Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family)

by Layla Hagen

  Try living without a family for a change.

  My hackles rise. I can’t believe anyone would trash Blake and his family like this. Then there’s also the small fact that they insulted me. I feel like punching the door, but then again, the poor door hasn’t done anything to upset me. These women, on the other hand...

  “Rich trumps annoying. Blake was always generous. Maybe I’ll give him another go after he stops running around with that twat. If I can’t get a ring, at least I’ll get myself some more jewelry. You’re right about the family, though. And now so many of them have kids. It’s a nightmare. Blake was spending time with them almost every weekend. I think he was hoping I’d join him, but he never straight-up asked. I think my eye rolls were a dead giveaway. Like there aren’t a million better things to do in a weekend than waste them with brats.”

  What the hell? Who talks like that about kids? What kind of person picks on innocents? Bullies, that’s who. Now I understand why Blake waited a while before asking me to join him during his time with the kids.

  Right, it’s time to step out and face the music. I quickly rearrange the dress over my chest and open the door of the cubicle. The two women smirk when they see me, then return to refreshing their makeup. Since they’re silent, I can’t tell who’s who. Time to find out.

  “So, which one’s the bitch and which one’s the sidekick?”

  Their faces fall simultaneously, and I don’t feel one ounce of guilt.

  “What did you just call us?”

  “Ah, you’re the bitch. I recognize the voice.” I have to admit, Blake has exquisite taste in women. This particular one could stride down the runway herself. Leggy, blonde, huge boobs. What the hell am I thinking? He has terrible taste in women. She’s a viper.

  “You don’t talk to me like that.”

  I’m not catty often, but when I am, I have a damn good reason. I’m pissed.

  “I talk how I want to anyone who insults the Bennett family and me. They’re good people. The best people. And you don’t pick on kids. Anyone with a shred of decency knows that.”

  “Please,” the bitch says with a smirk.

  The sidekick tilts her head to one side. “Insipid and potty-mouthed. My, hasn’t Blake gotten himself quite a deal.”

  “You two must have very sad lives if you’re wasting such a beautiful evening gossiping about others instead of enjoying yourselves.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Blake is a great man. If all you’ve wanted from him were presents and money, you missed out on the best.”

  Both women snort, and then I realize I’m stooping to their level. Instead of wasting my time here, I could be chatting and laughing with the clan. Without another word, I leave the bathroom, feeling a lot calmer. I have to admit, letting out the anger is a good thing. It brings relief.

  I walk at a brisk pace to my place. The table is empty because everyone is mingling during the break. Our glasses have been refilled with champagne, and I immediately attack mine.

  Blake drops in his seat a few seconds later, kissing my forehead.

  “What took you so long?”

  “Ran into some unpleasant people.”

  “Are you okay? Do I need to punch someone?”

  “No. You just have terrible taste in women.”

  “What?”

  “Look over my shoulder, two rows back and three tables to the right.”

  I saw them return to their table shortly after I did. Blake looks and groans. Then he focuses on me again.

  “Yes, I’ve made some questionable choices in the past.”

  “Questionable implies there might be some chance of redemption.”

  He smiles. “Bad choices. That was one of the worst.”

  “Now we’re talking.”

  He slides a thumb under my jaw, shifting to the edge of his seat, closer to me.

  His smile grows more pronounced. “I’ve never seen you mad. It’s a good look on you. You’re fierce. Maybe I should get you mad more often.”

  I huff, pulling away. This man is clueless, but I’ll show him the right ways. “Don’t. I don’t like to get mad. It’s a waste of energy. Then I get mad at myself for being mad. Like now. Instead of enjoying this evening, I’m—why are you laughing?”

  “Your monologue is adorable. You ramble even more than usual.”

  “Thanks, you’re really winning points right now.”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to win points.”

  I sigh. “You weren’t. I’m still rambling. Just…how could you be with that woman?”

  “Loneliness. I used to think that bad company is better than no company.”

