Chapter 6
Chapter Six
ARI
When I get out of the car, I have to gulp in fresh air. It was nearly impossible not to reach for her the second I put the car in park, but I had to control myself. Being in close proximity to her for that long was taking me to the edge of my control.
I’d consider myself easygoing, but my brothers would be quick to call me uptight.
I like order in things, and I don’t enjoy chaos in my daily life, although they don’t consider their lives chaotic.
After today, I think they’d both agree that this is one hundred percent outside of my comfort zone.
Sure, I’ve dated people in the past, but when I think back, I can't recall any of them right now. Never have I trapped a woman before, and now I’ve done it so thoroughly that I’ve got days with Sadie all to myself.
Visions of what I could get into during our time alone are anything but innocent or pure. It’s the image of her with legs spread and pussy dripping in invitation while I climb on top. It’s like I’ve already felt it, and my body aches to return to that paradise.
“What, no Batmobile?”
I sigh dramatically, and it makes her smile. “I’m sorry there’s no room for your scooter.”
“Hey, it’s got four wheels and there would be plenty of room if this garage wasn’t filled with all the things you use to compensate for your shortcomings.” She takes a quick glance at my crotch and then back up at me.
“What if I like my shorty cumming?” I reach out and touch her under the chin before I turn around and walk into the house. Half a beat passes before I hear Sadie’s feet hurry behind me.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You’re just trying to get in my head.”
“Head, panties, either one,” I mumble but she doesn’t hear me. When we get inside, I go to the kitchen and toss my keys on the counter. “Hungry?”
“Maybe.” She walks right over to the fridge and opens it up. “I’m guessing you eat out a lot?”
“It’s no fun cooking for one.” I take out my phone and place a quick order to be delivered.
“I’m going to have a look around.” She doesn’t wait for me to say a word; she just leaves me standing alone in the kitchen while she explores.
I’ve got the stupidest grin on my face as I slowly follow after her and listen as she comments on every room.
“A skylight? What is this, nineteen eighty-seven?
“No crown molding in the guest bath. I see you don’t mind cutting corners.”
Was this the only rug you found left by a dumpster?”
“You know nobody is going to mistake the color gray as cheerful.
“Of course your bed is the size of my entire apartment.”
“Is this indoor swimming pool up to code?”
“That’s my bathtub.” I lean against the doorframe of my bathroom and shake my head. God, if I wasn’t obsessed with her before now, I would be at the audacity she has to talk shit on my stuff. For some reason, I love it. “Any other observations?”
“Just that you have a lot of free time on your hands.”
“How can you tell?” This time when I smile I don’t try to hide it.
She pushes past me and opens my closet. “What kind of man organizes like this?”
“One who likes to be organized.”
“Your house is okay, I guess. I mean, if you have to live somewhere.” She waves her hand around and walks past me again.
Every time she does that, I want to reach out and grab her and pull her against my body. How does she not feel this tension between us? It’s so tight it’s like it’s going to snap at any moment, and I have to stand here and pretend it’s not driving me nuts.
“If you’re a slob, you can just say it,” I tease as I follow her out of my bedroom.
“I'm not admitting anything, but you should know that serial killers would be jealous of your setup.”
“Spent a lot of time with serial killers?”
“I’ve never met a true crime documentary I didn’t like.”
I can picture her curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn while the narrator describes a gruesome murder.
“And yet with all that knowledge, you still went to a second location with me. Tsk tsk, shorty.” She glares at me, but it’s adorable, and I use it as an excuse to touch her chin again.
An alert goes off on my phone, and I see someone’s at the gate.
“Have a hot date?” Sadie pretends to be causal about the question, but I see right through it.
“It’s your food. They had to send extra people to carry it all.”
“Nobody said kidnapping me would be cheap.”
“I’ll get the food, and we can eat in my office.” I go to walk out, and she calls after me.
“Your office? That wasn’t on the tour.”
“To the left. There’s a hidden door.”
I hear something about Bruce Wayne mumbled under her breath while I hit the button for the gate to open and let the driver in. After I’ve tipped him and gotten the bags, I come inside and swing by the kitchen to grab drinks.
By the time I’m finished, I find Sadie in the hallways on her hands and knees searching the baseboards for a way into my office.
“Not that I don't love the view, but it’s over here,” I say before I hit the discreet panel on the opposite wall, and the door next to me opens.
“Show-off.”
“Please, take your time.” I make a point to keep staring at her ass while she gets off the floor. Once she’s up, she raises her chin and walks by me in a huff. Once again, I follow her like a love-starved puppy.
She walks right over to my desk and starts opening drawers. I chuckle to myself as I go over to the table and place everything on it. While I set out the food, she snoops, and I’ve come to realize she likes being nosy.
“You’re low on Post-its,” is all she says when she’s had enough and takes a seat on the couch next to the food.
“Next time I’ll give you my password so you can order them for me.”
“Unless you’re willing to pay a secretary an engineer's salary, no thanks.”
“I would if she had your sparkling personality.” That earns me a little smile as she reaches for one of the Chinese containers and opens it.
“All right, we’re here. Now I want to see the goods.”
“Normally I don’t do that on the first date.”
She rolls her eyes as she digs her chopsticks into the noodles. “Sure you don’t, and I’m talking about my dad.”
“I know,” I say, reaching for my laptop. “But I’ve got a few questions first.”
“Okay?” she answers like a question, and I can see her walls going up.
“First, how much do you know about how your parents met?”