“Don’t say it,” I begged. “Please.”
“We can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because you're technically my boss.”
“You’re fired.”
His lips twitched. “You know we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because Clark is my friend and he trusts me.”
“I’m a grown adult.”
“I can’t protect you if I’m distracted by you.”
“I won’t touch you in public.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
I knew what he meant, but I needed to hear it.
Out loud.
“How do you think you’d hurt me?”
“When I leave,” he ran his hand through his hair. “When I leave, I think it’ll hurt you.”
Which meant he had no plans for me past this job. Which I knew, but it hurt to hear that. A lot.
“I think you should go now,” I avoided his eyes.
He stood in front of me for a long moment and then he was gone.
Chapter 11
Aaron
Four days later
I knocked on the door of Femi’s suite and waited while she took her damn sweet time answering. Femi no longer rushed to the door when I knocked. These days, she made me wait, like the rest of her yes-men.
I didn’t blame her, because the other day, I’d blown it. Hard.
After I had kissed Femi, I developed a hair trigger where she was concerned, so I took a much-needed step back. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t talk to her. I treated her like she was an object to be guarded, nothing more and nothing less.
That stormy afternoon, when we were trapped together in the elevator, something shifted. My control slipped. I found her jealousy of the yoga chick adorable. And her honest confession about her fears made me take a step closer. I should have said no when she invited me to stay for a movie, but her vulnerable tone made her irresistible, and I found myself stepping up to the line I had drawn in the sand.
For her, I wanted to be a friend. As good a friend as Tom-fucking-Hanks would be, but instead, I crossed the line when I licked her delicate wrist. I was giving her more mixed messages than a preteen with mood swings.
The clincher came when she turned those big brown eyes my way and all but begged for a kiss. Femi fascinated me. And frustrated me. She made me laugh and drove me batshit crazy, but she wasn’t someone that would fit into my life. In my real life, I lived on a boat, with a middle-aged cat and a shower that was more of a trickle than a spray. I was a hardcore Navy SEAL, deployed up to 10 months of the year. That wasn’t a life for a princess.
I would have taken that kiss as far as she would let me. I knew if I had one taste, I’d want more.
So, using the very last vestige of my willpower, I pushed her and her open invitation away, with some bullshit story about how I didn’t want to hurt her.
Now she ignored me. She looked through me. She avoided me. Hell, half the time, I think she stayed in her suite because she didn’t want to see me.
This had been my intention, so it pissed me off that I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
I knocked harder. “Femi?”
The door flung open. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak. She didn’t even look at me. Instead, she turned her back on me to gather her purse. Her sparkly silver dress twinkled and flashed when she moved, showing off her killer legs.
It was 9 PM. It was obvious she was going out clubbing, but I still asked the question.
“Where are we going?”
“Dancing.” Her thick, black hair hung in a riot of curls down her back. What did she look like naked with only that hair adorning her soft skin? I wanted to touch it, wrap it in my hands and use it to pull her closer to me.
“Tonight is going to be a late night, and I know your shift ends in an hour, so if you’d prefer for me to call someone else?”
FUCK that.
“Nah,” I forced my tone to be casual as the lie rolled off my tongue. “I had a private yoga session booked, but I can cancel.”
Her hands momentarily stilled and then trembling fingers closed the clasp of her purse. Cruel of me, but confirming I wasn’t completely cut out of her heart, warmed mine.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
* * *
The club was a bodyguard’s nightmare. Flashing lights, a crush of warm bodies, deafening, throbbing music made guarding Femi impossible from afar. My solution? At all times, I stood within arms reach of her.
She ignored me, and I watched her as she laughed and flitted around like a social butterfly, outshining all of her friends with her flashing smile and halo of dark hair.
I growled in my throat when the guys, the punk, preppy guys with their slicked-back hair and expensive cologne, put their arms around her tiny waist.
When I thought it couldn’t get worse, she put her drink down and made her way, with her friends, out to the dance floor. I followed close behind, and stood next to her, in the midst of a hundred moving bodies, and watched her dance.
She wasn’t the best dancer on the floor, but what she lacked in skill, she made up with sheer sexual energy. She seductively moved her body to the heavy beat of the music. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she danced for me, but not once did she look at me. My cock was so hard it hurt, but she never looked at me.
Donut Princess 1 - Aaron 0
Chapter 12
Femi
“Your bodyguard is fucking hot.” Mari screamed in my ear. “Do you think he might want to take me home?”
“Mari!” I sounded as shocked as I felt. Wasn’t it bad enough that strangers were hitting on him in cafes, but now I had to fight off my friends? “He’s off limits.”
She pouted. “You’re such a party pooper.”
“I pay him to protect me, not to fuck you.”
“He can do both!”