  I have no comeback to that. It had never occurred to me that Blake could get lonely. Not with his large family or his social skills. It seems that whenever I see him, he’s in the midst of a crowd, either chatting or entertaining the group.

  “But I was a jackass for a long time, so I got what I deserved. Sorry you ran into Vivian, though.”

  “That’s her name? Sounds like a villain, which fits, I guess. I would’ve pegged her for a Cruella or something.”

  “I can’t believe you’re sassy even when you’re pissed.”

  “I do what I can. She was really bitchy, about you, me, your family. I can’t believe anyone would pick on your family—even the kids. I gave her a piece of my mind.”

  He cups my cheek, kissing the tip of my nose. “You defended my family?”

  “Yeah. You too. She said some things. Never mind. Don’t really think I set her straight, but at least I got it off my chest.”

  “You’re amazing, Clara. Can I keep you?”

  My heart flips, and I simply lean in to him, hungry for more contact. But then his eyes grow hard, startling me.

  “What did she say about you?”

  “Eh, standard bitchy stuff. That I’m insipid, invisible. Shouldn’t have let it bother me.”

  He pulls back a notch so he’s staring directly at me, eyes hard. “Just so we’re clear, you’re never invisible. I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” I murmur.

  “I mean every one of them.”

  “That’s what makes you sweet.”

  “We really have to work on your compliments, darling. Might want to use some more masculine ones.”

  “Nope. Sweet about covers it.”

  Cocking a brow, he rests his hand on my shoulder, moving his thumb on my collarbone. Shit. That’s not a sweet spot for me, but right now, having his hand there feels so good. Too good.

  “You’re also sexy.” I lick my lips. “And intense.”

  He slips his thumb under the strap of my dress, his eyes never leaving mine. Holy bejeezus.

  “Very intense. Keep your hands to yourself, mister.” To drive the point home, I push his hand away from my shoulder, inching back with my chair. “We’re in public.”

  Which I almost forgot until I mentioned it. People are milling around, socializing. We’re surrounded by the buzz of their voices and the background music, but Blake made me forget everything. The table fills, and as Ava sits, she leans in to me.

  “By the way, at the next girls’ outing, you’re spilling every detail,” she whispers.

  I grin sheepishly. “Don’t worry about that. If there’s one thing I’m not good at, it’s keeping my mouth shut.”

  She nods happily. “You have that post-hanky-panky glow that only comes from excellent hanky-panky.”

  “Glow? I’m so far past glowing, I’m practically a neon sign.”

  The lights dim again and the show starts back up. We all watch in silence, and I’m in awe once more.

  Once it ends, a number of people crowd in on us, congratulating the family on the excellent show. One such person is Caroline. I know her from the various Bennett weddings, and she even joined us for the odd girls’ outing. Such a pity she and Daniel broke up, and then she drifted away from the family.

  With chagrin, I realize that seems to be my own story, minus the
over part and the drifting away part. No, no, this is different. I went into this with eyes wide open. Blake and I are enjoying each other while we’re neighbors, and that’s it. I’m not harboring any secret dreams of happy ever after. Okay, so I am harboring secret dreams; sometimes they’re so secret, I manage to convince myself they don’t exist.

  “Caroline, long time no see,” Ava says.

  “Not that long. I was at the wedding.”

  Ava makes more small talk with Caroline, but I’m busy observing Daniel—specifically the way he looks at Caroline. With longing. Well, well.

  My meddling tendencies are rearing their head, but pffffffft...I’m a little fuzzy from the champagne. This might be a task for the master meddler, Pippa. Or at least a sober Clara. Before I can whip a coherent plan here, Caroline’s gone again.

  ***

  I’m unsteady on my feet as Blake and I leave the venue a few minutes later.

  “Can we walk a few blocks and then grab a cab?” I ask Blake, needing some fresh air.

  “Sure.”

