Be strong, Ariana, no matter how he looks, fight this shit,I told myself, because he wasn’t going to win.
No matter how fine his silhouette looked behind that glass, no matter how good that scent is, I was stronger than a wet pussy and a throbbing clit.
“Baby girl, why are you not talking right now? You would rather join me in here?” he asked, interrupting me from the internal battle my mind was having with my body that had mequiet. He let out a low chuckle, and the way he said it made it feel less like a question and more like a challenge, one my body was dangerously close to answering before my pride could catch up.
“No, I’m good out here.”
I answered him too quickly, like I was trying to outrun my own thoughts, because this wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. I wasn’t supposed to be standing in this man’s bathroom feeling my body react to him like the trial never happened, like a jury hadn’t just debated whether he took Josiah’s life or not. Even with that not guilty attached to his name, there was still a question sitting in my mind. I had only gone to court once, only long enough to answer the questions they asked me, and after that, I didn’t return. I didn’t hear all the evidence. I didn’t sit through any of the arguments on either side. All I knew was that the prosecution had to believe something real to put a murder charge on him, and that alone made me feel crazy for standing here lusting over this man like he couldn’t have been a convicted murderer.
When the water shut off, I knew he was about to step out, and I should have walked out of the bathroom right then, but my feet stayed planted because if I was being honest with myself, I wanted to see him. I wanted this view as badly as people travel to France to see the Eiffel fucking Tower.
The shower door opened, and Proctor stepped out, soaking wet with water sliding down his chest, pouring down to the mat underneath him.
“Can you hand me the towel over there in the warmer, please?”
“You can’t get it yourself?” I shot back, trying to keep my tone sharp so he wouldn’t hear the weakness in it.
He smirked and shook his head like I was the one tripping.
“Why is it every time I ask you to do something for me, you have a smart ass comeback? Just get the towel and treat me nicely like I treat you. I've been nice to your pretty ass since I met you. Well, besides snatching your ass up at the party that day.”
I rolled my eyes and walked over to the towel warmer because, unfortunately, he was right about being kind to me. When I opened the warmer, the heat brushed my face, and I grabbed the towel and handed it to him.
Proctor then took his time drying off, dragging the towel across his chest, over his stomach, up around his neck. When he turned around to close the shower door, that’s when I got a good view of the red scratches down his back, fresh enough to look still irritated, and just below the nape of his neck, there was a faint but obvious hickie. That shit infuriated me to say the least.
“So, you did fuck my friend,” I said before I could stop myself.
He glanced over his shoulder, towel low on his hips, eyes amused.
“What did you just say?”
“I see your back. You got scratches all over it, and there’s a hickey on your neck.”
He laughed, low and confident.
“Ari, you said your friend came home crying and throwing up, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then just know, if I fucked her, she would’ve come home smiling and singing, happy that she got dick from Big Proc. No woman has ever left me that sad. You should know that.”
The arrogance in his voice should have irritated me, but instead it sent a slow heat down my spine, and I hated that my body knew exactly what he meant. I stepped out of the bathroom before I said something else reckless and went into the small room that started this relationship between us.
“I see you found your way into our little room,” Proctor said, making his presence known with his deep voice and a mix of soap and a hint of cologne.
“Our little room?” I raised my brow at him.
“You must’ve had somebody staying here while you were gone. It’s spotless all over your house, and you haven’t been here for over a year.”
“Nobody stays in my spot but me. I had a maid come through and keep everything fresh for me in case I came home. She used to do Hawk and Cyn’s spot upstairs, too, before they moved to their bigger penthouse.”
Proctor sat down beside me, and he was close enough that I felt the heat from his body again, and his tone shifted slightly.
“So, when are we going to talk about the baby? Why do I have to keep asking you about something that belongs to me?”
“Proctor, there is nothing to talk about when it comes to the baby.”
“Are you at least going to let me test her to see if she's mine?”
