by Erika Wilde
It wasn’t a lie. Even after Theodore had received Maddux’s message and stopped demanding money from the small businesses in the area, it had taken all those owners a long time to recover from the monetary strain Theodore had put upon them for years. And in an effort to save those businesses, Maddux had offered as much financial assistance as he could to keep those stores open and afloat . . . without asking for any compensation in return.
Arabella set her fork down on her empty plate, gazing at him with respect and an awe he didn’t want or deserve. “See . . . more proof that you’re a good guy, Maddux Wilder.”
She stood and picked up both of their plates. “And now, tiramisu for dessert,” she announced. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He watched her head back into the kitchen and could hear her washing their dirty dishes and putting any leftovers away. And even though he knew she was going to return with dessert, he realized that he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, just sit here and enjoy her company while pretending that this was a normal, pleasurable night in with Arabella. It wasn’t his life, and it wasn’t going to last.
Yet despite every denial he wanted to cling to, he couldn’t ignore the truth . . . that he was already getting attached to this sweet, affectionate woman who saw beneath his terse façade and called him on his bullshit. He was starting to care, and that was a very dangerous thing in a situation where letting his emotions get involved would fuck up everything he’d planned for the past fourteen long years.
Refusing to think about how disappointed Arabella was going to be, he stood up and quietly made his way back to his office, making sure she didn’t see him on the way through the living room. He didn’t want to have to explain why he was holing himself up yet again, especially after a nice dinner together. This way was easier. Simpler. She’d walk out to the veranda in a few minutes, realize he was gone, and accept it as his normal MO.
He was becoming a regular Houdini as far as she was concerned.
Chapter 16
Arabella had been eager to sample Sofia’s tiramisu, and had been even more excited to spend extra time with Maddux, instead of alone. But the joke was on her, because as soon as she stepped out on the terrace and found him gone, she knew exactly where he’d disappeared to, and that she wouldn’t see him for the rest of the evening.
Not wanting to eat dessert alone, she exhaled a defeated sigh and took the two plates back to the kitchen. After placing both slices of tiramisu into a sealed container, she put them into the refrigerator. She didn’t so much as glance at the cameras directed her way, closing Maddux off the same way he’d just shut her out. Yes, he could see her and watch her, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him in any way. As stupid as she knew it was—because Maddux had never claimed to be Mr. Warm and Fuzzy—after their nice dinner together, his dismissive attitude hurt.
So instead, she spent the next few hours in his lavish bathroom with the door locked, ensuring her privacy. She filled the tub, adding a few of the vanilla lavender bath oil beads she’d found in the toiletries Maddux’s guys had brought from her place. As the water rose toward the brim and fragrant steam filled the enclosed area, she stripped out of her work clothes, pinned up her hair, then sank into the warm bath.
She stayed in there for nearly two hours thanks to the self-heating tub and finished the book she was reading. Completely relaxed and ready to go to bed, she finally got out of the bath, dried off, and changed into her favorite dark blue silk shift she liked to sleep in. Back in Maddux’s room, she once again ignored the cameras as she unpinned her hair and cleaned up her things. Walking to what she now thought of as her side of the mattress, she switched on the lamp and stared in confusion at the stack of older-looking books on the nightstand that she hadn’t put there.
Her breath caught in her chest when she realized what they were. Not just any ordinary set of books, they were the collection of first edition Jane Austen novels she’d bid on at the Wilder Way charity event on Saturday. The same set that someone else had won at the steep price that had gone well over one hundred grand.
She ran her fingers over the surface of the top book, her heart pounding with pleasure and delight. There was no doubt in her mind that it had been Maddux who’d left the books there for her. Maddux who’d paid an astronomical amount for the rare editions she’d coveted for herself. He must have seen her that night, had watched her place a bid, and when it had reached over six figures, he’d offered the last amount to seal the deal. For her. But why?
She swallowed back the emotional knot gathering in her throat. He didn’t have to buy the first editions, and he certainly didn’t have to offer them to her as a gift under any circumstances. But he had, and she wanted so badly to believe that his actions spoke to something deeper between them, because most people didn’t give someone they disliked such a special, indulgent gift that clearly meant so much to them—as these books meant to her.
It took everything in her to resist the urge to turn around and face the security camera in the room, to thank Maddux and let him see the joy on her face and tell him how much she loved and appreciated the rare books. That the kind, thoughtful gesture he’d made had her overflowing with warmth and gratitude and affection for him.
But talking to an inanimate object was too impersonal, and she wanted, and craved, that intimate, face-to-face interaction with Maddux. Making a split-second decision, she headed toward the other side of his penthouse, certain he was tracking her movement every step of the way via his cameras. When she reached his office, she walked in without knocking on the closed door.
Judging by the casual way he was leaning back in his leather chair and the lack of surprise on his face, he’d been expecting her. He held an almost empty glass of dark liquid she assumed was hard liquor, and his expression was unreadable as she walked toward him, though his eyes did take note of the thigh-length silk shift she was wearing, and her nipples tightened against the cool fabric as a sensual awareness flowed through her veins.