  “How can I be so light-headed?” I ask, holding on to him for dear life. I’m really unsteady on my feet. “I just had two glasses.”

  “Three. You drank mine too,” Blake exclaims.

  Oh crap. Well, that explains why my glass wasn’t getting empty even though I kept drinking.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, my drunk girl.”

  “Tipsy,” I correct.

  “Got it.”

  “But I’ll pretend I’m drunk if it means you’ll take care of me.”

  We come to a halt between two Jacaranda trees, and he pulls me flush against him.

  “I thought you didn’t want me to take care of you.” He nuzzles his nose against mine in an Eskimo kiss. Ah, damn it, Blake! He has to turn down the charm, right now, or I might say some things I shouldn’t.

  I put a finger to my lips. “Shhh, it’s a secret, but I actually love it that you’re so protective and attentive.”

  On a whim, I kiss his cheek lightly.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Bringing me to the show with your family. I didn’t know how ‘no labels’ works exactly. If it meant just fun under the covers, or....”

  Damn champagne. It loosens my tongue, and I really need no help in that department. I speak too much as it is, and one is not supposed to say these things out loud.

  Blake wraps an arm around my waist, cupping my cheek with the other hand, and holds my gaze captive in his.

  “I want to make one thing clear. There’s going to be rough fucking and sweet lovemaking and everything in between. But it will always be more than fun under the covers. Okay?”

  I shudder involuntarily as I nod. “Okay.”

  “When I said I want you in my life, not just my bed, I meant it. And here’s a label for you—mine. You’re mine.”

  “You’re being sweet again. Just thought I’d point that out.” I inform him. Lucky he’s holding me tight, because I’m swooning a little. A lot, actually. “I know you had plans for us tonight, sorry. I don’t think I’m up to anything.”

  “Let’s get you home, drunk girl.”

  “Tipsy. Just tipsy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Blake

  Daniel and I used to stick around for the show after party, give press interviews, but not anymore. It doesn’t help Bennett Enterprises, but it does attract people like Vivian.

  “We’re going too fast,” Clara mumbles. She’s adorable when she’s had too much to drink. By the time the cab pulls in front of our building, she’s steadier on her feet, but something in the way she moves gives her away. Doesn’t matter. She’s safe with me. I’m here to look after her, every step of the way.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asks once we’re in front of her door, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated way.

  “Are you trying to flirt?”

  She pouts. “If you have to ask, I’m failing miserably.”

  “I was going to come in anyway, make you sure you get into your bed safely.”

  She nods eagerly, turning around and unlocking the door with surprising ease. Once inside, I take her in my arms and kiss her like I’ve been meaning to ever since we left. Christ, I can’t get enough of this woman. She got under my skin, and I want her to stay there. In fact, I’m determined to get under her skin and stay there. The recognition startles me because this is another first for me. I’m out of my depth when it comes to this, but I’m determined to make this woman the happiest she’s ever been. I can’t go wrong with that.

  “What are you thinking?” she asks when I kiss down her neck. “I can feel you thinking.”

  “I’m thinking that I can’t get enough of you. This was just an apartment before, but now it’s home. You made it home. You’re real, open, honest.” I kiss back up the side of her neck, then her cheek.

  “Especially when I’m drunk.”

  “I thought it was just tipsy.”

  We both laugh.

  “Right, tipsy. I’m much better now, though.” She steps back and twirls around as if to make her point. Okay, I’ll give her that, she’s steady on her feet. “This dress is so pretty. It’s the kind of pretty that makes me feel pretty.”

  Her words slice through me. “You are beautiful, Clara. Never doubt that.”

  “Not like you, though. Not in your league.”

  “What?”

  “You’re Blakealicious.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “It should be. Blake and delicious combined. You’re so hot, you’re down right lickable,” she explains seriously, “and I’m—”

  “Mine. You’re mine.”

  “I really like that label,” she whispers, her eyes wide and uncertain, like she just confessed a deep secret. I meet her admission with one of my own.

