I rolled my eyes and waved the waiter over. “Can you please seat my guest at a nearby table and bring him whatever he wants?”
The waiter sputtered. “I’m sorry, we don’t offer table service to non-members.”
“Well, what exactly is he supposed to do?”
The waiter twitched in agitation. “He could eat at the bar, or he can stand near the window, as long as he stays out of our way.”
Usually, Derek sat at the bar and ate, but I knew that Aaron would never take that liberty.
Brent slung his arm around me. “Come on,” he frowned. “Who cares what he does? Let him be.”
I glanced at Aaron. He stood by, looking fierce. I knew that Aaron would choose to stand off to the side. Worse, he’d watch us eat and drink for hours without complaint. It surprised me how much I hated that idea.
“Fine,” I said to the waiter. “I’d like a table near this one. For my guest and myself.”
“Yes, miss.” He bowed slightly before moving to set up a table. Aaron sat down across from me.
“What are you doing?” His gaze challenged me.
I sighed. Good deeds did go unnoticed. “Your choice is to sit here and have dinner, or you could go sit at the bar and have dinner, or you can stand by the window and watch me eat with my friends. Up to you.”
His eyes moved around the room, and then his eyes returned to mine. “Thanks.”
The waiter, who hovered behind us, rushed forward when I put my menu down. “Please put our meal on my tab. I’ll have the filet mignon with roasted veggies, no butter, no carbs and a glass of your house white.”
“Yes, miss.”
Aaron shut his menu and ordered a 20-oz rib steak along with a baked potato and a glass of water.
“Caveman, much?” I stared at his mouth. Loving how he never quite smiled, but when he was amused, his lips slightly curled.
“I’m hungry.”
“Apparently.”
He glanced over at my table of friends. “Now what?”
“Now, I’m going to sit with my friends, and you’ll enjoy your dinner alone.” I wished I could stay and watch him eat his massive steak. I wanted to try and coax another smile out of him.
With a decisiveness I didn’t feel, I placed my napkin on the table, and stood up. In my circles, when a woman stands up at a table, the men at the table also stand up. Aaron remained seated, but he lightly grasped my wrist, halting me when I tried to walk away.
I stared down into those blue eyes. I loved the feeling of his big hand wrapped around my wrist. His warm touch made my skin tingle.
“Thanks, Princess.”
“You’re welcome, Slave,” I said, deadpan.
I spun on my heels to the sound of his low laughter, and my lips fought a smile.
* * *
The boys were drunk, and I wanted to go home. I had wanted to sit next to Mari so I could have a good view of Aaron enjoying his steak. Instead, Brent had grabbed my hand and pulled me to sit down next to him, leaving me with my back to Aaron. Probably for the best. I already struggled to keep my eyes off Aaron.
Brent leaned in, his breath hot and stinking of whiskey. “Hey, how are you?”
I leaned back a fraction and flashed him a smile. “Fine.”
His lips dropped to my mouth. “You made me a happy man.”
I gave Mari a look. The one that said I wanted to leave. She turned away, ignoring my signal.
“How’s that?”
“When you dumped Garrett, I knew it was just a matter of time until we’d be together.”
I turned and met Brent’s gaze directly. His eyes were bloodshot, and he struggled to focus on my face. I worked to refrain from rolling my eyes. It baffled me that I used to have a crush on this guy.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?”
I placed my napkin on the table and stood up and watched as every guy around the table stood up with me. I contemplated that. When you thought about it, it was a stupid rule.
I stepped away from the table, glancing back at Aaron. Three women, all the same age as my mother, stood around his table. One divorcee played with her pearls and devoured Aaron with her greedy eyes. The guy was a serious chick magnet.
I inwardly rolled my eyes and made my way to the washroom. I squeaked when a sweaty hand grabbed mine and tugged me around the corner.
“Brent, what are you doing?” I exclaimed, fighting his grip.
“Come on.” He flashed a boyish smile back at me. “I have something to show you.”
“I can’t.” I tugged at his hand to no avail.
“Come on.” He coaxed as he dragged me behind him. “It won’t take a second.”
“You’re drunk. I’m not supposed to be out of sight of Aaron.”
“Who?” He opened a door and pulled me in, before shutting the door behind him.
I crossed my arms, anxious about Aaron’s reaction. “This isn’t funny.”
He took a step towards me. “The door is locked. And it looks like we’re alone.”
I tried to step around him, but he moved surprisingly quick for a drunk. “Ha!” he laughed. “Going somewhere?”
Someone knocked at the door. Then the door handle rattled. “Femi?”
Aaron!
“One moment,” I called back.
Brent laughed as he yanked me into his arms. I fought him, but his fingers dug into my waist.
“Oh, feisty. I like that.”
Aaron’s voice sounded annoyed. “Femi, you have three seconds to open this door.”
“Wait a second,” I called over Brent’s shoulder, fighting his tentacle arms. “Brent, you need to let me go. Now!”
“Not before you kiss me.” His mouth came down towards mine, but I avoided getting second-hand drunk by turning my face away.
“Stop it!”
A tremendous crack splintered the air.
“What the fuck?” Brent blinked in confusion.
