by Scott, S. L.
“Those were one-offs. You make me crave things I shouldn’t.”
“I think your body wants carbs.”
“My body wants you.” She leans against the island, her body language challenging. She may only come up to my chest, but she’s currently owning every inch of her height. Even adding a little with that raised chin of hers.
“And as much I like that, you can’t survive off sex.”
“We could try,” she replies optimistically.
Wow, she’s red hot this morning. “Did I leave you wanting last night? If I did, I’ll make it up to you.”
Wrapping her arms around me, she says, “No, but you can still make it up to me.”
“Right after breakfast.” I go to the fridge and open the door. Letting all the cold out despite my dad’s voice running through my head about air conditioning the entire neighborhood when I was young, I search for something a no carb eating, feisty, sex-craving beauty might want. There’s a limited selection since I’ve been gone, so I reach for the few things Singer brought for us and load them onto the island.
“Yogurt. Strawberries. Blueberries. Cheese. Pineapple cups. Eggs. Pick your poison.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she rests her hip against the marble counter. “Why are you so insistent I eat something when I’m not hungry?”
“Because I listened to your stomach growl all night. Because you haven’t eaten in close to sixteen hours.” Moving in, I pick her up by the hips and set her on the island before wedging between her legs and holding her by the ass. It has absolutely nothing to do with eating or feeding her, but just because I can, and I’m going to take full advantage of loving on this woman while I have the chance.
“Did you eat?”
“I ate a few hours ago.”
Her eyebrows rise. “How long have you been up?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, checking my watch. “Four hours, I suppose. I ate and worked out with my brothers. Ate again then showered and got dressed before Ethan and Singer came over.”
“You packed in a heck of a full day before ten. I must have slept hard. I didn’t hear a thing.”
“You got a good nap in on the plane too. Your body needs the rest.”
She toils with the foil lid of the yogurt but doesn’t open it. “If I eat this, can we go back to bed?”
“I have no problem with that compromise.”
“Can I ask you something and will you be one hundred percent honest with me?”
I rub her back, and say, “Absolutely.”
“How long can we be like this?”
“And by this, you mean what?”
“We’re hiding in this high rise like Paris didn’t happen.”
“We’re in my apartment because Paris did happen. We may need to perfect our ending, but we had a damn good start.”
She kisses me and then rests her forehead on my shoulder. “We sure did. You’ll stay with me when I talk to your security people?”
“I promised to protect you and to be there every step of the way, and I will.”
Holding my face close, she says, “Anytime I’m in your way, just tell me. I don’t want to be a burden, no matter how much I want to stay.”
“You want to stay?” I can’t hide the happiness that slips into my tone.
“If you want me to.”
“I very much want.” You.
“For a few days?”
I hate that she feels insecure. I need to do a better job of making her feel what I do. “Winter, I want you here so we can work through how we can protect you, and how we can make the threat against you go away. That’s the first goal. But I also want you here for me. Call me selfish, but I don’t want to contemplate the idea of you walking out that door and not being in my life. Just so you know, I want you here for more than a few days.”
I expect a quip of some sort to come from her beautiful mouth, but she’s strangely silent.
I’m not most men. I can handle her erupting moods and conflicting actions. I can handle the words she uses to stab others, wanting them to cut through the tension like a blade. I can handle anything she throws my way because underneath this defensive armor of hers, I still see the woman whose eyes light up from the sight of the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night. A woman who clasps her hands over her heart while admiring a statue of two kissing lovers. I see the woman who shared her darkest secret, the one that buries her under the memories and fell in love because she confided that secret to me.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen when she drops her weapons and trusts me. I see when her expression morphs. The cynical look in her eyes lightens in the blue centers, the pinch of her lips releases, and her chin lowers. The tension in her shoulders softens, and her stance isn’t so staunch.
I touch her cheek, and she lets me. “Will you trust me, Winter?”
Her eyes dip closed, and she licks her lips. When she looks up at me again, a swell of moisture fills the corners. “I do trust you. Already. That’s what scares me.”
“Don’t be scared. We’re in this together.”
“And then what?” she asks skeptically.
“And then we finally get to live and be whoever we want to be.”
“We, huh?”
I rub the side of her neck and then lower my hands to her hips, giving them a little wiggle and getting a giggle in return. “Did I overstep?”
“No. I like the sound of we.”
“Good.” I kiss her head, and then say, “I like the sound of you being here, especially that little snore you do.”
Feigned offense jolts her head back. “I do not snore.”
She pulls away, but I catch her wrist and bring her back in, this time dipping her. “Doesn’t matter. I like it. You know why?”
She can’t hide her smile, though I see her struggling to. “Why?”
“Because you have a great body.”
I’m punched in the chest. “I meant why do you like that I snore, you big goof?”
“Ohhhh.” I knew what she meant, but it’s great to hear her laughter. “Because it means you feel safe to sleep that deep.”
“It’s the bed.”
“Okay.” I kiss her. “It’s the bed and not me. Gotcha,” I tease with a wink.
As soon as I set her on her feet again, she’s off down the hall. “I’m getting dressed.”
