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Mr. Blackwell's Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance (A Good Wife Book 2)

Page 12

by Sienna Blake


  I tried to hold back as I thrust into her. I could barely maintain grip on myself, on reality. She pushed back with her hips, urging me to speed up, her breath coming out in short bursts as I slammed against her body, fragile like a vase. I felt the pressure building quickly inside me. I tried to hold off. I tried.

  Noriko cried out, shuddering underneath me. Thank fuck. My orgasm surged through my body, my fingers clawing into her bucking hips.

  Just as quickly, the energy seeped out of my limbs. I half-fell on top of her.

  She was a drug. My drug.

  I rolled to her side so I didn’t crush her. My breathing had calmed down and my tension slipped to a bearable level.

  She remained still, limp.

  Dear God. I broke her. You fucking animal.

  “Noriko?” My fingers touched her hair and her bare shoulder. I wanted to roll her towards me but I was terrified of what I might find on her face.

  “Did I hurt you?” Please tell me I didn’t hurt you. “I don’t know what came over me.” What the fuck was wrong with me?

  You’re turning into him, a dark voice whispered.

  I almost shoved her away in horror. Her soft voice cut through. “You didn’t hurt me. I was scared at first…”

  I stiffened.

  “…because I didn’t know what you were going to do. But…I liked it. More than liked it.” She turned towards me, her eyes hooded, cheeks flushed from sex, a smile playing at her cherry lips.

  I exhaled. Thank God.

  I should go. I still had business to take care of, phone calls to make…

  I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I didn’t want to yet.

  I pulled her against my chest and wrapped my arms around her, making sure her hair wasn’t caught under my arm or that I wasn’t putting too much pressure on any part of her.

  After a few moments I felt her relax, and I too, settled.

  This was fucking blissful, having this gorgeous creature in my arms, sated, in our own cocoon. I could get used to this.

  I suddenly became aware of how much this woman seemed to affect me. No one had affected me like this. Ever.

  I didn’t like that. I should go. I shouldn’t stay… The longer I stayed like this the more complicated things would get.

  She pulled back and her gaze locked on mine. The reasons why I had to leave were relegated to a blurry spot in the back of my mind.

  She patted my arm. “Sit up.”

  “What?”

  “Sit up facing away from me.”

  Did she give me an order? “Why?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re not very good at taking orders, are you?”

  “That’s because I give the orders.”

  She nudged me. “Just do it. Please?” she added with a smile. That smile. That Mona Lisa smile. I’d do anything for that smile.

  I did as she asked, partly wondering if I would regret it. Perhaps she would stab me in my back now that I had it turned to her.

  She kneaded my shoulders, pleasurable pain spreading out from her hands. God, they’re stiff. So much tension in them.

  I let out a low growl. “Oh God, that’s exactly what I need.”

  “You’ve had a very bad day at work.”

  I didn’t reply. She’s too perceptive. Perhaps I should have guessed that by the sharp intensity of her eyes, those very eyes that first drew me in. I felt myself relaxing as her fingers worked my muscles.

  When she finished I grabbed her arm and pulled her down to sit next to me. Her shoulder was pressed against mine, this small touch comforting me. “You’re right,” I admitted. “It was a very bad day.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You don’t want to hear about it.”

  “I want to hear about the things that trouble you.”

  I wanted to tell her. I wanted to unload my day to her. Perhaps in sharing it with her, I could share the burden. “You really want to know?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay.” The knot of guilt still sat deep in my belly, a poisoned tree in a cursed garden. “I recently bought a company. It’s been a…challenging task. They’re more inefficient with their resources than I first thought. There’s a lot of ‘dead wood’ I have to get rid of.”

  Mick O’Connor’s crumpled face flashed in my mind. He had been the first that I had personally let go.

  “Mr. Blackwell, I’ve been with this company for twenty years. I don’t know anything else. Please, don’t do this.”