Aaron stood in the doorway, and the door tilted sideways. Aaron had kicked the door in. The expression on his face measured somewhere between pissed and livid.
I licked my numb lips. “This wasn’t my idea.”
He snapped his fingers. “Now.”
I pushed Brent off me and walked towards Aaron. Disbelief made me pause in front of the heavy wooden door. The bottom hinges had been ripped off. How strong did you have to be to kick open a door?
“I can’t believe you kicked in the door.”
A dangerous thrill, that I enjoyed way too much, zipped up my spine.
“What did we agree to this morning?”
My breath came out of me in little huffs. “Who’s going to pay for this door?”
Without answering me, he grabbed my forearm in a steel grip and steered me through the restaurant. He paused us in front of my shocked friends only long enough that I could grab my purse. Without letting me say goodbye, he steered me out of the club.
Chapter 6
Femi
I climbed into the back of our car and scooted over when he came in after me. He slammed the door.
His face was a mask of irritation.
“I can explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he cut me off.
“There’s a good explanation for this,” I protested.
“Stop the car,” he ordered the driver. The car slammed to a stop, and he got out. In disbelief, I watched as he got into the front seat.
I ached to whack him across the back of the head with my purse, but somehow I managed to restrain myself.
Stupid, stupid Brent. Why hadn’t I fought him harder? Now Aaron was pissed because he probably thought I had been trying to outrun him. Which, ironically, had been my last intention.
I needed him.
A crazy madman was threatening to slice and dice me. I didn’t need a guard that willingly polished my shoes. I needed someone that’d kick open a door if I disappeared out of his sight for more than 30 seconds.
I worked to calm my heart. I’d s
imply explain. He was a reasonable guy.
* * *
“Be reasonable,” I yelled at Aaron’s back. He ignored me as he swept through my suite like an FBI agent would search the president’s quarters.
“Listen to me,” I rushed after him, watching as he opened my walk-in closet. We both stared at the strewn clothes that Mari had carelessly tossed around.
“I didn’t do that.”
His face showed disdain as he walked to the bathroom.
I needed him to hear my case. “I didn’t want to go with Brent.”
He turned, so we stood toe to toe. Except he towered almost a foot above me, so I had to crane my head back to see his face.
“You lasted less than 12 hours before you broke the promise you made to me.”
“Brent grabbed me. He pulled me into that room. I didn’t want to go.”
“Sure didn’t look that way to me.”
Familiar anger slowly wrapped around my body. “What does that mean?”
“You think I’m an idiot? You stole away with your little boyfriend so you could kiss in private. Newsflash, kid, I don’t care if you bring him up to your suite and fuck him five ways to Sunday. But don’t disappear.”
My fingers itched to slap him. “I’m not a kid. I’m only three years younger than you.”
His laughter jeered. “Sweetheart. I’m a man, and you’re just a little girl who hasn’t grown up yet.”
His insult burned. Garbled indignation escaped out of my throat. I pushed hard against his chest. “A real man knows to stand up when a woman stands at the table. A real man knows to open the car door for a woman and not climb in after her like some sort of wildebeest.”
His nostrils flared. “Manners don’t make a man. Where I come from, the ability to shoot to kill without hesitation separates the men from the boys. Trust me, that little brat you let feel you up wouldn’t last a day on my job. He wouldn’t survive ten minutes.”
I did not doubt that fact.
“His kisses felt like the kisses of a real man,” I lied, my chest heaving.
He rocked back on his heels and scoffed. “You obviously haven’t been kissed by a man then, darling.”
Instead of my fists, I tried to use my sharp tongue to hurt. “Says the Neanderthal whose best move is to grind your face against a woman, all barbaric and horrible.”
Okay, maybe not my best insult, but I get flustered when I’m pissed.
I squeaked as I felt him yank me hard. All 6’4” of his hard, muscular body pinned me against the door with a delicious strength that made my stomach do weird flip-flops.
His hand brushed the hair off my forehead with a gentleness that made me want to weep. His eyes traced over my features before they dropped to my mouth.
My chest rose up and down.
I wanted him to kiss me. So bad.
“Ready for some horrible and barbaric face grinding?” His body pushed harder against mine. I felt the blunt throb of his arousal against my stomach through the thin silk of my dress.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed.
His hand moved to my throat, and his thumb pressed on my wild pulse that exposed my thundering heartbeat. His other hand moved behind my head, tangling in my hair.
My eyes widened as his mouth came down to cover mine. It was the kiss of a scoundrel, filled with wicked intentions and sinful promises. His tongue sensually explored my mouth, making my head spin and my body quake. I moaned, pressing my body tighter against his. He deepened the kiss and knocked my world off its axis. My numb fingers fluttered on his shoulders as he plundered my lips, leaving no room for interpretation about what he wanted to do. This was a sex kiss. His desire, his skill and the taste of his mouth made me weak with hunger.
I wanted to have sex with this man.
As if he could hear my thoughts, he lifted his head and studied me. I felt like a simpering, stunned teenager who’d just received her first kiss because I couldn’t remember a single kiss that had happened before this one.