I stole a glance at Aaron. On the dance floor, everyone moved to the music, but he stood unmoving with his feet planted and his arms crossed. In the black light of the club, his harsh features seemed unimpressed. He reminded me of a tough dark angel that had fallen from the heavens. Untouched by the mere mortals on earth, he radiated strength and protection.
I tossed my hair. I don’t know why I cared. Aaron had not only rejected my advances, but tonight he indicated that he was seeing the blond yoga instructor from the cafe. A thought which made my stomach burn with rejection and humiliation. I pushed him away, no longer wanting to talk to him or engage with him, but that had been an act to cover up exactly how badly his actions had hurt me.
“Hey, Gorgeous.” Brent wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. I could smell hard liquor on his breath. When was this guy not drunk?
About to push him off, I saw Aaron’s nostrils flare, so instead, I spun around in Brent’s arms and put my hands on his shoulders. His eyes widened at my encouragement, and he yanked me hard against his boyish body. He ground his slim hips against mine.
I hated it. But instead of pushing him off like I wanted to, I tilted my head back and laughed. Stupid, but I wanted Aaron to believe that I was having the time of my life. I felt Brent’s hands on my ass, pulling me closer. I smiled, hiding my inner revulsion when his lips began to vacuum the skin on my neck. Wet, sloppy and with enough pressure that I knew I’d have a mark tomorrow.
I felt his hand slide up the back of my thigh, pushing up my dress.
“Brent, don’t.”
His hand persisted.
I reached behind me and tried to push his hand away. He became more forceful. In a couple of seconds, my dress would be up around my waist, and my thong would be on display for the world to see. I struggled to no avail.
Suddenly, Brent sat on his ass on the floor, and Aaron stood in front of me, his face a mask of rage.
Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and yanked me with unyielding strength through the crowd. I tripped after him, his grip on m
y fingers unrelenting.
He dragged me down a dark hallway, past the washrooms, past the kitchen, and beyond the dark staircase. Only then, did he let go of my hand.
The emergency light cast long, red shadows across our faces, and the sound of the dance music throbbed in the background.
“What are you doing?” I asked, almost afraid of his answer.
His lips were flat, and his big arms crossed over his chest. “Protecting you from getting molested in public.”
“Last time I checked, I was dancing.”
He stepped closer, so his face loomed down over mine. “Last time I checked, Brent had his hand between your legs.”
Did Aaron put his hand between the yoga instructor’s toned legs? “Maybe I liked it.”
“Trust me, I know when a woman is enjoying herself, and you were not.”
This man infuriated me. “You don’t want me, but you can’t stand it if I find someone else who makes me happy.”
“That little weasel wouldn’t know how to make you happy if I drew him a roadmap.”
I shoved against his immovable, hard chest. “You act like you’re god’s gift to women, but when I respond, you run away like a scared little boy. At least Brent has the guts to take a shot.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and he took a step closer to me.
I took a step back.
He took another predatory step closer.
Another retreating step and then my back pressed against the cold brick wall.
“Aaron,” I breathed.
Two massive hands came up to my neck, tilting my head back and then he slowly lowered his mouth to mine.
Our lips were a hairsbreadth apart.
“Why do you drive me so crazy?”
I could feel his hot breath against my lips, and I wanted to capture his words, the air he breathed, every part of him.
“You’re the one who drives me crazy.”
I felt his lips curl against mine in a smile. “You think I’m scared of you, Princess?”
“I know it.”
His kiss crushed my mouth, intense and so full of passion and greed, it made me gasp. His tongue plundered my mouth, with a relentless sexual wattage that made my head spin.
I moaned into his mouth, as my hands grasped his thick neck.
His big arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His hard cock, pressed through his jeans, through the thin fabric of my dress and dug into my stomach. The feeling of his hard arousal made my insides do cartwheels.
He lifted his head. “If you wanted someone to put their hand between your legs, you only had to ask, Princess.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I begged.
His big hand slid slowly up my bare inner thigh and then fingers butted up against my panties and teased my apex with a feather touch.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” I challenged.
He rewarded me with a smile that was so delicious my toes curled. “I think I can figure it out.”
Strong fingers pushed aside the bothersome fabric, and I lifted onto my tippy toes when he skimmed my clit. Those electric eyes, watched my face, as I felt big fingers rim my entrance.
“You’re so wet.”
“Aaron.” I gasped as my head fell back against the wall. He slowly pushed two fingers deep inside of me. I trembled with desire as he moved them with a wicked intention, sliding in and out of me. I stepped my shaking legs apart, giving him more access, wanting more. Needing more.
“That’s it.” His mouth moved to my ear, gently sucking and skimming the sensitive skin with his teeth.
It felt so decadent, so sinful, to be spread open to him in that dark public hall, while his fingers impaled me.
When his thumb languorously circled my clit, in direct contrast to his big thrusting fingers, the spark inside of me burst into a red-hot flame. I could feel my body respond with a savage jolt.
“Aaron, please,” I pleaded. I felt frantic, starved, on the edge of an unknown abyss.
