He accepts me and I’m acting crazy because he has some woman’s initials on his hand. But those initials make me feel insecure and that can lead to all sorts of bad things.
“Thank you,” I say at last.
He’s texting again and looks up, his sapphire eyes almost black. He’s angry.
Perfect.
Flustered, I lift out another present. He’s not talking, so I might as well continue. That way I can feel extra guilty.
Unwrapping it, my eyes fill with tears at the sight—it’s an ornate pink box of my French perfume.
“How?” I blink the tears away or at least try.
“I have my ways.” He leans down and brushes my lips. “Happy birthday, baby. Keep going.”
“Axel.” My voice catches as I grab another. This one is long and rectangular. I slowly unwrap it knowing what it is as soon as I see the shiny black box.
Three pairs of satin pointe ballet shoes spill into my lap. Black, pink, and white, they’re like precious gems. My fingers trace the silky satin. I haven’t had new pointe shoes since the tragedy.
“They’re magnificent.” I nod, sniffing. As I keep my head down, a single, fat teardrop saturates the delicate pink tissue paper.
“You know I don’t dance like this anymore. I’ve lost too many years to be a professional.” I toss my hair back and look up at the ceiling, clearing my eyes before I look at him.
“You want to open the rest later?”
Not able to trust myself to speak over the large lump in my throat, I nod. Ten minutes ago, he was laughing and slapping my ass for a run. Now the room feels uncomfortable because he doesn’t have a clue how to deal with me and my feelings.
“You want to tell me what’s going on with you? I know you think I’m a mind reader, but sometimes even I need you to speak.”
“Would it make a difference to you? Because I would, Axel. I would tell you everything.” I can’t believe I said that.
He frowns as if he’s back to trying to figure me out.
“No answer?” I cock my head so I can see his eyes. “Do you really want my truths?” I wait to see if he dares to speak.
“I’m not going to fight with you, darlin’.”
And that’s it.
“I’m not your darlin’, Axel. I’m not your baby or girl or anything. Why? Because you don’t have those. Everyone knows this. I have been warned multiple times to not upset you.”
I lift my fingers to count off all the things I haven’t said. He bought me incredible, thoughtful gifts and I haven’t even unwrapped half of them. I should stop, but fuck it—no one tells him the truth. Not even his beloved brothers. I see how they all tiptoe around him. It’s my birthday and I intend to do it.
“I’m supposed to guard my heart because God forbid I start having feelings for you.” I stick one finger up.
“I need to let you fuck me anytime, anywhere because you’re fucking beautiful and have a giant cock that every woman in the state of California…” I throw my hands up. “No, let’s not limit the mighty Axel to California. I’ll bet your cock is so legendary that women all over the world want to suck it and fuck it. So hey, I’m lucky I get that huge thing.” I use my hands to gesture that his cock is at least twenty inches.
“In my… pussy.” I hate saying that word, but whatever. “In my mouth and if I’m really good, in my ass.”
I take a breath. Holy shit. I’m totally unloading on him.
He rubs his jaw as if he doesn’t quite know how to deal with me, but I’m just getting started. He wanted me to tell him what’s going on? Fine, he’ll get it.
“I have club business. Are you working today?” His voice is dead, flat.
I let out a laugh. The surge of adrenaline requires it. “Yep. I definitely need to work, Axel. Because God only knows when you’re gonna tire of fucking me and toss me out.” I take a step closer and look him in the eyes as I stand on my toes.
“Careful, baby.” His voice is all gravel and sin.
“Why? Can’t defend yourself?” The room almost crackles with our energy and whatever else we have.
“You know what I think, princess?” he says, an edge to his voice. My feet are aching, but I’d rather fracture my foot than stand down at this point.
“I think you’re a spoiled brat. And now you’re acting like a fucking child rather than a woman.”
“Seriously? What are you, a goddamn shrink? If you’re so perfect, why are you living in a clubhouse at thirty-three with a bunch of criminals if —” I scream as he picks me up and puts me across his knee. And I lose it. I struggle, curse, even try to bite him. It’s stupid. He’s a hundred times more powerful, so he lets me exhaust myself until I finally use my words.