That shut us up.
Even though Julian now asks me to marry him every morning in bed instead of on the phone, he still called or texted me throughout the day. And I knew it was the same of Q and Ace. Hell, I was pretty sure they made daily trips to Chase’s and Nick’s offices to work the edge off.
DeShawn smelled victory and a sexy smirk took over his face. “I rest my case, ladies. Now back to stretching.”
“Fine,” Quinn relented, “but just so you know, men are capable of driving women just as crazy as women do men.”
“Untrue,” he said.
Our debate was interrupted by footsteps coming down the stairs. We all stopped and looked back to see Kane strolling into the basement.
“What are you doing here?” Ace asked.
He rolled his eyes. “The guys got caught up in a meeting they couldn’t postpone, so Chase called me and asked me to come babysit.”
DeShawn’s laughter echoed throughout the entire room.
“Stop it!” Quinn snapped at him.
Kane stopped in his tracks. “Uh, what’d I miss?”
Avery stink-eyed DeShawn as she addressed Kane, “Kane, will you please tell DeShawn that loving a woman does not make a man crazy?”
Kane dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose and started mumbling.
“What’s that?” Avery asked.
I gave up on the stretching and crossed my arms over my chest. “The bastard’s reciting The Lord’s Prayer,” I told her.
The asshole.
Chapter 16
Wrath: Because no man will control me.
Isabella~
I was just finishing up washing my hands when the shouting sound of my named reached my ears. “Isabella!”
I rushed towards the office to see what was wrong, when I was stopped short by a very pissed off looking Julian standing next to my desk.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, breathlessly.
He twirled my laptop around and the force of it caused the computer to spin around continuously before it settled to a stop.
I hadn’t exited out of my browser.
Shit!
“Julian…”
“Don’t ‘Julian’ me, Isabella. Why in the fuck are you researching that shit?” he fumed.
When we had woken up this morning and Julian went to make breakfast, I had went into our office and pulled up Myelodysplastic Syndrome on my laptop. Logan had been my mind a lot this week and, by extension, my father and curiosity got the better of me.
I had left my laptop open when Julian had called me to go eat and I hadn’t given it much thought afterwards. I had washed the dishes and went to go pee without even thinking anything of it.
I stepped farther into the office. I shrugged my shoulder. “I was curious.”
Julian crossed his massive arms over his hard chest. “All of the sudden you’re curious about something that you want no part of or does this have to do with your brother’s little visit?”
“Juli-”
His usually loving hazel eyes narrowed. “I’m warning you now, Isabella, if Logan’s motive for reaching out to you is for Elliot, and not because he genuinely wants to get to know you, I will fuck him up.”
“Julian!”
Julian stalked me until my back was pressed up against the wall. He planted his hands on either side of my head. “Listen to me and listen well, Isabella. There is no way in hell you are putting yourself at risk with any medical procedures to help out that sorry sonofabitch father of yours. Period. If Logan Stanhope wants to form a relationship with you, it better be independent of anything having to do with your father.” He pushed his body back dropping his arms at his side before adding, “This isn’t up for discussion.”
Years of watching my mother’s every move revolve around my father had me snapping back. “You are not my husband, Julian. You don’t get to tell me what to do!”
Julian took two steps back and I could actually feel the frost radiating off him. His face was devoid of any emotion and he held himself deathly still. The only sign of life was the rise and fall of his chest. He lifted his chin and asked, “Would you care to repeat that?”
My voice lost some of its force, but my words were still true. “You’re not my husband. You can’t order me around, Julian.”
His head bowed once. “You’re right. I’m not your husband. Nor am I your father, brother, uncle or cousin. So, what exactly am I, then? What am I to you, Isabella?”
The stillness in his voice was making me painfully nervous. I didn’t know how to answer him. I didn’t know what the right answer was. I felt like his question was a trap of some sort. I felt like my answer held the key to something important. “You’re my b…boyfriend,” I finally answered.
God, boyfriend, really?
Calling Julian just my boyfriend felt wrong.
That word felt so insignificant the second it left my lips.
“I’m your boyfriend?” he asked.
I nodded. I didn’t want to say the word again because it sounded stupid. It was a stupid word to describe what Julian was to me.
Julian stepped back until his legs hit my desk. He sat down on the edge of the desk and I could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge with his hands. I’m surprised the wood didn’t splinter from the force of his hold. His voice was all icicles when he said, “So, as to clear up any future confusion, why don’t you tell me what I’m allowed to do, then. You know…as your boyfriend.”
The punch to my chest felt real. The hollowness felt real. “Wh…what do you mean?” I asked.
Julian cocked his head, studying me like he was seeing me for the first time and didn’t understand who I was. “Well, I’m not allowed to support you. I’m not allowed to protect you. I’m not allowed to tell you what to do. So, what exactly does this boyfriend role entail?”
I could feel the tingle starting in my nose. I could feel the pressure behind my eyes. This was wrong. There was something so very wrong with all of this. He did support me. He did protect me. He did everything. “You do support me and protect me,” I whispered.
