Masters at Arms (Rescue Me Saga, #0.5)(29)

She looked up from her plate and smiled. The smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

Why did he doubt that?

“That Jerk-off from the hotel doesn’t live with you, does he?”

She glanced back down at her plate. “No. He’s just a…business partner.”

“You need a new partner.”

A tear slid down her cheek and onto the table. Mierda. He’d made her cry again. He reached out and squeezed the hand holding her fork. “I’m sorry. Just tell me that you’re going to be okay when I drop you off.”

She nodded, but didn’t make eye contact.

“Convince me or I won’t take you home.”

Her head came up again. A mixture of fear and excitement flickered in her expressive eyes. “I have to go back. But everything’s going to be fine. Things have…changed.”

Things sure had changed for him, but he didn’t understand what she meant. Then she smiled, pulled her hand out of his grasp, and took a forkful of her Spanish rice and ate it.

They left the restaurant in Laguna nearly an hour later, when he’d given up on her eating any more. He’d prolonged their time together to its limit. Time to take her home.

Darkness engulfed the 5 as they headed south. He’d put his jacket on her again to keep her from getting cold. When they passed the San Onofre power plant, with its pair of red glowing nipples, he couldn’t help but thinking about her breasts pressing against his back, or taking each of her nips in his mouth once more. His still erect dick throbbed.

Not this time, chico.

Once in Rancho, she gave him directions to her particular gate. Taking the remote from her purse, she opened the wrought-iron entrance to her fortress. As the gates opened slowly, he never felt more out of his element.. He half expected St. Peter to be waiting on the other side telling him he needed to park his ass right where it was or, better yet, turn around and head back the other way where he belonged.

She started to take the helmet off. “I can walk from here.”

“Like hell you will.” He rolled on the throttle and enjoyed the feel of her hands grabbing him around his waist again as he ascended the winding driveway.

He pulled up in front of the mansion, illuminated by a series of spotlights showing off the monstrosity at the top of the hill—although Damián had no idea who could see it with all the trees.

Isolated. She must have incredible views of the ocean on the back side of the house. He wondered why the sunset at Laguna had captured her with such awe.

“Please, Damián! I don’t want you to…”

Damián felt her hands tighten around his waist as they saw lights going on from room to room as someone made his or her way to the front door. He had barely stopped the Harley and put the stick down before she let go and scrambled off the bike. She hurriedly unhooked the helmet and handed it to him.

“Thanks for everything, Damián. This will be the best day of my whole life.” She pecked him on the cheek and made a dash for the front door, as if she hoped to get inside before anyone saw him. Did he embarrass her?

Mierda, he wouldn’t have guessed that she was like that.

What did she mean by “will be” the best day? She had her whole life ahead of her. How could she know that?

Before she reached the door, it opened inward. Rather than the man from the hotel, a tall, older man stepped onto the fan-shaped flagstone entrance. She lowered her head when he put his hand on her shoulder to halt her. Was this her father?

The placement of the man’s hand seemed more familiar than a father would touch his daughter. Her sugar daddy, then? Man, won’t he be pissed to learn she’d let someone else dip his wick in her. His crude thought soured his stomach, but if she could just throw away what they’d experienced, then so could he.

“Go in the house, Savannah. Wait in the office.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man reminded him of the Doms in his ex-girlfriend’s porn videos. Was he her Dom? Did she really get off on that pain shit? Then why was he pimping her out to other men? To Jerk-off? Those other men?

He saw her body tense as she cast a glance at Damián. Tears shone in her eyes. Did he see a bit of fear, as well? His gut clenched. Goddamn it, why did she put up with that crap? Clearly, she’d found sexual satisfaction with him at the beach, and he’d done nothing to hurt her. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. Take her away from here. Cherish and protect her.

She turned her body toward Damián, lifting her head just enough to make eye contact, and mouthed another thank you, then veered away to enter the house. Damián watched until he could no longer see her, then turned his attention back to the old man. If the * could breathe fire, he’d singe the tires off the Harley. His face was splotchy red, hands clenched at his sides.

“If I ever catch you near Savannah again, Orlando, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.”

How’d he know his name?

Well, f*ck you, old man. “If she wants to see me, that’s her decision.”

“Savannah makes no decisions. And I’ve done some investigating. If you don’t want to be charged with assault and battery for that incident at my hotel yesterday, you’ll heed my words.”

What the f*ck? He owned the hotel where Damián had worked? Did Savannah work for him, too? He guessed so. Why? Hell, he realized he didn’t understand anything about her. She was the most screwed up chica he’d ever met. If she was willing to sell her body so she could live like this, he’d never have anything to offer her.