Page 26 of Worth Your Wild

If so, how long would it take to realize I’m not worth her time, the way everyone else has done?

NINE

June

Is this really happening?

I’m having a hard time telling the difference between reality and dreams, because I have dreamed of Deke Decker holding my hand since I was a young girl. When we walk out of the back bedroom of the tour bus after five long hours of driving, I don’t expect him to reach down and twine our fingers together. But he does.

Deke Decker holds my hand. Tightly. In a grip that reminds me of his restless, shaking hands in my hair when I gave him my very first blow job. It must have been good, right? Not only are our fingers braided together, but he’s staring down every man who looks in my direction.

“This doesn’t mean I’m your boyfriend,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, even as he’s silently promising death to every man in the vicinity. And rubbing the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb. “You understand?”

A giddy feeling rises up in my chest.

He’s going to cave.

He is actively caving.

Deke Decker wants to be my boyfriend. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Or he’s not willing to accept it.

“Yes,” I say, tilting my head back and giving him a solemn look. “I understand. You’re not my boyfriend.”

He frowns, making a gravelly sound in his throat. “You don’t have to sound so chipper about it.”

“Oh. Well…” Don’t make it so obvious that you see right through him. “I’m just excited about the show.”

Deke hums, clearly distracted as he looks me over. “You sore anywhere, June Bug?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling broadly.

My smile only widens when his stress deepens. “Where?” He reaches under the back of my skirt, massaging my right butt cheek. “Here?”

“Uh-huh.”

He gives a regretful exhale. “If I didn’t have this goddamn sound check, I’d bring you to the hotel for a soak.” He rubs a knuckle against my sore opening, his mouth coming down to collect a slow kiss of my lips. “God knows you earned it.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I can give myself a bath.”

“Yeah, I know that. But…” His chest expands and contracts, three small grooves forming between his dark eyebrows. “I don’t know, it’s like I’ve got this responsibility to do it for you. I want to do it for you. Soap you up and wash your hair and everything. Snuggle you up in a towel afterward…and just watch you be cute. What the hell is wrong with me?”

My heart is singing. “Sounds like Daddy behavior.” I rush to add, “Totally different from boyfriend behavior.”

“Right…” He draws the word out, sounding suspicious. “I don’t want you going anywhere without me, June Bug. Stay right where I can see you during sound check.”

“Okay,” I laugh. “I was going to do that anyway. I’m your assistant, remember?”

We’ve reached the stairs that lead off the bus. Before I can release his hand and descend them in front of Deke, he pulls me to a stop, a muscle flexing in his cheek. “You didn’t let me do those things to your body because I’m your boss, did you? Or because you felt pressure to⁠—”

I interrupt him by pressing onto my tiptoes and kissing his mouth. “Deke,” I say, blushing. “You’ve seen the notebook. You know I wanted every single thing you did to me.”

His big shoulders relax. “And you haven’t been disappointed yet. With me.”

It sounds like a statement, but his eyes are searching. “No,” I say, sobering. Crossing my wrists behind his neck and bringing my body up against his. “The way you touch me is better than any of my fantasies,” I whisper against his mouth. “The way you fuck me,” I say, rubbing my breasts against his chest. “The way you lick me. The way you pulse in my mouth⁠—”

“Stop,” he groans, pillaging my mouth from above, his tongue delving deep, the way I crave. “Don’t make me hard when I don’t have time to fuck you properly.”