His fingers curled inside of me, skimming something so decadent, so exquisite, I bucked against him.
His mouth pressed against mine. “Come for me.”
He swallowed my cry, as my body succumbed to his torturous pleasure. My hips strained, and I humped his hand with abandonment. I could feel myself convulse around his fingers, inner muscles clenching, as my orgasm washed over me in a mind-numbing wave.
“You have no idea what I want to do to you.” His eyes glittered like blue diamonds.
I whimpered as his fingers slid out of my sensitive and swollen pussy. He fussed with my dress, pulling it down over my legs and without saying a word, he took my hand, and led me back down the hallway, through the crush of dancing bodies and out the door of the club.
Chapter 13
Femi
I stood at the doorway of my suite and watched as Aaron did his usual sweep. He stopped in front of me. His expression was a mixture of regret and determination, which told me that he was going to leave. Frustration filled me. No one had ever affected me as he did. I wanted the full Aaron experience, and it drove me crazy that he continued to deny me.
I crossed my arms over the thin material of my dress. “Why do you keep on doing this to me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I asked why.”
“You know why.”
I shook my head, completely baffled. “Aaron, I don’t have a clue.”
He rubbed his face with one big hand, before blinking at me. “You turn me on.”
“Well, you turn me on.”
“Femi, nothing has changed. You don’t belong in my world any more than I belong in yours.”
What. The fuck.
My heart stopped. Every other guy would take my offer of sex without any thought of the future. I had expected Aaron to spout some bullshit about respecting his position of employment. I never expected him to reject me based on the fact that our future was untenable.
Which meant, if he thought our future was a bust, it meant he had thought about having a future with me. Which meant, that I was more than just sex to him. For some reason, that squeezed my heart so tight that I felt like I was watching a Tom Hank’s movie. That meant he cared, right? If he had thought about taking this past a fling, that must mean he cared.
Please, please, please.
I studied him, trying to imagine calling him my boyfriend. The thought made my heart sing so hard, it almost hurt. We could do this. I only needed to convince him otherwise. He was wrong. We could sleep together and then we’d figure things out.
I started my argument. “You don’t know that I don’t belong in your world.”
“I’m certain of that fact.”
“What’s so special about your world that I wouldn’t fit in?”
“There’s nothing special about my world, okay? We’re a bunch of hard-headed folks, that know how to dig deep. We work hard, and we play hard, and nothing in my world comes close to your world, except there may be a Payne donut shop on the base.”
He wasn’t even giving us a chance.
I felt myself flush hard. “You’re discriminating against me because I’m wealthy?”
“No, Femi. I’m realistic. I know how this will end. And I don’t think we should start.”
I wanted to throw myself on the floor in a temper tantrum. “Why do you touch me then? Why do you kiss me?”
He stepped close enough that I could feel the heat of his body through my clothes. He grabbed my small hand and pressed it against the monumental bulge in his jeans. Aaron was rocking a massive erection. “I told you why.”
I squeezed his huge length until he yanked my hand away.
His irises were so blown with desire, his blue eyes looking black.
“Please, Aaron.” I tried to keep the beg out of my voice, but I couldn’t hide my desperation.
At best, I had thought the most I’d get from Aaron was sex. I stared up at him, mesmerized by the idea of him becoming not just a bed
fellow, but a boyfriend. He’d make a fantastic boyfriend. I’d always known that, but I hadn’t realized that had been an option for me.
I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the idea that Aaron would want to date someone like me.
“Tell me what to do.”
He stepped back. “I think you should date other men and I think I should stop touching you.”
What? No!
“I don’t want to date anyone else.”
“Femi, this is never going to happen. Trust me on that.”
He might as well have slapped me.
“Why even tell me that then?” My eyes filled with angry tears.
“Tell you what?”
“You told me that I wouldn’t fit into your life.”
“Yeah, so.”
“Which means you thought about fitting me into your life.”
His jaw tightened. And he blinked once.
“This isn’t only about sex for you. So why tell me that and get my hopes up if you’re only going to tell me you can’t.”
He breathed in hard through his nostrils. “You’re confusing this.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I yelled.
“It’s not an option.”
I shook my head. “You’re a coward.”
“I’m a realist.”
“Get out,” I pointed at the door.
For a long, heart-wrenching moment, I thought he’d refuse, but then he walked out. I rushed after him so that I could slam the door as hard as possible on his ass.
If Aaron wanted me to go on dates, then I would go on some fucking dates. And I’d take my bodyguard with me.
Chapter 14
Femi
The restaurant was perfect. Connor, my date, was impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a dress shirt that, judging by the quality of the stitching, was no less than $500. His shoes were buffed to perfection, compliments, I’m sure, of his butler. He ordered the perfect bottle of wine that paired beautifully with our plates.
My Donut Princess: The Navy SEAL Series, Novella Page 5