She lifted her chin a few stubborn inches. “I know I’m probably racking up a punishment for barging in here, but I know you saw me coming, and I didn’t want you to tell me to leave you alone without having the chance to walk into your office so I could talk to you, in person, face-to-face.”
“Okay,” he said simply as he swirled the last bit of alcohol in his glass, shocking her with his agreeable demeanor when she’d been anticipating a more contentious response.
She rounded his desk so she was standing next to his chair, so close she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. But she didn’t. “Maddux . . . you can’t just leave a gift like that for me without saying a word.” Her words were soft and threaded with emotion.
His gaze held hers, his still carefully shuttered. “I believe I did.”
“Why would you do it, Maddux?” she asked, needing to hear his answer, his reasons. “Why would you bid on those books, pay a small fortune for them, then give them to me, of all people?”
He tossed back the rest of the amber liquid, set the glass on the desk, then rocked back in his chair, a slight frown forming between his brows. “Honestly?”
“Yes.” She wanted, needed, the truth.
“I bought them out of spite, because I saw that you wanted them and I didn’t want you to have them,” he said, his voice rough as gravel as he admitted his intentions. “Didn’t matter the cost, because it went to charity. It wasn’t about the amount of money . . . that night, it was about taking something you wanted because it gave me a twisted sense of pleasure considering everything going on with your father.”
There was no vindictiveness in his tone, just a regret that spoke volumes. His actions might have originally been based on anger and disdain, but that wasn’t the case now or he wouldn’t have left the books on her nightstand. “So why did you give them to me?”
He paused a moment, as if he was hesitant about revealing his reasons, but finally gave her the insight she longed for. “Becau
se now, I want you to have the books. Despite how much I hate your father . . . I don’t hate you, and those books are meant to be yours because I know you’ll treasure them.”
“I will,” she whispered, giving him a tremulous smile. “Thank you so much.”
A slight, bittersweet smile touched the corner of his lips. “You’re welcome, Bella.”
God . . . her heart couldn’t contain all the varying emotions she was suddenly feeling for this paradoxical man. And how much he’d come to mean to her in such a short time. There was so much goodness beneath all his pain, and Arabella wanted him more than she’d ever needed anything else in her entire life. Except for all his promises to fuck her, to do dirty, wicked things to her that her body longed for, he’d backed off when that was the last thing she wanted, and she decided to call him out on the way he’d been deliberately skirting that physical contact with her.
“Why are you avoiding me?” she asked.
“I’ve been busy,” he replied.
That was a crock of polite, easy bullshit to avoid the real reason he was keeping distance between them. This time, she looked him directly in the eyes and didn’t mince her words. “Let me rephrase that. Why won’t you fuck me, when that was part of our agreement?”
Her bold, direct question definitely got his attention, though she hadn’t anticipated the annoyance that etched his features. “Because you’re not ready for me to fuck you, and you still have a lot to learn,” he said, brusque and blunt.
She stepped in front of him, between his spread legs, and saw his pupils darken. “Then teach me everything.”
He groaned deep in his throat. “Bella, as much as I want you, I have no right to take your virginity. It doesn’t fucking belong to me.”
He sounded angry, and she almost laughed at the thought that somewhere along the way her assertive beast had grown a conscience, when she was desperate for the dominant man who’d held her down in the bathtub the other day and demanded her body submit to his pleasure. Just the thought of that provocative memory made her sex pulse with need.
“I’m going to be very clear about this,” she said, taking a direct and candid approach as she reached out and caressed the tips of her fingers along the soft, short growth of beard on his jaw, aching to feel that facial hair abrading the tender, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. “I’m not a prim, timid, innocent maiden from the eighteenth century. I’m a twenty-five-year-old grown woman who knows her own mind. You’re not taking my virginity like some antiquated caveman. I’m giving it to you, openly and deliberately, without any doubts or reservations, because it’s what I want with you.”
Beneath her fingertips, she felt his jaw clench. “I don’t fucking deserve it,” he said on a low, agitated growl. “You should save it for a man who does.”
“Shouldn’t I get to decide who deserves to be the first man to fuck me?” She swallowed hard, realizing she didn’t want Maddux to just be her first. She wanted him to be the one and only man to have that privilege, which was a ridiculous thought considering her time with him was only temporary, and there was no way he’d ever want anything more than just a hookup with his enemy’s daughter.
“I want that man to be you, Maddux,” she reiterated, and deciding to up the stakes, she pushed the thin straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, then lowered her arms and let the silky fabric fall to the floor at her feet, leaving her standing in front of him in just a pair of lacy panties. “It’s my body, my choice, my pleasure . . . and I choose you.”
His breathing deepened as his gaze raked over her bare breasts, his growing erection straining against the front of his slacks. His hands curled into fists on the arms of the chair, as if he was struggling not to touch everything she was offering. “The way I want to fuck you isn’t sweet or gentle or romantic.”
His words rang out like a warning, but it was a foreshadowing that was unnecessary because Arabella was already well aware that Maddux enjoyed exerting authority over her physical responses . . . and her body loved yielding to his commands.