  I had done it anyway. I had done it with an icy façade, showing no hesitancy, no regret, knowing if I showed any weakness, they would attack it. I remained like marble as I reduced grown men to tears.

  Noriko squeezed my hand, pulling my mind back to the bedroom with her.

  “Today I had to fire some people.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “Two hundred employees lost their jobs today because of me. Two hundred families…” All their faces flashed in front of my mind, all still haunting me. I couldn’t get them to stop looking at me with their pleading, accusing eyes.

  “You said the company you bought was inefficient with resources?”

  “They would have gone under in less than six months if we hadn’t bought them out.”

  “How many employees are in that company?”

  “After the two hundred I let go today, only around two hundred left.”

  “So perhaps it’s not that you took away two hundred jobs today, but that you saved two hundred. You yourself said that the entire company would have gone under if you hadn’t bought them out.”

  I stared at her, feeling like she had flicked on a light switch, chasing these ghosts away. I didn’t ruin two hundred lives. I… “Saved two hundred… Do you really believe that?”

  “I do. But it’s more important that you believe it.”

  Something inside me shifted. Perhaps it wasn’t a shifting as much as it was an opening. Something inside me opened, just a crack.

  I brushed my fingers across her cheek and tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ears. “You are…so much more than I expected.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

  A demure, obliging bride. Now the mere idea made me uncomfortable. A nervous laugh escaped me. “I’m afraid to say.”

  “Afraid to say because you…think I might be insulted?”

  Dear God. I can’t hide from her.

  “Yes,” she had me admitting.

  Once again, I was filled with the need to be inside her. I grabbed her, pulling her across me to straddle my lap. I rocked my erection against her wetness. “You’ve seen through me again. How do you do that?”

  “You are easy to see.”

  I let out a curt laugh. “I should hope not,” I muttered.

  She smiled as she slid her tight, wet pussy down onto me with a small moan. “Drake, I like what I see.”

  Do you? Really? I wanted to ask. Her words filled my lungs with something lighter than air.

  We fuck again as we were, her straddled across me, her fingers alternating between grabbing my hair or gripping my shoulders like talons. For the first time in a long time I let a woman take control.

  She wasn’t just any woman.

  She was my wife.

  I let her find her rhythm. I let her control the pace. Let her slide her hips up and down my length as I leaned back on my hands, gripping the sheets so I wouldn’t grab her and force her movements.

  I fucking loved it.

  This time, as she moved me to orgasm, I didn’t possess her. She possessed me.

  Afterwards, she lay against my side, our skin damp, bodies like puzzle pieces, Noriko tracing my chest with her dainty finger. We didn’t speak. We didn’t have to. The sated silence was enough.

  I couldn’t believe I always left right after sex. This…this was even better. Well, maybe not better. Sex with her was fucking incredible. But this, lying with her like this, made my body loosen, my muscles relax. My mind slowed and something akin to bliss seeped into my
bones.

  Slow down. Spend time with someone you love. This was what Dr. Tao had meant.

  I flinched.

  Spend time with someone you love.

  Of course, Noriko noticed. “What is it?”

  I stared at her, her delicate eyebrows pulling down over her almond eyes, those spear-tipped irises that went straight through me and saw everything. Did she know what I had realized?

  That I loved her.

  Holy fuck. I loved my wife.

  “I love you,” I blurted out before I could stop it, those words like wild horses, desperate to run free.

  Shit. Had I really let those words out of my mouth? I was so new at this, I was like a bumbling fool. I had no shields, no strategies. I wasn’t prepared for her.

  She started, shock flashing across her face.

  Shock.

  “I…” her voice was quiet, “I don’t know what to say.”

  I shoved her away and leapt to my feet, grabbing my clothes and tugging them on.

  She sat up. I could feel her eyes following me around her room. “Drake, please don’t—”

  “I just remembered something. Important. Work.” I couldn’t even look at her. I practically ran out of her bedroom, shirt hanging over my arm, slamming the door shut behind me.

