17. Francesca #2
His stare pierced me from across the table.
His wineglass remained untouched in front of him as he looked at me, wearing an open button-up long-sleeved shirt over a black t-shirt.
That was as dressy as he liked to be. The only time I’d seen him dress fancier was at the wedding and the funeral we attended. “What are you thinking about?”
“How this is kinda our second date.”
He smirked. “Guess you’re right.”
“We went out one time, and then we were just together every day since.”
He gave a slow nod.
“It was so fast, but it felt like time had slowed down.”
“Because it’s right. It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to me.”
He could say the most romantic things without even trying. And the fact that he meant everything he said made it more meaningful.
“I never pictured myself settling down, but if I did, I assumed it would be a slow burn. See her for a while, keep it casual, and take my time before deciding whether she was worth everything I had to give up.” A little smirk moved across his face.
“But I looked at you one fucking time, and I was done. The second I heard you open your mouth, I knew I was fucked. And then I was locked in on the spot.”
“Yesterday, you mentioned us having kids…”
“Yeah.”
“I thought you needed time to think about that.”
“Are we having them right now?”
“Well, no.”
“Then that’s tomorrow’s problem,” he said. “We’ll figure it out when it’s time.”
“But you do want to have kids?”
“I want to give you what you want,” he said honestly. “You made it clear it’s a stipulation to be with you, so I’ll do it.”
“But I don’t want you to do it just because of me. I would want you to want it yourself.”
He shifted his weight forward, his elbows moving to the table.
“My mom didn’t plan on having me, but she loved me and did her best.” He gave a slight shrug.
“My childhood wasn’t great, but I never doubted she loved me and would do anything for me.
I say that because not everything has to be a fairy tale to work out.
Do I want kids?” He shook his head. “I think it’s a huge investment without a guaranteed payout.
You can do everything right, and your kid grows up to be an asshole.
There’s only so much in your control. On paper, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.
But on paper, this doesn’t make sense to me either.
” He looked at me. “Why would I give up my freedom to fuck whoever I want, whenever I want? Why would I marry a woman who could turn around and leave with half my assets? Why would I make my life more complicated by living it for someone besides myself? It’s a lot easier to quantify the risks because the good things about it are hard to explain.
But I have absolutely no doubt this is what I want.
So, maybe kids will be the same way. It doesn’t make sense to me right now, but maybe one day when I meet them, it’ll make sense then. ”
He could easily assuage my unease with his honesty. He never tried to manipulate me. Never tried to gaslight me.
“But we aren’t doing this anytime soon, right? Because I want it just to be us for a while.”
“No rush,” I said. “I want that too.”
“Good.” He grabbed his wineglass and took a drink. “How do you know you want kids?”
“I’ve always been close with my dad and brother…” The mention of them made me lose my train of thought when the burst of pain hit me. My family had meant everything to me, and within a split second, it was destroyed.
There was remorse in his eyes, like he regretted his question. “Forget I asked.”
I swallowed. “I hope that he comes around at some point. I find it hard to believe he can just cut me out of his life like that. I don’t care about the vineyard and the business—he can keep it. But I do want to be a family again…someday.”
“I personally think it’s pretty fucked up he took it away from you.
He granted you the title because he trusted your intelligence and your judgment, but the second you did something controversial, he suddenly didn’t trust your judgment.
He didn’t view you as an adult who can make her own decisions.
You immediately turned into property, into a puppet that was supposed to do only what he asked, and the second you didn’t, he revoked your privileges. I don’t respect that.”
I agreed with everything he said, but that wasn’t what bothered me about the situation. “It’s okay. I’m fine with it.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “He fired you and took away your home. How could he look you in the face and say that to you?”
“I think because he expected it to scare me. But it didn’t.”
He continued to stare at me.
“I told him he could take back everything because I didn’t need it. Not when I have a man who can take care of me just fine.”
Wolfe didn’t have a reaction to that right away.
His stare remained exactly the same as he let the words settle across his skin and absorb into his flesh.
I saw a small explosion behind his eyes, but not of rage—rather, something else entirely.
The boil turned into a simmer, and smoke from the fire dissipated on the wind.
A little smile moved on to his face, his eyes softening as he stared at me like I was all he could see. “Damn fucking right.”
Once we stepped into his bedroom, he was all over me.
Grabbed me hard and kissed me while he tugged at the dress he liked so much.
Found the zipper and pulled it down before he pushed the material off me, kissing my neck and squeezing my ass along the way.
He even issued a growl when he took off his shirt because that interruption was too much.
He dropped his bottoms and then threw me on the bed.
He moved over me and folded me like a pretzel with my head on the pillow as he wedged between my legs. He snaked his hand into my hair and grasped gently as he sank inside me, filling me with every inch of his dick just to remind me how big he was, as if I could ever forget.
At first, he fucked me like he wanted to make me his all over again. In the bed where he must have screwed an endless line of hookups and booty calls. I should be jealous or insecure about who’d been there before, but I knew I was the only woman who’d ever mattered to him.
He pounded into me hard until he filled me, not waiting for me to go first like he would normally.
But when he finished, he kept his hand tangled in the back of my hair, his dick still rock hard inside me.
Then he started to rock inside me gently, giving me the ideal length that made him pleasurable rather than painful, and he kissed me.
He was the only man who could fuck me one moment and then make love to me the next, who could switch from one high to another, who had the endurance and passion to make that possible.
He released me from my folded position in the midst of our lovemaking then hooked my legs around his waist. He started to rock with me, his eyes on me as he held himself up effortlessly, pinning me against the mattress and the pillow, covering me like shelter from a storm, doing all the work and maintaining an intimacy he could create with just a stare.
He didn’t say the words he’d only said to me once, but he showed the endearment in his expression, in the way he looked straight into my soul.