“I know,” she said, and brazenly straddled his lap on the chair, tucking her knees on either side of his hips while her fingers finished unfastening the rest of the buttons on his shirt so she could touch his bare skin. “You have to know, based on the things we’ve already done, that sweet, gentle, and romantic isn’t what I want, either.”
His eyes blazed with frustration and fire as they stared into hers, but he didn’t touch her despite the fact that she was sitting on his thighs half-naked, her hair tumbling around her shoulders and curling right above the swells of her breasts. His entire body was tense, his restraint admirable, but she didn’t want his chivalrous gesture about saving her virginity, and she was determined to fracture his admirable control. The thought of him snapping and going all alpha male on her caused Arabella to shiver in anticipation.
“I have waited a very long time to come across a man who makes me feel the way you do,” she went on, parting the sides of his shirt to give her a better view of his wide shoulders, his broad chest, and those tight abs she wanted to lick. “A man who is real, and not just a figment of my dirty fantasies when I need to get off when I’m alone in my bed at night or a dominant, fictional hero I read about in one of my books.”
Upping her game, she placed her hands over her breasts, fondling them as he watched. “You touch me, and I burn and ache.” She pulled at her nipples, having learned from Maddux that she liked that edge of pain that arrowed its way down to her core. “You give me that dark, lust-filled look, the exact one you’re giving me right now, and I get hot and restless and wetter than I thought was even possible.”
A low, rumbling noise rose from his chest, his expression dangerously threatening. “You need to fucking stop,” he said though his clenched teeth.
“No, you need to give me what I want,” she said, smiling at him oh so sweetly, contradicting the naughty way she rolled her hips and rubbed her sex along the length of his rigid shaft. Despite the barrier of his pants and her underwear, the pressure and friction had him hissing out a harsh stream of breath.
She flattened her hands on his pecs and skimmed her thumbs over his hard nipples, then leaned in closer, until her lips touched the side of his neck without the scars, and moved up toward his ear. “You make me feel wanted and desired like no one ever has before,” she whispered, sharing her deepest secrets with him. “My body responds to your demands in ways that I always thought were forbidden or wrong, but how can something that feels so damn good be anything but perfectly right?”
“Arabella, stop.” He barked out the order, using her full name in a firm tone that did nothing to dissuade her.
“I want to experience this, and you, for as long as it lasts,” she went on, placing a warm kiss at his throat before lifting her head and looking into amber eyes that were broiling with a raw lust and need she wanted to see crack and spill over for her.
She settled her hands on either side of his face, feeling emotionally exposed and vulnerable as she laid a part of her heart bare and gave him all she had left. “The night you took me in exchange for my father, you demanded my total surrender, Maddux. I gave it to you. Take it. Please. It’s yours. I’m yours.”
The change in him happened so fast, Arabella was unprepared for the sudden, tumultuous transformation . . . from a determined man keeping his desires on lock-down to the sudden power that shifted through his big, strapping body as he took charge. It was startling and exhilarating. It was exactly what she’d asked for, yet she couldn’t contain her gasp as he plowed all ten of his fingers through her hair, gripped the strands in his fists, and jerked her mouth up to his.
Her hands landed on his chest for support, and like a violent storm unleashed, his firm lips brutally pushed hers apart, providing the entrance he wanted for the deep, invading thrust of his tongue. A possessive growl erupted from his throat as his mouth ravaged hers, the kiss rough, ruthless, and nothing short of uncivilized.
Arabella had the fle
eting thought that she’d pushed him to this . . . and she was glad she had because instead of shock or fear, his pure dominance filled her with a thrilling, provocative power of her own and spiked her desire to intoxicating, addicting levels where she wanted, and needed, more.
When he finally released her mouth, he was breathing hard as he stared down into her eyes. “Want to know how dark and dirty I can get, Bella?” he rasped, and all she could manage was a whimper and an eager nod that resulted in an approving, wicked smile appearing on his lips. “Yeah, you want it so fucking dirty, don’t you, sweet girl?”
His hands untangled from her hair and gripped her hips. He yanked her forward, fitting the thick length of his erection against the front panel of her already soaked panties, nudging hard against her drenched flesh and needy clit. The ache in her sex built, and she shamelessly rubbed up against his dick like a cat in heat.
“Yeah, grind your pussy all over my cock,” he murmured, his heavy-lidded gaze on her face as he grabbed her ass in his hands and rolled her hips tighter and harder against his. “Give me a filthy lap dance and make yourself come just like this. I’m going to need you nice and soft and slick in order to bury myself as deep as I need to go in your tight pussy. That’s what you want, right?”
Her head nodded jerkily, and she panted and squirmed eagerly against him. “Yes, please.”
He gave her a lascivious smile as he smacked her ass with the flat of his palm, making her gasp at the delicious burn spreading across her backside and down between her thighs. “Then get to work, sweetheart, and give yourself that orgasm.”
He twisted his fingers into her hair again, this time to pull her head back and force her to arch her spine, which offered up her breasts to his mouth. He captured a nipple, and the hot, suctioning pull on that tender nub of flesh, followed by the swirl of his tongue, and finishing with the wicked scrape of his teeth drove her wild. With every bite, with every firm lick, her nipples swelled until they were so tender and sensitive it was like he had a direct line to teasing her clit.
