Damaged and the Bulldog (Damaged #6)

My mind demanded restraint. Winnie was fragile and needed a man willing to wait for her. However, my body demanded more. Winnie was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her hair looked so soft and I could smell the sweet aroma of her shampoo. Despite every attempt to keep my need in check, I imagined her legs wrapped around me. Her lips against mine. Her moans echoing in my ear.

Unable to stop myself, I took her hand and placed it against my lips. Winnie exhaled hard, startled by the suddenness of my touch. I softly kissed the top of it. I wanted to keep her hand in mine, but her trembling forced me to let her go.

Winnie shrunk away from me. Though I hadn’t hurt her, she behaved as if under threat. Leaning against the door, she stared outside until Harlow shoved herself between the seats.

“I’ve never had Raisinettes. Will you get me some?” she asked, either oblivious to Winnie’s fear or pretending to be.

“Sure. Get whatever you want.”

“Ooh, Mister Moneybags.”

Harlow disappeared into the backseat and returned to her phone. I wanted to say something to Winnie to fix my moment of weakness. Instead, I focused on the road and tried to understand how such a small gesture could upset her so much.

Winnie glanced at me then back out the window. Her legs were pressed tightly together as if fearful I might jump her at any moment.

By the time we arrived, I was sulking. My pledge of patience hadn’t lasted and I’d spooked the only girl who made me feel like the kind of man I wanted to be.

Winnie didn’t wait until I opened the door for her, but got out and took Harlow’s hand. I suspected the date was officially over and we were just going through motions now.

The parking lot was crowded with people coming and going from the theater. I remained close to the girls who were still holding hands. To my surprise, Winnie took my hand as we neared the entrance.

Frowning down at Winnie, I didn’t understand her mood swings. I was the bad guy minutes earlier, yet now I was in her good favor again.

“Can I have Raisinettes too or is that too expensive?” she asked as we waited in line with the tickets I bought ahead of time.

I stared down at Winnie while Harlow gave a passing guy a dirty look.

“You can have anything you want,” I said, feeling deflated because I had no idea what she wanted.

Winnie only nodded and remained silent until I joined them with the snacks and drinks.

Harlow took her food and smiled. “Some douche tried to take your seat. A ball sac threat later and he changed his mind.”

“She’s very good with the ball threats,” Winnie said as I settled down next to her.

Confused, I nodded and stared at the screen. Winnie talked with Harlow until the previews began. I heard them mumbling about raisins and chocolates being against God. Normally, I’d find this funny, but my feelings were hurt. I just wasn’t sure if Winnie or I was at fault.

As the movie began, Winnie leaned closer and stared at me. “You make me feel things I’m not comfortable feeling.”

“I need to be close and I forget sometimes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she whispered. “I like when you touch me. I’m just scared to like it so much.”

My pout slid into a smile. “You’re mine. I don’t know how I know, but I do. I think about you all the time and it’s killing me to wait. I will though because I only want you.”

Winnie shared my smile and cuddled closer to me, going as far as to lean her head against my shoulder. The movie was a wild comedy, stupid, yet funny. My mind barely registered the story on the big screen. Instead, I nuzzled my lips against her soft hair. After she was finished eating popcorn, I took her hand in mine.

For those two hours, Winnie was a normal girl on a date with a normal guy who didn’t sleep in his car outside her house most nights.





Chapter Nine ~ Winnie


Sunday was a busy day in my family. We got up early and enjoyed a morning buffet with the church volunteers. Our first service started at ten, the second at one. We shared lunch with a few of our parishioners. The day didn’t settle down until after dinner. This schedule left little time to see Dylan.

Fortunately, Dylan missed me as much as I did him and arrived as the sun was setting.

“I know you can’t go out, so I figured I’d drop by,” Dylan said, running a hand over his head. “I feel like a high school kid.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

“Why?” he said, taking my hand. “I’m the one with a crush on a pretty girl.”

Smiling, I glanced inside where Jace was playing videogames with Dad. I returned my gaze to Dylan and noticed he’d nicked himself shaving.

“Do you want to sit on the back porch? It’s private and we can talk.”

Dylan nodded and tentatively reached for my hand. Bracing for myself for the emotions that rushed over me whenever Dylan touched me, I took his hand in mine.

“I’m getting better.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

Shivering at his touch, I led him past Dad and Jace and through the kitchen where Harlow tapped away on the laptop. The enclosed back porch overlooked our serene backyard. We settled down on the bench and I cuddled against him.