  “Me too.”

  She’s still not one hundred percent sober because she wouldn’t talk so freely. Despite being a chatterbox, Clara keeps her cards close when it comes to her feelings. Except after drinking. Lucky me. And I know exactly how I will convince my woman that she’s fucking beautiful. I will show her.

  I kiss her hard, tasting her frantically. I need her—now, all night. But I want to take my time and pace myself. Then again, I set that goal every time we’re together, and I end up being rough and demanding with her. We’re a tangle of limbs as we head to her bedroom, and once we’re inside, I pull her to a wall, turning her around.

  “Put your hands against the wall.”

  She does just that, and I lift her dress inch by inch until my fingers feel her soft and smooth skin. I skim my hands between her legs and she immediately splays them wider, giving me access. I drag my thumb along the scrap of fabric covering her entrance, rubbing her over her panties in a slow, lavish movement. Pushing her hair to one side, I kiss the back of her neck as I continue driving her crazy with my thumb. Her soft moans fill the silence, and I lower my other hand to cup one ass cheek. Her skin turns to goose bumps under my grip. I love how responsive she is to me. When I feel her soak through the fabric, I take my hands off her. She swirls around, eyes wide and pleading.

  “Blake,” she protests. I scoop her in my arms, drowning her protests with a long and hard kiss, and she laces her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. She tastes sweet, and for a moment, I consider simply kissing her the entire night. Then I lower her on the bed, and we share an accomplice smile before ridding each other of their clothes.

  “Careful with the dress.” She smiles up at me. “But don’t worry. You can be rough with me all you want.”

  That smile is my undoing. My plan to take it slow just went out the window. Having her naked in front of me isn’t helping my case either.

  She flicks on the light switch at the side of the bed, and I love that there is no hesitation in that action. She is damn beautiful, every single part of her, and I’ll make sure she knows that. I’ll remind her every day and every night, worship her.

  “That�
��s it, I want to see you, babe. You’re so damn beautiful.”

  Clara sits on the bed, and my erection is in front of her. She licks once across the crown, and energy strums through me, settling at the base of my spine. Then she leans on her back on the bed.

  “You think you’re the only one who can tease?” she asks.

  “You can tease me all you want. But you don’t make the rules, Clara. I do.”

  I move over her, and she spreads her legs to her side, opening up for me. I close in, fist my erection at the base, and slap one of her folds with it, then the other. When I push the tip over her clit, she digs her nails in my arms.

  “You like this?”

  “Yes. I like everything you do to me.”

  “Fuck, Clara. Grip the headboard.”

  “But I want to touch you.”

  “Grip the headboard,” I repeat, and she lets go of me, doing as I instruct. “Good. If you don’t keep them there, I’ll tie you up.”

  Her eyes widen and her breathing intensifies. I pull back, lowering myself on the bed until my face is between her legs. Then I cup each ass cheek in one hand, pushing her ass high in the air until I have access everywhere I want.

  I lick her from her crack to her clit. She digs her heels deeper in the mattress, her toes twitching and curling. Oh yes. I want to bring her right to the cusp before I slide inside her. I dip my tongue into her opening and feel the muscles in her ass contract under my fingertips as her inner muscles spasm around my tongue. She’s gripping the headboard tighter, pushing herself on her heels like this is too much for her. I like seeing her like this: unrestrained, feeling and enjoying, reveling in the pleasure. Pulling away, I run my hands over her ankles, then kiss the same spots, first lavishing one leg with attention and then the other.

  “You’re gorgeous, Clara.” I continue upward until I reach her navel. Her breathing is frantic, and I have a perfect view to her breasts moving up and down. Christ, she’s a sight.

  “Let go of the headboard.”

  She obeys immediately, possibly thinking she’s finally allowed to touch me. I have other plans. I flip her on her stomach and then kiss her everywhere, including her scars. Especially the scars.