“Men are proud creatures. We’re taught to go it alone and not to let people down. I’m sure he’s feeling like a failure for not being able to provide for his wife and children.”
That’s what we’re missing–a man’s perspective. Hunter is based out of Vegas and is never involved in the day-to-day operations of the business. “Would you be interested in volunteering at the shelter?”
Why did I ask that? I straighten in my seat. “Forget I asked you that. You have two jobs already, and you don’t need the pressure from your girlfriend to do something you don’t want to do. I don’t want to be an obligation.”
Girlfriend? I just said, girlfriend.I keep digging deeper and deeper into a pit of embarrassment. What is wrong with me? I remove my hand from his and stare out the windows The homes are two and sometimes three stories high with large well-manicured lawns.
He’s looking for filthy sex with a student–not snuggling and watching television reruns after we come home from a day of saving the community. I groan inwardly and roll my eyes. The idiot do-gooder at your service. We drive in silence as I try to think of a way to crawl out of the car while it’s still running and jog back home. But it’s a long way home, and I don’t jog.
After he snaps on the blinker, he turns into the driveway of a large two-story house. The front of the building is covered in floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s beautiful. The garage doors slide up, and he eases into his parking space beside a Harley motorcycle. How did I get here?
He pushes a button to shut off the engine and grabs my chin. “You need to stop doubting your worth. You are a beautiful, smart, and caring woman. You’re sexy as fuck. And I’m lucky to be able to spend time with you. You’re not what you heard from your family. Whether they intended to or not, they’ve dashed your self-esteem. And I’m here….” He pauses and runs his thumb over my jawline. “To show you your worth. It’s my responsibility as your boyfriend to shower you with praise and attention until you believe you deserve it.”
The passion and conviction in his eyes make it hard to meet his gaze. I swallow and lick my lips. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over mine. “All you need to do is feel.”
The pressure of his mouth against mine is soft yet commanding as he gives me no time to retreat. His fingers thread through my hair, sending a shiver along my spine. He pulls back. “I would love to volunteer at the shelter with you. That’s why I asked the questions. To try and figure out how my skillset could be of benefit to the shelter.”
One corner of my mouth rises, and I wink. “I’m not offering out that skillset no matter how much the clients or owner begs.”
“Baby, the only person I want begging is you.”
I gnaw on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. “Please.”
“Hold that thought, my little minx.” He climbs out the driver’s side door and peers back inside. “Wait until I come around and get you.”
“My legs aren’t broken.” I grab the handle.
“I said to wait.” His eyes flash with irritation. “You’ll do what you’re told.” A zip of desire flares through me.
“Yes, sir.” What has gotten into me? I’m an independent woman who is completely capable of getting out of a car on my own, and yet, he tells me what to do, and I do it. And love it. It’s wrong.
He opens the door, extends his hand, and draws me to him. “Now, was that so hard?”
I should berate him for being demanding. Yet all I want to do is wrap myself around him and purr.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“That’s the right answer.” He cups my face. “No one ever takes care of you. I want to do that for you.”
Damn him. Tears sting my eyes. “Okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alexander
She resists being taken care of. But I won’t relent. She’s always taken care of others. Now, I want her to experience the pleasure of someone else putting her needs first. And by needs–this time, I don’t mean sexually.
Yes, I want her. And, yes, I’ll have her. I can’t imagine ever not wanting to devour her and take my fill. But it’s more than that. I want to know her. I want to support her passions and dreams. I want to work toward a future for the two of us.
It might have started as a one-night stand, but that flew out the window with the first kiss. She’s had me turned upside down since then. In two and a half months, my term will expire, and she’ll have graduated from college. What happens after that is no one else’s business. The key is to keep things professional in public while we’re anything but chaste in private.
When we step into the living room, her eyes skip over the furniture to land on the dining room table.
“I bought you something.” Before leaving, I laid out two bags of goodies for her, amongst two dozen pink and red roses.
“What is it?” She inches forward as if she’s leery of what’s inside. “It’s not valentine’s day or my birthday.”