He smirked and it was ugly.
This wasn’t my Julian.
This was the Julian I hadn’t met yet.
“See, that’s where you’re mistaken, Isabella,” he responded. “If I supported you like I can and should, you’d have no bills, a brand new car and your name would be on all my bank accounts and everything I own. But you refuse to benefit from my money, other than to live in a house that’s paid for. If I protected you like I can and should, you’d not only have a driver, but you’d have a bodyguard with you when I couldn’t be around. At least, until Flower Guy was taken care of. So, no, I don’t see how the boyfriend role allows me to support or protect you.”
My mouth was dry of all spit.
“So, in addition to not being allowed to support or protect you, I’m, also, not allowed to dictate anything to you,” he continued. “And since you clean and do laundry to offset my cooking, it looks like my boyfriend role only permits me to fuck you. That about right?”
I had to swallow down the bile that threatened to rise.
I slapped away the tear that escaped. “No,” I mouthed, my voice not working.
His face was still emotionless and his voice still held no warmth. “Then tell me, Isabella, what all do you allow me to do, besides feed you and fuck you.”
I couldn’t help but flinch. His words were cold, cruel and horrible.
He took care of me. He loved me. He…he…we didn’t just fuck. We…
I took too long to answer, because he let out a cold, cruel laugh. “That’s what I thought.” Julian stood up and pulling his shoulders back, looked down at me. “It’s okay, Isabella, you don’t have to answer. You don’t have to say anything. If all you want from me are home cooked meals and a stiff dick, I’m all yours, baby. I’ll be whatever you need me to be, as long as you still come home to me.” He walked out of the office and my legs gave out.
The tears started flowing and I struggled to connect with the Julian that just walked out the door. He couldn’t really believe that all he as to me was…was…
He couldn’t.
Our relationship is not just screwing and a few meals together. It was…
There aren’t any words for what we feel for each other. I just…I was not going to let a man control me. Letting a man begin to tell you what to do was a slippery slope. If you’re not careful, you can start to lose yourself to him and then what?
You spend your entire life hoping he leaves his wife and children for you.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew I wasn’t my mother and I knew Julian wasn’t my father, but did I want to chance it? Hell, no. If I thought my mother was damaged from what my father did to her, I’d have to be committed if Julian ever walked away from me and left me without my own identity.
But that didn’t mean what we had was trivial. And I wasn’t going to let him turn it into something that was less than what it was.
I wiped my face of the tears and went in search of him. If this was a fight, then we were going to fight. He didn’t get to say those awful things to me and then walk out.
I should be able to choose to help my father if that’s the direction my conscience decided to go. And I should be able to make that choice without any guilt from Julian.
And how would you feel if Julian said he wanted to go back to Oakland and start over with his mother? The annoying voice in my head asked.
That question stopped me just outside our bedroom. How would I feel about that? Knowing how much damage that woman caused him and how much pain he endured at her hands, would I want him to rebuild a relationship with her? Would I want him around all that evil when he’s come so far?
The answer was easy.
No.
I wouldn’t want him around anyone capable of causing him so much harm as a child. I wouldn’t want him around someone who didn’t love him enough to see how special he was and is.
I felt wretched.
I pushed the bedroom door open to find Julian pacing the carpet. At least he hadn’t headed downstairs, so that was something.
“Julian…”
“Not now, Isabella,” he bit out.
Isabella.
He hadn’t called me Dove since he saw my laptop.
That hurt. Deeply.
I braved through the hurt. “We’re not letting this discussion end li-”
He stopped and glowered at me. “Discussion? Is that what that was? I thought that was you pulling my strings, again.”
His words were like a kick in the gut and a slap in the face. He felt like I was playing him. How humiliating was it for a man like Julian to feel like his love was now a weakness instead of a strength?
“Julian, we need-”
He shook his head. “We don’t need to do shit, Isabella. Apparently, all I need to do is wait patiently, wagging my tail, until you yank on my collar to get me to go where you fucking want me.”
I was shaken by his words. “That’s not true!” He tried to step around me, but I blocked him shouting at him again, “That is not true!”
“Isabella, get the fuck out of my way before I…”
I squared my shoulders. “Before you what?”
He leaned down until his eyes bore into mine. “Before I forget that you call the shots in this relationship.”
Julian~
I couldn’t stop the growl that emitted from my throat.
We were in the middle of a fucked up argument and all thought went straight to how Isabella’s eyes dilated with lust when I threw that threat at her.
Jesus, this was so jacked up. We were so jacked up.
I didn’t want to control Isabella. This wasn’t about telling her what to do. This was about fear, pure and simple.
No medical procedures were guaranteed and the thought of her risking her life for Elliot Stanhope had my blood boiling. He didn’t deserve her sacrifice. And if she was going to risk leaving my life, it was not going to be for someone who didn’t deserve it.
All I wanted to do was take care of this woman, and all she wants is for me not to, and it was fucking me up. Each time she refused my money, my protection or my guidance felt like a razor blade to my balls. She quietly emasculates me every time she ‘can do it herself’ and I really didn’t know now much longer I could take it.
