"I love the way you touch me."

"I haven't touched you yet."

"Oh, yes, you have." Her hand came around the back of his neck, as her hips swayed gently. "Your eyes. The way you look at me."

Oh, Jesus, what she did to him. He went so hard he had to palm himself through his jeans. Her ass brushed over his hand, and he couldn't help but grab a cheek and caress it. She sucked in a breath, looking so fucking sexy.

He couldn't help himself. He crouched, kissing that ass through the boy shorts. He needed them off now. Lowering the waistband of her panties, he took a bite of her luscious rump.

She pushed back. "God, Dylan."

Yanking down the panties, he stood up, arms belting her waist, chin resting on her shoulder, just taking her in. Mouth on her neck, he palmed her breasts. Her ass shoved hard into him, and she moaned, eyes heavy with desire.

And then he couldn't take it anymore. He unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them down. Grasping her hips, he tilted her forward, then slowly sank into her slick heat.

"Fuck." Stroking one finger along her slick length, he watched her expression change when he circled her clit. She shuddered against him. "I want you, sunshine. I want you so much." A hand on the small of her back, he lowered her even more as he buried himself deep inside her.

She gasped, all that hair spilling forward, those luscious breasts rocking with his thrusts. His finger glided over her clit, his cock powered in and out of her, and everything in him quickened. Spots of light flickered in his vision, as heat rushed over him, and his legs went weak.

"I'm gonna come, sunshine," he whispered. "I'm gonna come so hard."

Her mouth popped open, as her body shuddered, eyelids fluttering closed. She slammed back against him, and he held her there, pinned to him, swiveling his hips hard and fast, biting his lip to keep from shouting as he came inside her.

He continued pumping, his hands skimming up her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts. Fuck, this woman was everything to him. Everything.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

"Dammit, Kels. I told you not to take her calls." Dylan paced around the covered pool, the sharp air biting into his skin, making his ears hurt.

"Are you kidding me? She's all alone, Dylan. Everyone's abandoned her-including her own son. She's scared."

Somehow that didn't ring true, but he couldn't hold onto the thought when Kelsi jerked so hard on the guilt strings. "I know that. We've been over this a thousand times. Nothing about this process is going to be easy, but she has to go through it if she's going to get clean."

"It's too late. She's out. She's here."

"I can't fucking believe you took my mom out of rehab."

"I had no choice. Whatever. It's done. But I need you here. She's your problem, not mine."

"Yes, and I got her in a program. That was how I was dealing with my problem."

"Don't put this on me. She was walking out that door no matter what. If I didn't go pick her up, she'd have called Jeff, and you know it."

He cupped the back of his neck and looked up to the cloudy sky. "We'll never know now."

"Are you coming home?"

If he came home, he'd have to drop out of school. If he didn't come home, his mom would go back to Jeff. And he couldn't live with himself if she got caught up with the drug dealer again. He knew where that would end.

"I've been home. She was with Jeff when I was around. I don't know what I can do to help her, but dropping out of school isn't the answer."

The phone whisked out of his hand. He swung around to find Bill putting it to his ear.

"Pardon the interruption. This is William O'Donnell." He held up a finger to Dylan. "I'm going to guess by the circular nature of this conversation that we're not dealing with an emergency, so I'm going to hang up right now, let my boy clear his head a bit. He'll get back to you soon." He tipped his head back, squinting, and then turned the phone off.

Dylan had no words. What had this man just done?

"You play golf?"

He gave Nicole's dad the death glare. He had a crisis to deal with, and the man was talking about golf. As if he had the time or the money to play a rich man's sport.

Bill burst out laughing. "What do I know about your life, son? You could caddy at a country club for all I know." He slapped a hand on Dylan's back. "Come on. We're gonna go hit some balls."

Two hours later, in the warmth of an indoor driving range, Dylan took a swipe at the little white ball, watched it sail across the turf.

Bill followed the trajectory with an awed expression. "Hot damn, boy. You're a natural athlete. If you'd been an O'Donnell, you'd be on the pro tour right now."

"Thanks. Can I get my phone back?" He needed to know what his mom was doing. Could Kelsi keep an eye on her? Stupid question. Her own son couldn't keep an eye on her.

He could not believe his mom had walked out of rehab.

"You work out?"

Again, Dylan just looked at him. This conversation was bullshit.