  I sagged against it. I couldn’t breathe.

  She didn’t say it back.

  She didn’t say it back.

  She didn’t love me.

  Panic clawed at my throat. Fix it. I had to fix it. How would I fix it?

  For the first time in my life, I don’t fucking know.

  Late that night, I was in my home office. I couldn’t sleep. I was trying to distract my whirring mind by looking over management reports, the black text blurring so I couldn’t read any of it.

  I heard a knock at my door. Loretta appeared with a small tray of steaming tea. “You weren’t in your bedroom. I assumed you were in here.”

  “Thanks, Loretta.”

  She walked in and placed the tray at my side. “You’re working late.”

  Trying to work. Trying to ignore the hole ripped across my heart that made it hard to breathe. I inhaled and exhaled. “Yes.”

  “Is…is everything alright?”

  Of course Loretta would notice. She practically raised me.

  I shrugged.

  She let out a sigh. “Oh, my dear boy, you work so hard. Try not to stay up too late, okay?” She patted my shoulder and turned to leave.

  “What does it mean, to love someone?”

  She turned back towards me and I caught the fleeting surprise in her eyes. “To…love someone?”

  “How do you love someone?”

  “Well,” she spoke slowly, her head tilting as she weighed up her words, “love is selfless. It means that their happiness means more to you than your own.”

  I frowned. “No, I mean, how do you make—” I stopped, cleared my throat, a knot suddenly developing. “Never mind.” I turned back to my desk, effectively dismissing her. “Forget I said anything.”

  She didn’t move.

  “You can go now,” I snapped.

  “You don’t have to go through everything alone, you know?”

  “Did you not hear me? Get out.” I glared at the innocent papers in front of me because I couldn’t stand to meet Loretta’s eyes. I didn’t want to see the pity on her face that was so clear in her tone. I didn’t want her to see the turmoil inside me that I wasn’t sure I could hide.

  By the grace of God, she left, the door clicking shut behind her.

  I sank into my chair, already berating myself for how I had treated her.

  What had I been about to ask?

  How do you make a woman love you?

  34

  ____________

  Noriko

  Drake loved me.

  Every time I thought of it, happiness bubbled up inside me.

  Until it burst and soured because underneath it was rotten guilt and bad seeds. Because he loved me and I would eventually have to leave him.

  When I did, it would destroy him.

  Dear God, how my heart ached at the thought. I didn’t want to hurt him; if only I could absorb the pain meant for him into my body. If only I could make him love me less…

  I couldn’t stay. I promised my papa. My papa needs me.

  So does Drake.

  I had hated him on sight. I cared nothing for what he thought. As a consequence, he was the first person I’d ever truly been myself in front of.

  If I had only been more vigilant. If I had given less of myself. Held back.

  But Drake was a magician. He had removed my shields with deft fingers, distracted me with his enchanted words, drawing all this feeling out of me like a line of vibrant handkerchiefs.

  I had to talk to him.

  And say what? I had no idea.

  A day went by and I didn’t see Drake. Not at dinner. Not afterwards. I stayed awake longer than usual, my ears pricked for his footsteps. But he never came home.

  Maybe he had a work emergency? Maybe he had a work trip he forgot to tell me about? He couldn’t be avoiding me, could he?

  Two nights and three days went by and he didn’t darken my door.

  “Loretta?” I asked her at breakfast the next morning. “Has Drake been away these last three days?”

  She looked a little confused. “No.”

  “Oh.”

  “He’s been coming home and taking dinner in his office down on the second floor. It’s probably a bad time at work.”

  “Right. Of course.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t about work. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had to do with the words that he said. And the words that I didn’t.

  I was still thinking about it that afternoon as I sat in a chair, staring out the window.

  The door banged open, making me jolt.

  Drake was standing in the doorway looking as beautiful as ever. An aching washed over me, making my stomach wring out warm pain. Now he was here and I had no idea what to say.