He stepped back and shuttered his emotions, hiding his desire behind his benign expression.
“That was a mistake.”
“Aaron,” I gasped.
“That will never happen again, Miss Payne. Have a good night.”
“Wait!” I cried, following him through my suite. He didn’t look back. He opened the door and then firmly shut it behind him.
I staggered to the settee, the very one he had slept on this morning and pressed my fist to my mouth. That kiss. Dear fuck, that kiss. He’d almost blown my head off with his sexual force.
I swallowed hard.
I wanted him. I wanted to sleep with him.
Now, I needed to figure out how to make that happen.
Chapter 7
Aaron
“How’s it going?” Terry asked from his seat across from the door.
I buttoned my jacket over my raging erection. “She’s had a rough night. Under no circumstances does she leave that suite. And keep your head up.”
Terry blinked at my harsh tone. “Yes, sir.”
Trying not to walk bowlegged, I made my way down to my room. My cock throbbed so hard it actually hurt.
What the fuck had I been thinking kissing her? What did she call me? A wildebeest, a Neanderthal? I was both. I was also a raving lunatic for crossing a line I had no business crossing.
As punishment, I dropped onto my bed and refused to touch myself. I knew three short jerks, and I’d explode, but I didn’t deserve a release. I deserved the pain, the agony. To remind me that Femi Payne was off fucking limits.
What had I been thinking?
Memories of that lush mouth, those throaty moans, that tight little body pressing back against mine rushed over me.
I could feel my hard-on grow. I groaned and stripped, before stepping into a cold shower.
I rested my forehead against the shower wall, as ice water rained over my body. I needed to survive 26 more days.
New rules.
Don’t look at Femi.
Don’t engage with her.
Don’t talk to her or check out that tight little ass.
Don’t imagine pushing my hands into that thick hair.
I groaned.
Don’t go there.
Now I needed to figure out how to take my advice.
Chapter 8
Femi
I stood in my bathroom, and nervously smoothed the fabric of my negligée over my body. I had bought it in a small boutique designer store in the heart of Paris. The dove grey fabric warmed the color of my skin. The spaghetti straps, showcased my shoulders and the cut of the fabric dipped down in front to showcase something else. It ended at my mid-thigh. My hair tumbled down my back, in a riot of carefully styled messy curls. I carefully applied eye makeup and finished my look with soft, glossy pink lips.
I checked the slim Cartier watch that adorned my wrist. I had texted Aaron to be here precisely at 10:30 AM. It was now 10:29 AM. I swallowed my nerves. Every man loved lingerie, right?
I needed him to see exactly what he was missing when he decreed our kiss a mistake.
At 10:30 AM, a sharp knock sounded on the door. I chickened out and grabbed a soft short silk robe, pulling it over my shoulders but resolutely refused to tie it around my waist.
I opened the door and didn’t look at him. “I’m running late. Come in.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Do you want some coffee? I had a pot sent up.”
His eyes feasted on my ass.
I stopped moving. “Aaron?”
Those eyes lifted and electrified me. “What?”
“I asked if you wanted some coffee while you waited?”
His eyes slid down my body and then snapped back to my face. “No.”
I let a soft smile play on my lips. “Okay, well if you’re sure? I requested fresh cream and lots of sugar.”
My double entendre was about as subtle as a sledgehammer.
His nostrils flared, and then he turned, so h
is back was to me. “I can wait outside while you get ready.”
“Relax,” I encouraged. “I won’t be a moment.”
I slowly sashayed back to my room.
Femi 1 - Aaron 0.
* * *
I won that battle, but we had entered a cold war, and he was winning. For nine days, Aaron acted like I was public enemy number one.
Other than the first morning, when he couldn’t tear his eyes off my body, he now couldn’t stand to look at me. He gazed through me without seeing me.
Any conversation I tried to have with him, he responded with one-word answers in a clipped tone. And the worst part? He now referred to me as Miss Payne.
I felt a range of emotions that rumbled between exasperation and embarrassment. His rejection cut me deeply. My entire life I had been overlooked by my busy parents, and even though my relationship with them had improved, his behavior triggered old wounds. The energy I spent on not acting out against him started to fray my nerves. How I longed to throw this job in his face and push him away, but the fact remained that I needed him.
I needed him to protect me.
I needed those watchful, crystal blue eyes to keep me in his sight at all times.
I needed his constant, disciplined assessment of our environment that kept me safe and out of harm's way.
Even if he hated me, he did his job with ruthless perseverance that made all my other bodyguards look like clowns.
That was why I forced myself to keep my temper tantrums in check. I also avoided my party friends, which pretty much defeated the reason for me being in New York since they were the only reason I visited here. Instead, I spent long days sitting in a cafe, while my protective bodyguard kept vigilant watch over me from the next table over.
Now on this rainy afternoon, we sat in such a cafe, while I read my book and sipped my latte.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
I glanced up to see a tall, leggy blond with a friendly smile, stand next to Aaron. Yes, pretty much every table in the cafe was full, but I noted at least five other men were sitting alone at their tables, and she didn’t ask to sit with them.
My Donut Princess: The Navy SEAL Series, Novella Page 3