Panic clutched at his chest. Holy shit, his mom was out of rehab. He had to get the hell out of there and back to Colorado. What was she doing right then?

"Dylan?" He said it sharply, to get his attention. "You work out?"

What the fuck? Why...Dylan blew out a harsh breath. This guy'd had an alcoholic wife. He'd dealt with similar stuff. He should give him a chance. Maybe he could help. "Yes."

"How often?"

"A lot."

"How much is a lot?"

"Every day." Saying it out loud made it seem kind of...obsessive. "I used to just do it five days a week, but..."

"But you got a little anxious when a whole day would go by that you weren't tightening those muscles."

What could he say to that? True.

"I noticed you don't pig out with the rest of the crew. No pretzels, no chips. Even those desserts Nicole's always making. You don't eat 'em."

"I watch what I eat."

"Why?"

"Kind of defeats the purpose of working out if I'm just going to eat crap."

"No sugar?"

What was his point? "Not usually, no."

"What else you trying so hard to control, son?"

He pulled off the glove Bill had bought him. Play time was over. He didn't have these conversations with anyone, but then he thought about Nicole. Another seizure in his chest. He didn't want to lose her, but he had to focus on his mom right then. "I need my phone."

"Heard you got a full-ride to Wilmington."

"No disrespect, Mr. O'Donnell, but can you please get to your point?"

Bill led them away from the green, away from the other golfers. "I'm guessing you didn't have a whole lot of control growing up with your mom?" That was the softest voice the man had ever used.

"No. She's not..."

"She can't be controlled. Addicts can't. I know from my own experience. But it looks to me like you compensated in your own life." He motioned to Dylan's body. "You ever wonder why you work out so much?"

"It keeps me healthy. That's a good thing."

"Sure is. Four, five days a week'll keep you fit, too. You do seven. Why?"

If he was going to have this conversation, he might as well be real. "So no one can take advantage of me."

"You live in a dangerous town?"

"I live in a tourist town. Old Western shoot-outs and everything."

"So who're you protecting yourself from?"

He didn't answer. He'd never tell anyone about the creeps who'd threatened him throughout his childhood.

"The folks your mom brought around?"

He shot a look to Nicole's dad. No one had ever asked him that before. "Yes." Jesus Christ, he sounded like a pussy. Felt as vulnerable as he had when he was eleven. What was he going to do next, cry? It's just...damn, he needed to make sense of everything. It had all gone haywire.

Bill drew in a breath, his muscular chest expanding. "I think you know I was married to a drunk."

Dylan nodded, not liking the way that sounded. Too harsh for an ex-wife.

"I tried to control her environment. Became my full-time job."

"I know I have no control over what my mom does. Believe me, I learned that lesson. I'm trying to..."

"To what, son?"

"To help her."

"Help her what?"

"Keep her out of trouble."

"And have you done that so far?"

"Not as well as I should have."

Bill blew out a breath, kicking at the Astro turf. "So, it's your fault, huh?"

"I didn't say that. Look, she does what she does. I just have to at least pay her bills so she has a roof over her head."

"So, if you pay her bills, you'll keep her out of trouble?"

Dylan looked away, seeing nothing but his mom's expression when she was high over Thanksgiving. "You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

Yeah, he knew he sounded like a kid, but he didn't know what to say. Well, it was more than that. Bill was leading him to think about things he'd never considered, and it made him confused. "I'm her son."

He held up a hand. "I understand. I was Audrey's husband. Nicole was Audrey's daughter. We understand. And trust me, nothing you say or think about your mom or your situation is new. Every single enabler on the planet thinks the same way as you. Know how I figured that out?" He paused. "Al-Anon."

"You went to therapy?"

"Hell, yeah. I had kids. Nothing I did made things better. Nothing. Sound familiar?"

"I don't need therapy." He needed the help of his family. "She does."

"Therapy only works for people who want things to change. Do you want things to change?"

Dylan nodded.

"Does your mom?"

He didn't bother answering.

"Then, you might want to try therapy."

"It doesn't matter what I do, she's still going to...get into trouble."

He shifted, looking alert. "That's exactly right. No matter what you do, she's still going to do whatever the hell she wants. So, you can continue doing exactly what you're doing-and nothing will ever change. This will be your life." He paused, his gaze deep and probing. "Is this the life you want?"