My Protector by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Sixteen

Dillon

Becky is up, and so am I. And in more ways than one.

If I stay another second in our room I know I won’t be able to control myself, but something tells me tonight is the night.

One more shift. One more day, and I’ll claim her. The day off we’ll have already taking shape in my mind but I have a hunch I know how we’ll probably spend most of it.

Everything else can wait.

The club, getting my business back? That’s a dish best served cold and one day won’t make any difference.

I’ll probably need that extra day to let all the pieces fall how they will to be honest.

I order us breakfast, which is lunch everywhere else. Becky gets it. Working irregular hours makes life different, but I’m glad when she doesn’t buck.

She needs to eat, then we can get her out of her apartment for good.

Here is where home is now. With me.

Like I told her, I have more than a house and truck to my name.

I have more than a few bills tucked away in drawers too. More than enough for both of us, but I’ll have tenfold once I clear my name.

And this club. This Sawyer fella. He’s the way I think I might just be able to spring my trap if my hunch is right.

For now, though, it’s the sounds of Becky in our house. Finding her way to a shower as I call through an order for food and swiftly set both her and my clothes on a wash cycle.

I’d prefer her barefoot and naked all day every day, but for now, I understand we both still need to keep up appearances, so washing and drying our work clothes is no big deal.

I hold back just one item before putting it in the machine.

Her panties.

I bring them to my face and groan, curling my fingers through the lace like I will in her sweet pussy every day from now on.

Breathing her in like she’s here with me. Longing for her sweetness, I can hear water running over in another part of the house.

I half-chuckle to myself, remarking in a low tone out loud just how much that girl is gonna come once I claim her good and proper.

“Once all this other stuff is behind us… My god girl, you’ll know a thing or two about just how Dillon Maxwell treats his woman.”

Wash and dry will take about two hours, one hour is enough time for us both to eat, and another hour to keep her home with no clothes to wear.

The sight of her in my clothes is almost as good as her in her birthday suit. Something about the way my things just hug her curves.

Like an extension of myself.

I think of her again, my seed covering her breasts before I surrender her panties to the machine.

Becky might just need a whole new wardrobe of lingerie. Plenty for me to explore once I clear my name and have her home full-time.

Our food arrives in no time, one thing I love about the area. Good service and good food, fast.

I’m unpacking our breakfast when the scent of her freshly showered body fills my nostrils, making me wonder if I don’t need something else to eat first.

Namely, her.

Looking up I can see she’s upset. That fake smile works at the club, but I can tell she’s been crying.

I forget about the food, for now, moving swiftly over to her and taking her by the shoulders.

“What is it?” I demand. “What’s wrong?” I ask again.

She sniffs back some tears, telling me nothing’s wrong, so I lift her up and sit her on the counter.

“Talk,” I order her again, pulling up a chair and straddling it so I’m at her eye level. I cup her face in my hand, stroking her lower lip with my thumb so she knows I’m not mad.

I just hate to see her upset.

Her lower lip trembles a little, and instead of telling me, she hands me her phone with an open text message.

I hear the plastic creak in my hand as I start to read, and it takes a moment to realize it’s from her landlord.

He’s changing the locks, giving her until the end of today to pay up if she wants her stuff back.

“He said I had more time,” she sniffs again and I only scan the end of the message, worried I’ll crush her phone if I let it get to me like it has her.

“We’re gonna eat,” I inform her. “After, we’ll go pay a visit to your ex-landlord. I can have a few guys on call to move anything you wanna take,” I add.

Recalling this is the same girl eating leftovers from a paper sack. I don’t need to be a genius to figure out her apartment probably isn’t the Rockefeller mansion.

“You won’t hurt him will you?” she asks, her eyes suddenly wide with concern.

I shake my head, groaning to myself.

“Not worth it.” I remind myself, asking her to remind me of that too later on.

Anything to do with Becky being bothered by any man doesn’t exactly bring out my nicest side.

“I just feel stupid,” she says pouting. “Like I’ve got nothing to contribute here. Like you have to do everything.” She sniffs.

“I think you’ll have plenty to contribute,” I grin, pulling her closer to me and slide my hand up between her milky white thighs.

She gives a squeak of delight, but I know I have to focus. Looking at the food as well as letting Becky know her clothes are in the wash, I tighten my jaw reading the look in her eyes.

It tells me soon. Soon she’ll be mine.

“You’re trying to fatten me up,” she playfully scolds me, eyeing the food I serve up for her. Shivering a little, she asks if she can wear my robe again.

I’d prefer it if she was on my lap so I could keep her warm, but that wouldn’t lead to anything productive.

I drape my robe around her shoulders and sit across from her so I can watch her eat while I do.

My phone pings from the countertop, but it can wait.

Her own chimes soon after, and checking her messages she lets out a groan of disappointment.

“Asshole,” she mumbles, causing my brow to lift as I catch another example of her feisty side.

“Landlord?” I ask, but no.

“Sawyer,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He wants me in earlier… and has made a point of saying you won’t be working the front tonight.”

I don’t like my meals being interrupted, but I figure my phone going off a moment before hers is the man himself texting me, and it is.

I punch ‘call’.

I’ve got no time for games, and anything he has to say he can say over the phone or to my face.

I give Becky a little wink, urging her to eat up and not let some prick ruin our meal together.

Sawyer answers swiftly and gets straight to the point.

“I need you here an hour earlier, Dillon. Special night. You’ll also be in the back tonight. A little bird tells me you and the barmaid Becky have been too friendly—”

I don’t like it, but if I’m gonna be working the back rooms instead of the front, I should have a better chance to hatch a plan.

Expose this Charlie Sawyer for the crook he is, and net as many other rotten apples as I can along the way.

That should win a brownie point or two with the judge.

Or will it?

Only one way to find out, I reason. Remembering my old employee Chad’s advice.

I go along with his instructions, making Becky crease a frown before I hang up.

“I’ll be right there,” I remind her. “Taking you there and bringing you back home,” I add.

And every other day from now on.

She smiles. A real smile this time, telling me she’s so glad she met me. Gladder still I’ve rescued her.

“But it sounds like you have a plan.” She pauses. “And not just getting me between your sheets.”

The concept always makes me smile, and I remind her that even though I’m winging it where Sawyer and his Gentleman’s club are concerned, there’s no doubt in my mind when it comes to her.

The thought pleases her visibly, and she flushes red. Insisting she can at least do the dishes and tidy up for us, I let her do her thing and go to check on her clothes.

A few more moments alone with her underwear is as close as I’m getting this afternoon, it seems. More than enough to keep me going through the day though.

A sleepless night watching over her leaving me feeling more than invigorated to deal with the day ahead.