“I’ll never take what’s not freely given, princess. Remember that,” he declares, his words echoing in me with force.
I nod, feeling so small suddenly, knowing that despite it all, trust isn’t something I should be afraid of.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.
“Work and perhaps a call to my sister.”
“You need anything, fabrics, office stuff, you name it. Just ask Maria, she’ll get it for you.” I try to hide my surprise at his concerns.
“Actually, I'd love to have a place outside to showcase the clothes for my clients and hold meetings there, perhaps hire an intern,” I tell him, taking a confident tone.
He nods with a slight smile.
“What?” I arch my brow.
“Nothing, I’ll see what I can do,” he says, looking at his thumb on my wrist, a light pink color rose under it where he strokes my skin with his working man's hands. Sighing, he lets his hand fall and turns his back on me as if I had burnt him.
“Goodnight, princess,” he grunts in a low and soft tone.
I shift to my side, turning my back on him too, still processing our conversation.
“‘Night,” I whisper before closing my eyes.
Ares Malone, who are you?
Chapter 6
Ares
Rolling up my black sleeves after changing after a day of work, I look at myself in the foot-length mirror in our bedroom. I chose to wear an all-black outfit, as always, with my silver watch on my right wrist and my tattoos decorating my neck and hands. My appearance is never something I bother about. Black is easy to wear when you have blood on your hands.
Simple, effective, practical.
Yet, tonight I wanna make sure I look good.
It’s our first time hosting together since the wedding, and I wanna see her eyes light up like yesterday when I stroked her soft skin and almost had to punch a wall not to devour her.
When she told me she needed a place to meet clients, I bit back my grin ‘cause it felt good to know I had anticipated her needs. Providing for her feels like winning a fight after three rounds when you have nothing more left in you, but still, you get to show off your winning belt to your girl at the end.
Mia stayed in our bed last night. It felt good to have her body melting against mine all night, even though she didn’t realize she did it instinctively. As if she was looking for shelter during a storm. I kept her close, rubbing her back in slow circles and murmuring reassuring words I didn’t know I had in me when she shivered a few times. We hadn't talked about it this morning when I left for work, but something is changing in the air, and I can’t put my finger on it.
She’s still getting ready in our bathroom, the two sliding doors shut, leaving me with nothing but my dark and twistedimagination as a relief.Taking a look at my watch, I notice my sister and her husband are about to arrive.
“Mia, get in here. We’re gonna be late!” I shout.
“Not ready yet! I’ll be there when I’m done!” she shouts back, singing to the sound of trashy pop music she’s been blasting for an hour in here already. I look around and rub my forehead. Our room is a fucking mess. Books, knitting stuff and pencils are on the floor like she couldn’t decide what activity to do and chose all of them. There’s clothes everywhere, and I mean every-fucking-where. High heels spread on the floor, pearl necklaces on the back of the chair, her lipsticks are even on my bedside table and her colourful fucking tiny panties are thrown on the bed like confetti. Clenching my jaw at the chaos around me and the thought of her in those lacy things have me wanting to roar and straddle my bike just to blow off steam.
Don’t let her get under your skin.
I walk to the door, ready to go down without her. “And fold your fucking clothes, damn it !” I shout.
“You fold them!” She giggles.
Giggles.
FUCK. MY. LIFE.
Pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to gather myself, I notice a red dress in her dresser. Getting closer, I look at it. Thin straps, low cut, knee length. She’d look like a fucking bombshell in it, and I’d give anything to see that. Taking it from the hanger, I spread it in the middle of the bed, then walk to the sliding doors.
