Has she ever been innocent, or did I imagine that to stay away? I swear I don’t know anymore. Cracking my neck, I call for control when I am one second away from ripping my zipper. She won’t test me with a mouthful of cock.
Vanilla ice cream rests in the corner of her mouth, and without thinking, I swipe it away, bringing the thumb to my mouth. From her lips, it tastes spectacular.
Her eyes widen, and a flush covers her cheeks.
“And you think you can take someone like me?” The words rush out of me, and instead of a shy look, a challenge sparks in her gaze.
She bends over the table as if she wants to tell me a secret. “I’m willing to bet that I most definitely can.”
My attempt at scaring her backfired.
Satisfied with my lack of reaction and speech, she continues to eat her strawberry ice cream with even more gusto, humming, so proud of herself.
By the time she’s done eating her ice cream, I almost come too.
I doubt celibacy will work out in the long run. Her presence threatens that a bit more every day. There’s no solution to fix my dilemma. She’s the only woman I want. There could never be another one.
On the way back, I think about when she’ll see her surprise, it will only encourage her to behave like a brat. I am screwed either way.
I can’t give her what she truly wants, what I truly want. I can compensate with material things that mean nothing but still put a smile on her face.
The car is also a display of her gaining more independence. I would rather unload a gun into my body than stop her from spreading her wings.
And maybe one day, this damn car will take her away from me and to someone else. At that thought, an ache spreads through my insides, and I rub at my chest, willing to make the heartache stop.
“Mika?” she asks, worry lacing her voice, attuned to me. Her concern undoes me.
A ripple of agony vibrates in my throat. “You’ll leave me one day.”
She palms my arm resting on the center console. “Then don’t make me. I want nothing more than to stay.” She shrugs as the solution is that easy.
But we’re both aware that the time when we were content with less is gone.
A typhoon is brewing above our heads, and I am certain desire will eradicate the foundation—not satisfied until it uproots everything and leaves only debris behind.
Driving down the driveway toward the main mansion, she notices the silver Porsche with a big red bow.
As I park, she whips her head to me before she runs out, squealing.
“This is the one I wanted.”
I know, baby girl.
I fucking know.
7
DAHLIA
The Porsche had piqued my interest the instant we went inside, but I knew it would be a no-go. So, I used all my negotiation tactics by hopping into one outrageous car after another. He had to pick the one he thought was least dangerous. Perks of knowing him, but also that he’s utterly weak when it comes to my wishes. Except one, apparently. But I won’t let that nagging thought disrupt my joyous win.
Ignoring the guards, I jump into his arms. Mika catches me with ease, his steel arms enveloping me in pure bliss. Home has always been here, with him. For a few moments, we’re trapped where nothing else exists but us—what a heavenly experience.
His silver eyes flash with adoration, inflating my heart to bursting. I brush my nose against his, and his fingers dig into my waist. How I wish he’d hold on to me and never let me go.
I catch his eyes lowering to my mouth, and I lick my bottom lip in half desire and half expectancy. Clarity sets in when I realize how exposed we are. I slide down and don’t let the impossibility of us sour my victory.
“I always get my way,” I sass.
