Page 28 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)

My tears start to dry up as I admire him.

I knew that Dallas Carter was a very large and very muscular man, but looking at those muscles in person, this close takes muscular to a new level.

I should put him shirtless on a stage and charge people to ogle him because he truly looks like some kind of superhero or something.

Dallas drags me around the room with him as he searches every inch and when he finds no sign of anyone in my room, he releases my hand and storms over to my pillow.

He grabs the rose and crushes it in his palm, pink petals fluttering around his feet.

When he’s satisfied with his destruction, he reaches for the envelope and opens it.

I watch him read and with each letter, each word, each line, he grows more furious.

“What does it say?” I squeak.

He looks up at me with dark eyes and reaches the note out to me for me to read. With a shaking hand, I grab it and start reading:

Ivory,

It’s almost too easy to be close to you, even when you think you’re alone. Did you enjoy your shower? I almost stayed to watch, but I’ll save that for another time. The way you let your guard down is beautiful, and it’s in those moments that I feel closest to you.

The rose is a reminder—you can’t escape me. Even with Dallas in the next room, it wasn’t hard to slip inside. He thinks he can protect you, but he has no idea how easily I can get to you.

Until our next encounter.

Yours, in every shadow.

I drop the note and place a hand flat against my chest, trying to gain control over my breathing.

Dallas watches my every movement and it’s under his stare that I realize for the first time that I stand before him in nothing but a towel that barely covers my ass.

My cheeks turn bright pink at the realization, but Dallas doesn’t seem entirely focused on my appearance. He seems more consumed in rage.

“I need to clear the rest of the suite,” he growls.

I panic, “Do you think he’s in here still?” My voice comes out so faint, that it almost sounds like a whisper.

His eyes suddenly leech of color, becoming so dark I almost shrink into myself. “If he is, he isn’t leaving alive.”

My eyes widen as I watch him step past me, intent on searching the suite. I grab his hand so he can’t pass me and he whips his head at me, “Ivory.” His voice is a warning.

“Can you check my bathroom?” I worry. What if he never left the bathroom? Oh my God. What if he really did see me naked?

Dallas nods, changing his direction as he barges inside the bathroom.

I take the opportunity to grab a pair of pink shorts and a gray tank top to change into so that I’m not walking around in a damn towel.

When Dallas exits, shaking his head, I know my stalker isn’t in the bathroom.

He could still be somewhere in the suite, but I doubt it.

I’m sure he made his swift exit by now, especially because Dallas is openly searching for him.

He pushes past me and doesn’t turn to face me when he commands, “Stay in here and lock the door. Do not open it until I tell you to.”

“Dallas,” I rush out.

He stops, hearing something in my voice, but still faces the door.

I say quietly, “Be careful.”

Dallas doesn’t respond as he exits my room and I lock the door behind him obediently. I change while I have the opportunity and wait. In about five minutes, he’s cleared the entire suite because he knocks on the door, “Ivory, open up.”

I undo the lock and swing the door open and when I take in the disheveled look on his face, I frown. His eyes are still dark, closed off. “He’s not here. He must’ve left when you were still in the shower.”

I shiver at the thought of him having been so close to me. Dallas must see the thought on my face as his brows crease, “I’m sorry he managed to get so close to you.”

I give him a soft smile to reassure him, “It’s okay.”

He scoffs, “It is not okay at all, Ivory. It’s my job to protect you and I failed at that.

Again.” He runs stressed hands through his hair and I suddenly see how worn out he is.

His job isn’t easy to begin with and then when you add protecting me to his to-do list, I’m sure the stress multiplies by thousands.

“You didn’t fail, Dallas. He never got close enough to touch me because of you,” I remind him. The thought of my faceless, nameless, stalker getting that close to me makes me want to vomit and even makes me tremble a little, but I try to keep my expression reassuring.

Dallas reaches out and cups my cheek gently.

I lean into his rough palm, savoring this rare moment between us.

I know he did this to me earlier in my mom’s kitchen, but I wasn’t sure then if it was real or for show.

I have my answer now that we’re alone. “He will never get close enough to touch you,” he glowers and I almost pity my stalker because Dallas’ tone promises nothing but death.

“I trust you.”

