Dirty Vegas Nights (The Trifecta #2) - Logan Chance Page 0,19
pass out from exhaustion. I finish the book, wanting to make sure they’re both fully asleep.
I study Emma with all her guards let down for once. When our lips met on the porch swing I felt some of her defenses melt away, but right before I could delve into her, before I could break them all down they were back up as soon as her palms touched my chest. Now, watching her sleep peacefully I notice things I hadn’t before. The exhaustion around her eyes, the tense set of her shoulders when she’s awake. Whoever this bad man is will never get near the two of them. As long as she doesn’t push me away I’ll be here to protect her. Hell, even if she does push me away I’ll still be in the background, making sure she’s well taken care of.
Her evasion when I asked why she started dancing is starting to make sense. I can’t put everything together just yet, but I vow I’m going to break past her defenses and find out her secrets. I want to know what makes her tick, and right now while she’s pliable with sleep fogging her mind seems like a good time to start.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
It takes a second for her to allow my words to penetrate her tired brain. She blinks her whiskey-colored eyes focusing on me. The bags under her eyes break my heart, I decide not to push her tonight. I’ll get my answers after she gets the rest she needs.
I watch her check on Felicity, she’s on her side sleeping her mouth is open with a tiny bit of drool making its way toward her pillow. Emma smiles, smoothing her daughter’s hair down before arranging the blanket around her. I wonder if she’s avoiding me.
“She’s out.” I whisper, close to her ear. I feel some vindication when it causes goosebumps to erupt over her bare arms. “I’ll lock the door and see myself out. Why don’t you go to bed?”
“No, you don’t have to leave. Do you want something to drink? I mean it’s the least I can do for you running over here to protect us.”
I run my hands through my hair, trying to decide if I should be a gentleman, or stay. The small smile she gives me has me grabbing her hand, leading her out of Felicity’s room toward the kitchen.
Good intentions be damned.
She hands me a beer, taking one for herself. We go to the couch, sit down as both of us ignore each other, staring at our beers, stuck on where to go next. After a while the silence gets to me, so I decide to start up the conversation seeing how much I can get out of her tonight.
“Does she have nightmares often?”
She takes a deep breath, her tits straining against her tight tank top. I push my eyes up to the ceiling not wanting to get caught staring when she’s obviously not wearing a bra. My mouth goes dry at the thought of her unrestrained breasts, and what I can do with them using my mouth and hands. I take a swig of beer for something to do.
The indecision on her face has me thinking she wants to change the subject. As much as it will pain me, I won’t push it if she decides not to trust me enough to tell me her story. Being somewhat of a good guy right now will make up for my dirty thoughts. I watch as her mind goes back and forth on if she wants to explain Felicity’s nightmares. My patience pays off when she leans back on the couch, holding a pillow against her stomach.
“She just started having them.”
“And the bad man?” Just like when Felicity mentioned him, Emma winces. I reach out grabbing her hand, holding it gently.
“The bad man is her father.”
I ignore every instinct screaming inside me, demanding I get answers. I need to be patient, even if it kills me. The thought of Felicity’s dad scaring her enough to where she’s having nightmares pisses me off.
Emma squeezes my hand, making me realize I put my hand into a fist at her confession. “You asked me why I started dancing, and I didn’t answer you. The truth is I started dancing because of my own father.”
If I thought I was pissed before, I’m seething now. A father pushing his daughter into exotic dancing is incomprehensible. I’m not sure which man I want to push my fist through first.
Emma smiles