Dream Chaser (Dream Team #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,109

freak and holding the urges at bay,” I suggested.

“We are absolutely going to do that.”

I smiled at him again.

He tugged on me again and brushed his lips against mine.

When he gave me slack, allowing me to pull away, he said, “Clean you up and see to dinner. Dough’s probably pushed open the door of the machine by now.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t care if the dough was ruined and we had to order pizza (though I figured Boone’s homemade stuff was the bomb).

I just wanted him to have sustenance so he had the energy to rock my world.

Again.

“All right,” I agreed, though that was unnecessary.

“Climb off, lie on your side, baby. Leg hitched,” he commanded.

I obeyed.

Boone cleaned me.

Boone made pizza while I watched from this same position in the bed.

Boone made me get on my knees and take a face fucking while it was baking.

But I didn’t eat the pizza naked in his bed.

I still had my bra and shoes on.

And Boone fed me.

Then he tied me up.

And yeah, I already knew it was going to be.

But it was a dream.

* * *

A phone ringing woke us both up.

Boone shifted, muttered, “Mine,” meaning it was his phone, and I settled back in, half on him, half plastered down his side.

Then Boone took hold of the tail of the scarf and lazily stroked it, at the same time stroking down my back, as he greeted casually, “Hey, Dad.”

I shot up to sitting and nearly choked myself.

Boone gave me a part-surprised, mostly-worried look as he let go of the scarf at my back.

“Hang on,” he said to his father. “You okay?” he asked me.

I was not.

Boone was stroking my leash while answering a call from his beloved dad.

“Yes,” I lied.

He put pressure on my back to make me lie on him again and then returned to his dad. “What’s up?” Then, “That was Ryn.”

Oh boy.

“Kathryn. Kathryn Jansen. The woman in my life. It’s serious.”

Few words.

No beating around the bush.

Straight out.

The woman in my life.

It’s serious.

Oh boy!

“Of course you will,” he stated firmly.

I had a feeling I knew what those words meant, and…

Yikes!

“What? This Monday? Cool,” he went on. “What time are you getting in?”

Hang on a second.

What was happening?

“Great. Yeah. I’ll talk to Hawk. He’ll be cool. You want me to pick you up from the airport or are you renting a car?”

Oh my God, oh my God, ohmigod.

“Okay. Yeah. We’ll go out the first night, I’ll make you guys dinner at my place the second.” Pause and, “Yeah.” Pause and a scary “She’ll be there.” Pause and, “Great. Lookin’ forward to it, Dad. Love to Mom.” He then disconnected, looked to me, and announced unnecessarily, “Dad has had a last-minute meeting scheduled in Denver on Monday. This happens sometimes, though he usually has more notice. They’ve decided to make a weekend of it. So my folks will be here Friday.”

Friday?

Like…

Tomorrow?

“Boone—” I started.

But his phone rang again, he looked at it, grinned and told me, “Hang on,” before he took the call.

Then.

Get this.

He said, “Hey, Mom.”

He was grinning.

I was hyperventilating.

“I told Dad,” he said. Then, “Yeah, because men do not do that because we don’t need to do a deep dive into things like this when you’re gonna meet her this weekend.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

She was asking about me.

But of course she was!

“Kathryn, but everyone calls her Ryn,” he continued on a sigh. Pause and, “She’s gorgeous, she’s funny. You’re gonna like her.”

She was not.

I gave good sub.

Evidence was suggesting, for Boone, I gave good girlfriend.

What I did not do was give good girlfriend as considered such by a boyfriend’s parents.

Not one of my boyfriends’ parents had liked me.

I was too self-sufficient. I wasn’t girlie (as such). I didn’t suffer fools. I didn’t like to get bossed around by dudes (when I wasn’t subbing).

And last but oh so not least, I worked at a strip club.

Many parents frowned on that for their boys.

Like, in my admittedly not so vast experience, all of them.

“Mom, she’s right here and she knows she’s gonna meet you this weekend so she’s seriously nervous. Can we table this, seeing as you’re gonna meet her tomorrow, so I can see to my girl?”

At his sharing I was “seriously nervous,” I slapped his chest.

He grinned at me again.

I glared at him.

“Right. Love you too. Later,” he said into the phone.

He then tossed it to the bed beyond me, surged up and then down so he was on top of me.

“They’re gonna love you,”

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