Dream Chaser (Dream Team, #2)(16)

“I lost the kids.”

His eyes opened and his head moved back a smidge.

“What?” he asked.

“I confronted Angelica. She says she’s not going to let me see the kids anymore. I had her using me this morning. You up in my shit right after. Her taking the kids away from me after that. Work. Cisco. Now you again, totally pissed at me. I can’t. I’m tired. And I’m freaked out. And I just can’t. Not today. Not from you. Especially from you. No more.”

His fist loosened in my hair, but he didn’t let it go, so I felt my hair, and his knuckles, glide along my jaw.

It felt amazing.

God!

Didn’t he hear me?

I couldn’t take any more.

“You gotta go,” I said.

“Ryn, I’m seein’ you are not taking in what’s going on here.”

“You’re pissed at me again. And I can’t believe I have to point out that I didn’t kidnap me.”

“When did you call Mag?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe half an hour ago.”

“And where am I right now?”

I blinked, repeatedly, fast.

Oh.

“It sinks in,” he said softly.

“You told me you didn’t like me not twenty-four hours ago.”

“I was pissed at you not twenty-four hours ago,” he returned. “I want to take you out to dinner. I want to take you to my bed. And eventually, I wanna tie you to it. And I’m used to getting what I want.”

My toes curled.

My mind rebelled.

“You have a woman.”

“I’m seeing someone, and like I said, it isn’t exclusive. She sees other guys. She probably fucks other guys. That’s not my business because, again, we are not exclusive. And what I do isn’t her business either.”

Seriously?

He was just not getting that I could take no more.

“So…what? You want me to be the other woman?” I asked.

His head jerked.

“Thanks, Boone. That clears things up about how you feel about me. It’s all better now.”

He was back to speaking softly when he said, “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re not getting it either,” I shared.

“I’m not getting what?”

“I don’t wanna be that to you.”

At that, for some reason, his beautifully formed lips twitched (don’t think I hadn’t noticed his lips, frequently), he dipped his head again, not as close as before, but close, and he said, “Ryn, sweetheart, we both know that’s a lie.”

“No, I mean, I don’t want to be the other woman. I don’t wanna be your spare piece of ass. I don’t want to vie with some other chick for your attention, with some vague hope I’ll win out in the end. I don’t want to wonder the last time your mouth was on hers when it’s on mine. Or when your dick was in her, when you’re inside me.”

“Ryn—”

“I want someone to be mine,” I stressed. “I really do. But before that, I want them to actually give a shit enough to work at winning me. Not making a passing attempt and then expect me to come to heel. I think you know I’m a sub, Boone. What I’m not is a doormat.”

He had nothing to say to that, he just stared down at me.

“And while we’re sharing,” I kept going, even though he wasn’t exactly sharing, at least not as deeply as I was about to, but to end this and maybe get some peace, I was going to. “I had two guys in my life for decent chunks of time, and they both ended up treating me like shit because I opened myself up to them and confided about my appetites. And they thought it was lame, or sick, or whatever they thought. What they made clear they thought is it gave them license to treat me like dirt. And I got hooked up with a shit Dom who ignored my safe word and took things too far and—”

“Stop,” he clipped.

“I’d like this, whatever it is, to be over, Boone. So let me say what I gotta say.”

“You had a Dom ignore your safe word?”

Okay.

Well, hell.

I was on such a roll, I forgot to pay attention to him.

With the feeling beating off him, and into me, I made note never to do that again.

“As you can see, I’m all right,” I assured.

“Name,” he grunted.

“What?”

I jumped when he suddenly thundered, “What’s his goddamn name, Ryn!”

For the first time ever, I touched him.

Curling my fingers around the side of his neck, I said quietly, “Calm down, Boone. I’m fine.”

“Give me his name, Kathryn, because if you don’t, I’ll find him anyway and be in an even worse mood.”

“Laszlo,” I muttered.

“Last name.”

“Boone—”

“Last name, Kathryn,” he clipped.

“Kovack.”

“Right,” he ground out.

Curiosity won over my need to end this torture, so I asked, “What are you gonna do to him?”

“He clearly didn’t have the proper training for the scene. So I’m gonna make sure he gets it.”

He wasn’t wrong about that first.