“Your clothes were cleaned. They’re in the bathroom.” As much as I hate her walking away, she does a damn fine job of it.
But before she disappears completely, she turns back and sees me still standing there like a buffoon. She must feel sorry for me because she comes running into my arms, legs linked around me, and kisses me hard. When we stop to catch our breath, she says, “It’s not the bed. It’s you. Don’t ever think otherwise.”
Like a flower, she’s slowly opening for me petal by petal, and it’s a damn gorgeous sight to see.
21
Winter
My clothes are folded neatly in a pile on the counter. So neat that I wonder who washed and folded them. Does the giant have fairies and gnomes working for him? I wouldn’t be surprised.
This apartment.
His success.
Him.
It’s all a bit more overwhelming than I thought it would be when I was thinking about what I was doing on the plane. I’m still not sure if I made the right decision, though Bennett feels really right to me. But did I put us both in jeopardy by leaving Paris?
I don’t know what Kurt wants with Bennett or his brothers. Did my father, or I put him on Kurt’s radar? I’ll never forgive myself if I’m to blame. Hopefully, we can get the answers before anything else happens because I’m not sure how long Kurt will leave me be, and I’m not naïve enough to think he’ll just let the fact that I left go.
The cotton covering me comforts me. It’s tempting to wear Bennett’s clothes all day. There’s the faintest scent of him on them from the drawers where they’re kept. I hold the collar to my nose and take a deep inhale. My soul se
ttles as he fills my lungs.
Reaching for the pink panties he was so kind to bring back from Paris, I roll my eyes and then look at myself in the mirror. My lip looks fine, which surprises me. The bruise along my jaw isn’t huge, but it’s changing to a new shade of anger—purple. A shudder runs the length of my spine, but I take a quick staggered breath to tamp it down, not wanting to think about that night.
Bennett makes me smile.
I have no makeup on and my hair isn’t brushed, but the smile on my face . . . it’s happiness unrestrained. That’s what he’s given me, which is more than I’ve had in the last eighteen years.
I leave the panties where they are and walk out of the bathroom. “Bennett?”
“Yeah?” he calls from a distance.
I meander down the long hall, peeking in each room to see if I might find him in one, but I don’t. The handsome man is sitting at the table by the kitchen with a laptop in front of him working. He doesn’t look up, engrossed in what he’s reading. I pad across the floor until I’m across from him, breaking the concentration that carved lines in his forehead. “Hey, you didn’t change clothes.”
“No,” I reply, coming around and sitting on his lap when he leans back. Tucked in his arms, I rest my head on his shoulder. “I decided to live in my boyfriend’s clothes for my remaining days.” I shrink my neck, realizing what I said a second too late. Closing my eyes, I stay quiet and so still, hoping he didn’t hear me.
His mitt of a hand rubs my leg. I love watching him touch me like we’ve been together forever. “Boyfriend, huh?”
“I knew you couldn’t resist.” I get up but am pulled right back down.
“Like there was a doubt? I mean, just look at you.”
I’ve been called pretty before by old boyfriends, overheard my dad’s friend at my sweet sixteen party talking about how much I’d grown up, and even from Bennett, but that he acts like he’s the one who lucked out isn’t a concept I’m familiar with. “What about me?”
“You’re gorgeous, Winter. Everything about you is so beautiful. The way you laugh, your hair right now, and that mischievous grin you give when you have a good comeback. Your body is fucking amazing.”
“No carbs.”
“Yeah, so you say, but a little bread and a few happy pounds won’t turn me away.”
“Happy pounds? That’s good stuff right there.” The words and his hands on me. “Go on.” I kiss his cheek as he runs his hand over my hip.
“Your eyes tell the story of your past pain, but your lips kiss me like there’s no tomorrow.”
My cheeks heat as I look down, but in Bennett style, he won’t let me shy away even when it gets hot in the kitchen . . . or my face. Lifting my chin up, he pulls my gaze to his milk chocolate-y eyes. “I thought you were going to call me pretty, but you mentioned the other things you’re attracted to.”
“Those other things make up who you are. You are pretty—inside and out—but you’re so much more. It’s a disservice to the other senses if I only appreciate your beauty with my eyes.”
Too obvious if I just flail right here on his lap and then melt away? I tighten my arms around him and kiss his neck. “Bennett?” I whisper. “You make me want to eat pasta again.”
His laughter heals my soul in so many ways.
I lean back just enough to get the full view. It would be a shame if I didn’t. He was made to be admired and in more ways than just physically, but when I see his smile, he just about does me in. Again.
“I’ve never been a good judge of character until I met you,” I say.
He hums, pressing a kiss on me. His arms tighten around me, understanding I mean more than I’m saying, and then he looks into my eyes. “I won’t abuse your trust.” His deep and husky voice contradicts the sunny day shining through the windows but speaks to my core.
“I know we have a lot to talk about. It wasn’t to put it off but to keep you safe. I don’t know if I can, though.” Shame washes through me. “I couldn’t even keep myself safe.”
“If your life and mine are in danger like they were back in Paris, we need to know the details.”
“They aren’t pretty.” The irony of me using pretty again but not referring to beauty isn’t lost on me.