My only purpose in life since I’ve met Isabella was to put her happiness above mine and everyone else’s on the planet, but she was slowly turning me into a fucking pussy with her shit.
What she failed to realize was that I completely understood her need for independence. I really did. But what she didn’t realize was that, unless she planned to buy Maseratis and 17 carat diamonds every random Thursday, using my money wouldn’t make her dependent on it. She didn’t realize that having a bodyguard only limited people’s access to her, it wouldn’t prevent her from going or doing whatever the hell she wanted. She didn’t realize my love for her was meant to set her free, not hold her captive.
God, I was so pissed.
“I’m going downst-”
“No. You are not going downstairs, Julian. You’re going to stay right here and talk to me,” she demanded.
I grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her up against the wall. “What more would you like for me to say?” I asked without any inflection in my voice, whatsoever.
Her eyes were wide and shiny. “Don’t do that,” she hissed. “Don’t act like you’re nothing more than a puppet to me.”
“Aren’t I, though?” I asked, coldly.
“No!”
I grabbed her neck and ran my hand down her chest until I enclosed one of her heavy tits with it. I leaned down so my lips kissed the shell of her ear. “Pull the strings, Isabella. I dare you. Pull the string connected to my dick. Pull it so I can fuck you into submission.”
Her voice was all splintered glass and yearning, “You’re not my puppet…”
I pressed against her body so she could feel how hard my cock was for her. “Are you sure about that, Isabella? Because if you call, I never fail to come running for whatever it is you need me for.”
Tears were streaming down her perfect face. “That’s not being a puppet,” she argued. “That’s just taking care of what’s yours.”
I pinched her hardened nipple through her tank top and she gasped. Isabella was still in her lazy Saturday morning sleepwear. “Are you mine?” I asked.
She let out a soft whimper, “Yes.” I grabbed the back of her neck with my left hand and slammed my mouth down on hers and she immediately opened up for me.
I knew sex wasn’t the mature or healthy way to settle an argument, but I wanted in Isabella’s tight pussy more than I wanted to continue fighting with her. I needed to reconnect with her. Every time she throws it in my face that I’m not her husband, ice forms around my soul. It feels like I need to distance myself before I do some irreversible. But it’s never long before I need that bond again.
I moved my hand from her tit until it disappeared into the elastic of her shorts and panties. My fingers were soaked the second they slipped between her smooth, plumped pussy lips. Isabella broke off the kiss. “Tell me how you want me, Julian,” she cried.
And because I was still pissed, I told her exactly how I wanted her. I twisted a handful of her hair in my fist and pulled until her eyes met mine. “I want you covered in hundred dollar bills from my bank accounts. I want you protected by an army of guards. I want you wearing a wedding ring so big, you can’t lift your fucking hand. I want you pregnant with my kid. I want my name tattooed on the inside of your thighs.” I tugged on her hair even tighter. “That’s how I fucking want you, Isabella.”
Her pussy clamped down on my fingers and the next thing I knew, my hand was dripping in her juices. I loved how my harsh honesty always made Isabella wet and desperate. “Oh, God, Julian,” she moaned as she closed eyes in pleasure.
I added a third finger to the two I was a
lready finger fucking her with. Her hands latched onto my forearms and I could feel her nails sinking into my skin.
I hope she drew blood.
That’s the kind of mood I was in. I wanted to fuck her until one of us or the both of us were bleeding from it. It was sick, but I loved marking her any way I could.
I untangled my hand from her hair and pulled the other one from her hot pussy. I yanked her shorts and panties down her legs and had my dick already out of my sweats before I even stood up completely. The dark part of me wanted to push Isabella to her knees and make her choke on my cock, but using her like a slut when she was begging for it was different than using her like one when I was pissed. No matter how dirty Isabella liked to be fucked, I wouldn’t let the demons in me take advantage of her tastes in bed.
Instead, I grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her until she was positioned over my dick and rammed inside her before she could get her bearings.
Her scream was like music to my ears. Soothing and invigorating at the same time. And, no matter how wet she was, sinking inside her was always a tight fit. Her pussy and ass never failed to grip my cock in a choke hold.
I started slamming into her hard enough that the pictures on the bedroom wall shook with each thrust. Isabella had her arms wrapped around my neck as she tried to hold on through the abuse. My fingers dug into her thick thighs as I forced her to take every inch of dick I had.
I couldn’t wait to kiss the bruises.
Fuck, I should have thrown her on the bed and lick her slit until my face was soaked with her release. However, it was a Saturday morning, so there wasn’t anything stopping me from keeping her naked all day long.
I kept crashing into her body and I knew it wasn’t going to take much more to make detonate around me. And with each pulse of her body and every scrape of her nails, I wasn’t going to be far behind. “Come for me, Isabella. Show me I’m at least getting this part right,” I insisted.
Her arms tightened around me and she sobbed, “Julian, please. There’s no one better than you,” she promised. “There’s only you.”
Claiming Isabella Page 19