  He glared at me. “You’re coming out with me. You have ten minutes to change into something smart but comfortable.”

  I placed down my paintbrush. “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer. He spun on his heel and disappeared out the door. I hurried to my room to throw on a crisp knee-length skirt and a soft sleeveless blouse, sliding my feet into ballet flats.

  I hurried to the front of the house and found a limo waiting.

  I slid in—still not having gotten the hang of it—and Felipe shut the door behind me. Drake was already waiting in the limo. He sat opposite me against the far window, his elbow on the arm rest, staring with stormy eyes out the window.

  He didn’t look at me. Not even as the limo set off. Not even as I cleared my throat.

  “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” I tried.

  He said nothing. Only the deepening of his frown told me that he’d heard me.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Working.”

  Working. Right.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine.”

  Apparently one-word answers were all I was going to get out of him. I sank into my seat with a huff. We drove for what felt like forever, Drake staring out the window, me staring at Drake, oscillating between wanting to smack him for being so damn obstinate and feeling wretched because I knew that he was only acting this way because I’d hurt him.

  Finally we stopped and Felipe opened the door again. At that point I was fuming. I pulled myself out of the car first without looking back.

  I froze.

  We were at a private runway at a smaller airport, his private jet sitting there on the tarmac, a TSA official ready to stamp my passport which Drake, now out of the limo, pulled out of his pocket and handed over.

  Oh my God.

  He was sending me back.

  He wasn’t even going to wait the full year. He was sending me home.

  The b
ottom of my stomach dropped down to my feet.

  I should be happy that he was ending our contract. I’d get to keep the money for my father and return home a full eleven months early. Why did I feel like I was going to throw up? Why were my guts twisting into hollow, brittle vines?

  Drake led me by the elbow to the plane. I was so stunned at this turn of events, at my obvious dismissal, I didn’t protest.

  I didn’t even pack anything.

  Stupid girl, did you think he would let you take anything with you when he sent you away?

  I didn’t get to say goodbye to Loretta.

  “Get in,” he said, pushing me up the flight of steps.

  My shoe clanked against the first step and I thought I might faint, my breathing growing short and shallow. I couldn’t let him send me away. I turned towards him, my fingers clutching at his jacket lapels. “Drake, I’m sorry. Please, don’t send me away.”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  I blinked up at him, hope filling my chest. “You’re not sending me away?”

  His distant behavior. His coldness in the limo. We lived in the same house and I hadn’t seen him in three damn days. He’d been avoiding me, I was sure of it.

  He let out a snort. “Get in the plane, Noriko,” he said in a softer voice. He still managed to make it sound like a command.

  I was too confused to do anything else, so I obeyed.

  I stumbled up the stairs and found myself sitting in the same white leather chair that I sat in on my way here from Japan. Drake sat beside me and buckled himself in before reaching over me and buckling my belt around my waist. His fingers brushing at my legs, our first touch in days, sent waves of aching through me. I hadn’t just missed his touch. I’d missed…him.

  If he was coming with me, then…he couldn’t be sending me away. Right?

  “Where are we going?” I asked as the plane took off.

  Drake glanced over to me. “Breakfast.”

  We ate a silent dinner on the plane. At some point, I fell asleep in the huge bed at the back cabin of the plane after exhausting myself over trying to get any information out of Drake. He was a steel trap. No amount of chiding, begging, or probing would get him to reveal where we were going for “breakfast”.

  In my dreams, I sensed his eyes on me, watching over me. I felt his fingertips brushing my hair back off my face. I felt myself being lifted up by strong hands. I smelled Drake’s fresh cologne and I could have cried with happiness as I pushed my face into his chest, squeezing my eyes against the light. I felt us descend stairs and I was placed gently on a leather couch in the darkness of what I guessed to be another limo. Drake lifted my head and allowed me to use his thigh as a pillow. I mumbled happily and clutched his leg and let myself drift back to sleep.

 

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