He runs his finger along my bottom lip and then kisses it. “I can handle it.”
“I’m afraid you won’t look at me the way you are right now.”
Lifting me up, he spreads his legs and brings me in. I’m not tremendously taller than him in this position, and he’s still sitting down, but it’s enough for his head to tilt back, giving me the advantage. “Look, Winter.” He sighs and rubs his hand over his jaw. “If people are trying to kill you, or me because I’m with you, then we’re in deep trouble. We all get involved in shit that wasn’t meant for us at one time or another, so don’t feel like you have to protect me from the truth. I can handle it, but more importantly, so can you.” He stands up and kisses my cheek. “Honesty is the only way we’re going to get through this.”
This is how it should be. This is what a healthy relationship looks like.
Working his way around me, he heads into the kitchen. He adds, “I’m abiding by the same rules. I just hope you look at me the same as you are right now.”
“In awe, but slightly cranky?”
“That’s hunger. I’m making you food.”
“And I’ll eat said food on one condition.”
With eggs on the counter, he grabs a bowl from a cabinet and then rests his palms next to them while eyeing me. “Lay it out for me, sweetheart.”
“I’m taking you up on your earlier offer. If I eat breakfast, I get you right after.”
“Scrambled or fried?”
“Over easy.”
Pulling a spatula from the drawer, he cocks an eyebrow. “Are we talking about eggs or sex?”
“Maybe both, but let’s start with the eggs.”
He eagerly cracks an egg into the pan. “You got it.”
I hop up on the counter and watch this man cook just for me, even seasoning the eggs in the pan. “No man has ever cooked for me before.”
“What about boyfriends?”
“Definitely not. What about you?”
Sneaking a peek over his shoulder, he chuckles. “I’ve never dated a guy, so no.”
This time, he has me laughing, and then he’s focused on me. I push him playfully away and then pull him back by the front of his shirt and straight into a kiss. “Are you burning my breakfast?”
Spinning and scooping up the spatula, he says, “Nope.” He gets a plate from the cabinet and serves it up. “Here you go.” Retrieving a fork from the drawer under where I’m sitting, he presents it to me. “Ma chérie.”
“Merci, monsieur.” I take a bite, but stop, to ask, “What?”
“I just like watching you eat.”
I inhale half and then say, “Little clouds of deliciousness. You’re a good cook, Everest.”
“I’m good at the basics.”
“Trust me. You’re better than good. You’re great.”
“You catch on quick. I find that so incredibly sexy. To keep my end of the bargain, I need to reply to a few emails while you eat. Set the dishes in the sink, and I’ll tackle them later.”
“When are we leaving for the inquisition?”
He sits down in front of his laptop again and laughs. “Funny.”
“That’s what you say now.”
He types something but then stops and looks back at me again. “Nothing you say—”
“Will be held against me?”
“I was going to say, be used against you. I’ve had you as a girlfriend for, what, a few hours? I’m not looking to ruin it that fast.”
Shaking a finger at him after setting the plate in the sink, I say, “That’s good. Play the long game when it comes to the breakup. Gives my heart some time to recover.”
“You’re full of the funnies today, Ms. Nobleman.” He tracks me while I walk along the wall of windows.
“I’m here to please.”
“You can’t say things like that when I have to work.”
Giggling, I keep my eyes on this amazing view. “Well, don’t work too hard. I have plans for you, including you being hard in all the right ways.” Bennett needs to get some stuff done, so I go back into the bedroom and open the curtains before slipping off the baggy clothes and going back to bed. Jet lag is a thing, and naps are glorious, so any excuse will do.
I try for sleep, but when I close my eyes, I can only see Kurt’s fist coming toward me. I hear the smack of his hand against my cheek and feel the pain erupt as if it just happened. I endure the punch to my ribs, the wicked snarl on his face, and struggle to breathe. How did I once fall for this man?
The bonus appearances of my father, often standing to the side doing nothing to stop the monster from hitting his daughter . . . A father is meant to be your hero, but mine would turn a blind eye or, worse, watch passively.
An expert could tell me what this nightmare means, but I already know.
My jaw starts to hurt, and I realize I’m clenching my teeth. Taking three deep breaths and slowly blowing out helps. I roll over, away from the window I thought would bring peace and pull the covers over my head.
* * *
As I float in that blissful state between sleep and wake, warmth cradles me in his arms and joy fills my soul. My back heats from the body holding me.
Safe.
Comfort.
Home.
My hair falls like a wave over my shoulder, tickling my back, as I’m roused by kisses in the crook of my neck. “Mmmmm.” I roll over, and my lips are kissed before my eyes open.
Gentle hands find my breasts and hardness against my hip. Kisses cover my chest, and a hungry pulse beats through my veins. When I finally open my eyes, what I see is better than any dream.
I run my hand through Bennett’s dark hair and let him ravage me. God, he feels amazing, too much at times, that I can’t hold still. Like now. I arch up, and when his eyes find mine, he smiles. “Don’t mind me,” he says, “I’m just earning my keep.”
Even freshly awoken, I can’t resist him—heart and humor—and laugh softly. “I will never mind you earning your keep, but I think it’s my turn to return the favor.”