He pulls me against his chest and holds my head against him with one hand, his other on the small of my back. I wrap my arms around him and take a long inhale of his scent. He smells so fucking good, I hope he never lets me go.

“You should get some rest,” he says into my hair.

I look up at him immediately, disbelief on my face, “Are you fucking crazy? You seriously think I can sleep after that?” Rare moment officially over.

He releases me from his arms and frowns, “You need to rest. We can’t go to your mom’s house tomorrow and have you falling asleep.”

I know he’s right but there is just no chance I’m gonna be able to sleep in this room alone after what happened.

I look over my shoulder at the bed and feel the hair on my arms rise as goosebumps form on my skin.

A chill even runs up my spine as I look at my bed and remind myself that he touched it, that I could’ve been in the bed when he was that close.

“You’re sleeping in my room,” Dallas leaves no room for argument.

My head immediately whirls in his direction, “What?”

Dallas is stone-cold serious as he repeats himself, “I said you’re sleeping in my room.”

My cheeks turn pink, “Like with you in the room too?”

He raises a brow at me like I’m asking a stupid question, “You’re delusional if you believe for even a second that I’m allowing you out of my sight after that.”

“Are you…sleeping in the bed?” I ask. I wouldn’t entirely be opposed if the answer was yes.

Dallas frowns, “No. I’ll take the floor.”

Boo. I want to complain, but I have no place doing so.

I let him lead me into his bedroom and I watch as he pulls the covers down and gestures for me to get in the bed.

When I comply, he places the covers over me and reaches over me to get the spare pillow.

I watch as he drops it down on the tiled floor and lowers himself down.

Is he so for real? I perk up, the covers falling over me slightly. “Dallas, are you fucking kidding me?” I snap, suddenly furious.

He looks up at me from the ground with an annoyed look, “What?”

I scoff, “You are not sleeping on tile. Especially with no blanket.”

He rolls onto his side, giving me his back as he responds, “Yes, I am because unless you haven’t noticed, there’s no second bed in this room.”

“So get your ass in this one,” I say before I can think better of myself. The room goes silent. Fuck.

He probably thinks that was totally weird of me to say.

Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed right now.

I will hang my head in shame for the rest of my life.

I just didn’t want him to sleep on the cold, tile floor.

I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t want him next to me while I slept. I’d feel a lot safer with him closer.

I whisper, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says a moment later.

I try to explain, “I just don’t want you to sleep on the tile.”

“I’ve slept on worse,” he retorts and my mind immediately goes to his days in the military. I want to ask him about those days, but now is not the time or the place.

Silence returns around us and an idea suddenly comes to mind.

If he wants to be stubborn, I’ll be stubborn too.

I push the covers back and grab the pillow beneath my head before I step out of bed and drop the pillow down next to him on the floor, about a foot away.

I sit down, the cold tile immediately biting into my skin, but I force my body down and he immediately snaps, “What are you doing?”

I lower myself completely, “You’re sleeping on the tile, so I am too. It isn’t fair that I get the bed.”

He sits up and leans over me, “Get up and get in the bed, now.”

I smirk, “No.”

He growls, “Ivory.”

I pout, “Aw, no ‘Little Devil?’”

His nostrils flare in anger and I wink at him, rolling onto my side and giving him my back like he gave me before. “Goodnight, Dallas.”

Silence ensues and for a second, I actually think I’ve won. I think I’ve silenced Dallas Carter and made a point. I’m fully convinced I made a point and that I’ve stunned him until an arm wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground in one fell swoop. “Hey!”

Dallas tosses me onto the bed and I try to struggle, but he pins my wrists down and angles his face so that it’s only inches away from mine, “You do not fucking move.”

I struggle beneath him in disobedience and feel a hard length pressing against my stomach.

My eyes widen and I suck in a small breath.

Dallas takes in my face and immediately releases my wrists, taking a few steps away and putting distance between us.

He’s hard. His pinning me down like that made him hard.

My nipples stiffen into peaks most likely noticeable through my thin tank top since I’m not wearing a bra.

I want him over me again, I want his mouth on mine, his skin on mine.

I want it so badly, that I could completely melt right where I am, but after the events of tonight, I know it isn’t in the cards for us at the moment.