I plan to be the one who knows exactly how to love her too. Two months ago, I knew she was it for me. Nothing has changed since then. If anything, the need to make her mine has only become more intense. I know what life is like without her. It's fucking miserable. Lonely. Cold. I spent the whole goddamn time worried endlessly. I'm not doing that shit again.
The fact that she's hiding something worries me though. If it's another man, I'll bury him where no one will ever find him. I won't share her. Not even a tiny piece of her. She's mine…and I mean that in the most fucked up, primal way one can mean it. I'm a possessive, jealous bastard. I don't deny it. But only a fool visits heaven and doesn't claim it as his own. I plan to own her, possess her. No one will touch her but me. No one will fuck her but me. She'll never think about any man but me. Every piece of her will be mine. And every piece of me will be hers. It already is. No one else will ever exist to me but her.
I slam my door and head toward her apartment. Flowerpots line her small entryway. Most of them are empty given the time of year, but it's obvious she's getting ready to plant. I make a mental note that she likes to grow things to make sure my staff knows they should defer to her on any and all decisions once she moves in with me. She'll have free rein to make any changes she wants.
"Cortez?" she says, pulling the door open and blinking at me.
"You didn't check the peephole, pretty baby."
She blinks at me.
"You need to check it before you answer the door, Piper," I murmur gently. "You don't have security here. Anyone could walk up to your door and knock."
"No one ever knocks on my door," she says, frowning at me.
"Just check the peephole next time," I order, my voice firm.
"Fine." She shakes her head, looking at me like I'm nuts. "It's one in the afternoon, Cortez. Our date isn't until seven."
"Gwen said you're sick."
"Oh."
I look her over carefully. She isn't nearly as pale as she was yesterday, but she looks exhausted. She has her hair pulled up in a messy bun, her face clean of makeup. She's wearing an oversized sweater and leggings. Even exhausted, she's beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
"You came to see me because Gwen said I'm sick?" she asks, her voice soft.
"Didn't want you here alone," I say and then hold up the shopping bags. "I brought supplies."
"You didn't have to do that, Cortez."
"I know. I'm here because I want to be here, Piper. I want to be the one who takes care of you." Fuck, she has no idea how badly I want it. Never in a million years did I think I'd look forward to something like making a woman soup when she felt bad or holding her while she dozed on the couch, but they both sound fucking perfect to me when it comes to this particular woman.
She fidgets from foot to foot, her arms wrapped around herself.
"How are you feeling, pretty baby?" I ask, my voice soft.
"I'm okay. I just didn't sleep much last night." Her gaze drops to the basket looped over my other arm. "Um…"
"If you'll let me in, I'll give it to you," I tease, seeing the rampant curiosity in her gaze.
She jerks her gaze back up to mine, her cheeks turning pink. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip like she's debating whether or not she wants to let me in.
"I guess you can come in," she finally sighs, making me smile.
I brush past her into the apartment, getting all up in her personal space in the process. Her soft scent wreaks havoc on my senses, turning my cock to stone. Goddamn. She smells edible. I barely manage to fight back a growl as her tits graze my chest, her belly cushioning my hard cock.
She gasps when she feels it, plastering herself against the door.
"I missed you," I breathe against the shell of her ear, unable to resist. Christ, she has no idea how much I've missed her. I knew her for less than twenty-four hours, yet she left a crater the size of the Grand Canyon in my life when she left. I can't even fucking describe the pain she left behind. It was a constant gnawing ache, like I couldn't settle or rest.
I don't feel that way now. For the first time in two months, I feel…peaceful. Whole.
"Cortez," she whispers, her voice shaking. "Back up."
"In a minute," I promise. "Did you miss me, Piper?"
"Cortez."
"Please," I whisper, nipping at her ear. "Just give me that much, pretty baby."
She hesitates for five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. "Yes," she finally sighs.
I press a grateful kiss to her temple and step back, giving her a little space. She squeezes her eyes closed, seemingly trying to marshal her thoughts. I give her a second, scanning her apartment. It's small but cozy. Women are fascinating to me. They can take a shoebox and turn it into a home. Meanwhile, you give a man a mansion, and he can't even turn that into something inviting. I know because it's taken an entire goddamn army to renovate mine into something livable…and it still pales in comparison to this tiny apartment.
Piper's place is full of bold colors and bright fabrics. It's warm and welcoming, full of life. Colorful throw pillows line her oversized couch and pictures of her family sit on shelves scattered around the room. Mine lacks warmth and life. One day, it'll be a home. Right now, it's just a shell. I've been dragging my feet on decorating since I officially moved in a month ago, waiting for Piper. I knew I'd find her again somewhere, some day.
"Nice place," I say, meaning it.
"Um, thanks." She pushes the door closed and then turns to face me.
"You kept the flowers." I spot them on the coffee table, relieved she didn't immediately toss them in the garbage. I half expected that she would.
"They're beautiful," she says softly. "Thank you, Cortez."
"You don't owe me any thanks." I turn to her, my eyes locking with hers. "I'd have sent you flowers every fucking day if I'd known where to find you."
She swallows hard, her gaze sliding from mine. "Do you want me to take that or…?" She nods at the basket in my hands again, ignoring my statement.
I bite back a curse and hold the basket out to her. "You can take it, Piper. It's for you."
"You don't have to bring me presents," she whispers. "Buying me things isn't going to get me to change my mind."
"That's not what this is."
"No?" She looks up at me, confusion swirling through her seafoam green eyes. "Then what is this?"
"This is me spoiling you because you deserve to be spoiled," I say simply. "I'm not trying to buy your forgiveness or convince you to sleep with me or whatever else you're thinking. I just want to spoil you like I would have been doing for the last two months if things had gone differently."
She chews on her bottom lip again. "Where did you go that morning, Cortez?"
"To get you breakfast." I grimace, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Do you want to talk here, or would you rather eat first?"
"Um…"
"I'll tell you anything you want to know," I say. "But I want to take care of you too. If you're hungry, we can move to the kitchen, and we'll talk while I make you something to eat."
"You want to cook for me?" she asks, her expression softening.
I stare at her for a moment and then shake my head. She really doesn't get it, not yet. But she will. Sooner or later, she'll realize that this isn't about fucking for me. I'm not here because I want in her pants. I'm here because I can't stay away. I want everything with this infuriating woman. I want to be the one who cooks for her and spoils her and loves her and cares for her. She's going to be the center of my world.
"Yeah," I say instead of telling her all of that. She's not ready to hear it yet. "I want to cook for you."
"Okay," she whispers.