“What am I doing here? Where are my clothes?”
I kept my voice as steady as possible but felt naked and afraid despite wearing a full outfit.
“I was leaving the office last night and saw you pass out as you headed to the bus,” his voice sounded disappointed. “Why did you let your health get that bad?”
Thrown off by what he said, I knit my brows in frustration. “I have a busy life; I can’t take time off for a small cold,” I countered.
“It wasn’t a small cold, I had a physician here for five hours last night. Your temperature was at 105. You could have done serious damage.” He sounded mad now, and I couldn’t figure out why. What did it matter if I was sick? I could have slept it off in my own room. Setting down his mug, he leaned in close and rested the back of his hand on my forehead thoughtfully.
“Wait—you called a doctor?” My heart sped up and I backed away from his touch. “I don’t have insurance right now, I can’t afford it. How much did—”
“I covered your bill, don’t worry about it.” He frowned. His voice was rumbly and frustrated, and it would have been hot if he weren’t so pissed. “I have to go. Thank you, but I need to get to class,” I explained.
“You’re just going to pass out again if you’re not careful.”
It sounded like he cared, but he still seemed annoyed with me. “I’ll be fine, I just want to go home and get some work done.”
“There aren’t any bus lines in this area,” he said simply.
This threw me off, and I wondered what kind of Richie Rich neighborhood I was in. I could call an Uber or a Lyft, but the cost of driving from wherever the hell we were was probably pretty expensive. I couldn’t afford that.
“I’ll drive you home if you take your temperature first, so I know you won’t just get home and pass out,” he offered. My face flushed red at how much he seemed to care. This man hadn’t even said more than a handful of words to me before, and now he was acting like some concerned guardian.
It was overwhelming.
“I’ll just order a driver, I don’t need you to play nurse for me,” I pushed back. I’d never spoken to Dale; I didn’t know what he wanted from me.
“We’re twenty miles from the city. If you live in it that would be incredibly expensive.” He frowned.
Damn. He was right.
I couldn’t afford that—it would be at least a forty-dollar ride. I wasn’t even sure I had forty dollars to spend since rent just hit my account.
“Fine,” I sighed. Slouching down onto the bed, I watched as he reached past the water on the nightstand and pulled out a little digital thermometer. Uncapping it, he turned it on to make sure it worked.
“Open your mouth,” he murmured. My face felt hot like it had when my fever was still high, and I let out a nervous laugh. “I can hold it myself,” I shot back.
“You’ve been gripping that tea with both of your hands like a vice. Here.” He lifted the thermometer up to my lips and I let it in.
There was something so dirty about this.
The metallic taste of the thermometer distracted me from it some, but he was leaning close and held the thermometer to watch the temperature as it climbed. Dale was so close to me that I could smell his cologne—or was it aftershave? It smelled deep and masculine.
I hadn’t dated anyone in a couple of years; this close contact was overwhelming.
Had he slept in the bed with me last night?
I pictured him just feet away from me, having to hear me snore because I was sick, and I wanted to laugh at it. Our eyes met, and something sizzled there.
He was so close to my face, and although he was like a hulking bull of a man, my clit throbbed in interest.
Something changed in his face, and when the thermometer beeped, he pulled it out of my mouth and pressed his lips against mine. I gasped, not sure how to react—but my body gave in and I kissed him back. His lips were thick and soft, tasting like the coffee he’d denied me.
I tilted my head, deepening the kiss, and he pressed me down against the mattress. As he cupped my face with one hand, his other slid down from my hip to my thigh. My mind was abuzz with excitement and confusion, but I lifted my knees and planted my feet flat on the mattress beneath us so that I was straddling his hips.
It got heavy fast, with touches and kisses and licks. I wasn’t sure I could stop it—I didn’t want to stop it.
He stopped it.
I couldn’t keep in my disappointed gasp as he leaned up away from me. His face, which was usually so stoic and unreadable, was slightly flushed red, and his already-messy bedhead was even more messed up. I liked him like this, a version that nobody else got to see.
Leaning over, he picked up the thermometer.
“98.9 degrees. You’re good to go.” He sounded disappointed.
I realized I was disappointed too.
Maybe I shouldn’t have put up such a fuss about getting back home.
4
Dale
I almost lost control.
Pushing her down into the mattress, feeling her hot breath and warm, soft body—the way she opened up like that for me. My cock was dying for me to just take it all the way, to press into her and claim her until she didn’t want anything else but me.
I wasn’t going to get her fired.
There was no way around this without looking like a major shithead. If I got her fired and tried to cover the money she lost from the job, I’d look like I was paying her for sex. If we fucked, and then I hired her for some bullshit job, she’d probably think I was just keeping her around as an accessory.
It wasn’t any shit like that.
I needed her.
I wasn’t sure how far I could take it—how far she’d want me to take it—but I wanted all of her. My cock was aching to get so deep into her that she’d understand whatever the fuck I was feeling. When she pushed back and sassed about getting her own ride home, that made it worse.
Though I managed to drive her home without pulling over and doing something I’d regret, I wasn’t sure how great my willpower would be after much more of this.
It already wasn’t looking great.
I knew where she lived now, and where she went to work. She had Saturdays off at my father’s business, but she still had to go to school and her second job. I wanted to keep an eye on her to make sure she was alright; I needed to make sure she was safe.
If she passed out like that again, I had to be there to protect her;
My mom passed away alone because nobody checked in on her.
If anything happened to Danielle, I’d blame myself.
Her second job was as a waitress in a little dive bar. The uniform they had her in was a skirt that showed off half of her thighs, and a shirt tight enough that even though it was black you could see every curve. She had a little red apron on over this, and it was doing things for me that made me glad I was just staying in my car. Danielle was bopping along to whatever song was playing, and she looked like she was feeling better. That was a relief—I considered turning back and going home, but something caught my eye.
A customer of hers got a little handsy, and it wasn’t fun anymore.
He was some sleazy ham of a man who looked like he was in his late fifties. He kept trying to point at things on the menu to make her come around the table to look at it, but she only fell for that once.