Page 32 of Conflagration
“Today was the best,” I tell her honestly. “You did good, baby.”
“We both did. It’s so much easier to pretend when you’re not actually pretending,” she quips.
“About that,” I begin, and she cocks an eyebrow up at me. “I’m ready to finish what we started this morning.”
She quickly stands up and puts some distance between us. “Umm, maybe we should slow down just a little, get to know each other. You don’t know anything about me.”
“That’s not entirely true. Yeah, I might not know your favorite color. Your favorite food. Your favorite sexual position,” I tease, and she huffs. “I don’t know what nightmares you had a kid or who your first kiss was—and don’t fucking tell me because I’ll track him down and kick his ass.”
She rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips. “Do you have a point here?”
“My point, baby, is that’s all the little stuff. The bullshit that doesn’t matter. I’ll learn those things over time. What does matter is that I know you’re kind. You’re passionate and caring, and you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out. You didn’t hesitate to help a stranger, and most importantly, you make me feel, Ariana.” I pause as she swallows hard, her eyes locked in on mine. “I’ve been numb for twelve damn years, if not longer. But in one week’s time, you’ve thawed out the block of ice that’s been frozen around my heart. So, no, I don’t need to know the little, menial things. Because what I do know? It’s all I need.”
Her hand comes up to her heart. I’m not sure if it’s a natural reaction or if she’s trying to process what I’m saying. I don’t mean to be so open, but I find that I can’t keep my feelings inside whenever she’s around. Especially with this. Yeah, we may not win any Newlywed dating game shows just yet, but I know her enough. I just have to get her to see that.
She takes a step closer, yet she remains out of reach. “I guess that makes perfect sense. And you’re right. I know you, too, Branson. You try to be closed off, but for some reason, you’ve let me in. You act as if nothing bothers you, but one genuine smile from your mom and warmth radiates through you, even if it means shacking up with a stranger.”
“I’m not exactly suffering here, baby,” I say as memories of her in my bed this morning flash in my mind.
“And you’re possessive, so much so that you can’t stand for your fake—”
I growl, and she grimaces.
“Yourtemporaryfiancée to be wearing another man’s ring. You’re determined. Sexy. And you take what you want. Although I left Atlanta because I didn’t want to be someone’s yes girl, I find myself wanting to give in to your every demand. And to be honest, Branson, it scares the hell out of me.”
“I’m not him, Ariana. The only time I want you obeying me is in the bedroom. Anywhere else, you use that incredible mind of yours to make your own decisions.”
She twists her hands together, as if she’s nervous. “I know. I couldn’t have found a more different man, and I’m grateful for it. This is just all so new, so intense, and I don’t know. Maybe, before we jump into bed together, we need to really think about what we want when it’s not in the heat of the moment.”
I get what she’s saying. I really do. But I have a feeling that it’s always going to be heated when it comes to the two of us, so waiting will only delay the inevitable and give me the worst case of blue balls. No. Waiting is not an option, so I change the direction of this conversation.
“Ariana, do you know what I do for a living?”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Well, I know you work for your dad’s company. You’re on track to be CEO one day, but as for the overall day-to-day stuff? No, I have no idea. Why?”
“Mergers. Acquisitions. Take-overs. When there’s something I want, I won’t—hell, I don’t—stop until it’s mine. That’s why I’m the best in the business. I never fail. I always get what I want.”
She places a hand on her hip and gives me a challenging look. “And if it’s not yours for the taking?”
God, I love when she tests me. She’s such a fucking paradox. I love her sweet and compliant. I love when she’s bossy and insolent. It’s so contradictory and more than anything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. I can’t get enough.
“I make an offer you can’t refuse.”
She moves forward, places her hands on either side of me, and leans in close. “Then I guess we better start negotiating.”
My dick turns rock solid at her sexy tone, but she pushes off the chair in a flash, giving me one last seductive smile before heading into the kitchen, leaving me alone with nothing but my fucked-up leg and hard-as-stone cock.
I STEW for a bit, but she doesn’t return. Fuck negotiations. This is going to be a fucking take-over.
Cautiously, I stand up from the recliner, trying to move as quietly as possible. I test putting my bad leg down and find that there’s no pain as long as I keep most of my weight on the other one. I’m able to shuffle the ten feet to the kitchen.
When I get there, I see her bent over at the refrigerator. I swiftly cross the room, grimacing at the slight pain from the force of my weight, but I’m behind her in no time. She jumps as my hands grasp her waist, and she tries to turn around, but I won’t allow it. My arm slips around her waist and I pull her back against me until her ass is flush with my erection. Then I reach out and close the refrigerator door.
“What…what are you doing? You shouldn’t be out of the chair, Branson,” she says in a soft protest.
“Is that what you want, Ariana?” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear before moving down to kiss along the side of her jaw.
She swallows hard then nods her head. “Yes. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
