“I’m rarely here,” I tell her. “At least, usually. I’m normally at the studio, touring, or doing something in the city.”
“Like what?” she asks, shooting a look at me.
Is that jealousy I hear in her whip-sharp tone?
I know it would scare any other man away, a woman showing signs of jealousy so early. But it only makes me want her more, letting me believe – or hope – that she feels the same as I do, with the same bone-deep intensity.
“Charity stuff. Recording sessions. That sort of thing. I’m not much of a dater if that’s what you’re so slyly asking.”
I love how her cheeks give her away, blooming at the slightest provocation. It makes me think of her creamy full flesh. If her thighs will have red handprints when I grip firmly onto them. If a light spank on her round ass will make her crimson for me.
I lead her onto the balcony, gesturing at the table.
A fire flickers in a fire pit not far from the table, bathing the table in light and heat, and the silverware sparkles in the orange flames.
“This is beautiful,” she whispers, walking to the edge of the balcony and looking down on the city. The sun is setting, the shadows getting longer, the sky bruised. “What an incredible view.”
I smirk as I walk up behind her, slip my hands around her hips, and pull her in close. I lean down so I can drive my manhood against those round ass cheeks. I can’t help myself, the temptation overwhelming, my hunger igniting as I begin to rock my hips.
She moans and pushes back against me, applying pressure to my solid thick cock. But then she turns, with that same look in her eyes.
“You make me crazy,” she murmurs. “But…”
But what? my seed roars, from a primal and possessive place. Bend her over, pull down her panties, drive your cock deep into her soaked slit and fuck her until her young body is swelling with your child.
“But we’re both hungry,” I say, turning to the table.
Looking at her with her lips all red from kissing, with her wide eyes and her curvy hips and her legs making me want to grab hold, to slide higher, to push my hand against her heat and her clit… it’s almost too much to handle.
I pull out a chair, nodding.
“Thank you,” she says, as I push the chair in.
I walk around to my side and sit down, and then lean across the table and take her hand in mine. Her hand is so small, reminding me that she needs a protector, a man who will never let anything bad happen to her, a man who will die before he lets anyone hurt her.
Me, only me.
She belongs to me.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, as her thumb glides over my knuckles.
I almost tell her the truth, but it’ll be too much too soon, especially because I can tell how overwhelmed my excitable woman already is.
And if I tell her, she might run.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, dodging the question. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Billie
Aaron takes some menus from under the table and hands me one. Our fingers touch and even more electricity sparks through me, lighting me up. It’s been like that ever since I stepped foot in his apartment.
Every touch makes my skin sizzle, my sex ache, makes my whole body tremble.
I thought he was going to freak out when I told him I had a crush on him. I didn’t plan on it.
But instead, his face grew hard, his eyes staring at me like he was trying to mentally pin me in place. It was like it made him want me more.
Neither of us has mentioned my dad. It’s like we’ve silently agreed to pretend he doesn’t exist for the time being. Guilt stabs into me, a corkscrew twisting through my belly, but when Aaron aims his smirk at me, I find myself able to let it go, drifting away in the fire-heated air.
Once we select our food and drinks, Aaron shoots off a text. The waiters will bring it directly to his apartment from the restaurant down the street.
He leans back, watching me with the attentiveness I’ve dreamed of for years.
“Tell me about yourself, Billie,” he says.
I smile. “That’s a broad question. What do you want to know?”
“Anything, everything,” he snarls.
My mouth drops open.
Why the sudden passion?
It bubbles to the surface from time to time, in stolen moments, but he makes an effort to compose himself. An uncertainty invades me… what if this is revenge against dad somehow? What if he’s going to string me along and break my heart to hurt dad?
My stomach tightens. My instincts riot against the notion.
I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. Aaron isn’t like that.
“What do you want to do with your life?” Aaron asks.