What can I say? I want to know more about you. How old is your son?”
This wasn’t like my ex. He’d never asked me… anything. He talked about himself, all the time. I lowered myself beside him and fished out my phone as I said, “He’s eighteen months now.”
He motioned with his head, so I pulled up a photo I had taken the week before. He smiled, and butterflies flew in my stomach.
I’d once ached for my son’s father to love us both, but he’d thrown my baby.
My heart had stopped, and I would never forget it.
Dwayne was four times more muscular and could do serious damage to anyone with one push, but he handed me my phone and asked with a brightness in his gaze that made me hunger for him, “Still a baby. What happened with the father?”
The topic. The buzzkill. I met his gaze, and my lips tingled to kiss him. Instead, I glanced down at his hands, which were bigger than my waist, but I wasn’t afraid now. So I said, “He beat me.”
His face went white, and his hands curled. I reached out and squeezed his thumb and ignored the energy that rushed in my veins as he said, “Wait. What?”
Time for the whole truth. If he didn’t want that night, I would get it. Maybe I wasn’t ready for a one-night stand either. “I didn’t leave when that happened. I left when he threw our one-week-old baby against the wall. I almost let my son die because I was afraid to get out. I’m not that stupid anymore.”
He reached out and hugged me.
I leaned in to his embrace. I hadn’t expected this. I had never expected to feel desire in my veins again. He said, “Mary, that’s horrible. A real man protects a woman.”
