Chapter 16
Brennan Diamond
Unwilling to leave the bed with my baby doll tucked so comfortably against me, I notify work of our absences and text the police officer I spoke with outside Audrey’s apartment building. Due to the presence of an accelerant, they suspect arson but haven’t verified the source of the fire.
If we identify Ms. Baker on the security feed from Mr. Carter, then nothing will stop me from believing she started the fire last night.
I hug Audrey tighter.
She could’ve died. I was so close to losing her.
When she jolts awake and mumbles about being late for work, I tug her back against me and growl.
“I’m the boss, remember? Plus, I doubt you want to traipse through the office wearing my pajamas,” I murmur.
She gives a defeated sigh and snuggles closer.
“You’re right, I don’t.”
I hum my victory and nuzzle my face deeper into her hair.
“You’re all mine today, baby doll. Let me spoil you.”
“You already are,” she mumbles.
I gather her hair into my fist, pull her head back, and rub my nose back and forth against hers.
“Not nearly enough. I dare you to try and max out my black card.”
She scowls. I take her mouth in a slow, drugging kiss, not pulling away until she chases me, and trail my fingertips along her jaw as she stares at my lips with longing.
“Or we can just do this all day?” I challenge.
Her scowl returns.
“You’re an ass,” she hisses.
I quirk a brow.
She sighs.
“Fine. Bet. Watch me spend worse than that bitch from the jewelry store,” she hisses.
I chuckle in amusement and enjoy the rest of the day as she makes good on her promise. A new cell phone, tablet, chargers, beauty products, shoes, suits, casual clothes, briefcases, bags, even replacements for her beloved drink carriers—she uses my card for it all.
Despite her best efforts, her purchases don’t come close to making a dent in my fortune.
I play the chivalrous partner and sit in waiting room after waiting room, giving her space in the changing rooms even though I long to join her, knowing I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself if she stripped in front of me.
When we return to the penthouse after dinner, I tease her about her lack of spending, but she merely shrugs.
Realizing I pushed her too hard, I usher her into bed, plug in the heating pad, and curl her around me.
Tuesday serves an unprecedented level of havoc as several projects go sideways. We launch into an overly busy workweek.
Despite the long, grueling days, peace hums in my soul knowing my baby doll will be by my side at night.
Audrey does what no designer could ever do; she turns my penthouse into a home.
With her scent permeating my sheets, her clothes hanging beside mine in the closet, and her products lining my bathroom shelves, she adds the perfect feminine touches to my previously cold, sterile life.
When Friday evening rolls around and she no longer looks drained and withdrawn, I drag her away from work early and drive to the upscale boutique my research indicated was best.
I toss the keys to the valet and retrieve Audrey before parading her inside, speaking with the woman behind the counter, and ushering my unwitting prey into the largest changing room.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I have things to try on as well, baby doll, so unless you want to be here all night—”
“Fine, but you stay on that side of the partition,” she demands.
I agree and enjoy the emotions flitting over her features as the attendants roll rack after rack of dresses and suits into the room.
“I take it we’re here for things to wear to the charity ball this weekend?” she says.
“Yes, that and more. We’re not leaving until you choose at least seven dresses.”
“Why seven?!”
“So I can take you out every day of the week,” I respond.
She huffs, stomps over to the nearest rack, and searches the first item’s collar for a tag.
“You won’t find a price, love. That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and faces me.
“This goes toward me ‘maxing out,’” yes, she uses air quotes, “that card and I am not paying you back,” she demands.
I smirk, stalk across the room, and finger the gown in her hands.
“Seeing you in these dresses will be payment enough,” I confess.
Her pupils shrink, and her cheeks flush a pretty pink.
“Who says you’ll get to see?” she challenges.
I push an escaped tendril of hair back into her ponytail.
“Baby doll, I can always have the partition removed,” I warn.
With an impressive eye roll, she pushes my hand away and turns her attention to the rack of clothes.
Eager for the exclusive experience of watching her model the most sought after dresses in all of NYC, I cross back over the room and halfheartedly flip through the hangers on the men’s rack nearest the couch.
Audrey selects four gowns from the first rack and eyes the remaining dresses with dismay before disappearing behind the partition. The thin screen with oriental designs painted between the support allows enough light to pass through for me to enjoy her silhouette as she strips.
Pulsing at the base of my spine warns of my slipping control. I sit on the couch to hide my hard on and pour two glasses from the pitcher of iced lemon water on the side table.
Downing an entire glass of frigid water does nothing to cool my ardor, but I can’t tear my eyes from the screen.
My baby doll steps out from behind the partition and heads straight to the mirrors.
She’s gorgeous, but the thin line of her lips reveals she’s unimpressed.
“My soon-to-be bride deserves only the best. If you don’t like it, try the next one. Try them all. You’ll never have a spending limit, baby doll.”
She glances at me through the mirror before disappearing behind the partition again.
After trying on—and approving—the next two dresses, she relaxes into the experience, so I stand and select a suit from the rack.
I strip out of the top half of my suit and drape the material over the back of the couch. The cool air brushes over my naked chest. After sitting and taking off my shoes, I rise and remove my pants.
With my selected trousers halfway up my legs, Audrey huffs and stomps out from behind the partition.
My cock stiffens in my boxer briefs so quickly my head goes hollow at the sight of her clutching a strapless plunge sweetheart neckline dress to her breasts. The material gapes at her sides since the back isn’t zipped.
She jerks to a stop and roams hungry eyes over me. I pull my trousers up my thighs and onto my ass, but don’t dare adjust the front for fear of losing control.
I stalk across the room toward her. Her appreciative stare strokes my ego as nothing else ever has.
When she lifts glazed green orbs up at me, my balls clench.
I turn her around by her bare shoulders and bite back a groan at the view. The expanse of soft, freckled skin begs for me to touch and taste while the lace waistband of her panties hints at the treasure trove of feminine perfection hidden underneath.
I trail a fingertip along the top of the lace and struggle to breathe as her skin goosebumps in response. She aims vibrant emerald eyes over her shoulder at me.
Desire pounds through me. My cock tests the endurance of my underwear.
I pinch the zipper and drag my knuckles up her spine as I zip her dress.
“Thank you.”
Her breathy whisper nearly shatters my control. I turn her back around by her shoulders and cup her face.
“Anytime, baby doll.”
I can’t resist. The yearning in her gaze is too much.
Her soft, plump lips draw mine toward them, and I lose myself in her hot sweetness as she gives me everything.
My knees loosen at her open, honest response.
I pull her flush against my front and growl into her mouth as the diamonds sewn into her bodice scratch at my bare chest.
Cursing and thanking the thick tulle of her skirt, I fill my hand with her ass and press my hard dick against her softness.
When I lift my head, our ragged breathing washes over our glistening lips. The hunger in her sparkling green eyes sends a flood of magma to my balls. I drop my forehead to hers and groan.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you, baby doll?”
“I… I don’t want to stop,” she admits.
Her bravery astounds me.
Recalling her deadened stare after our run-in with Donald and her tears when I hugged her from behind in my kitchen, I shake my head, rolling my forehead along hers, and force myself to take a shuddering breath.
“I don’t want to scare you. I need you too much,” I murmur.
She worries her bottom lip before splaying her hands over my chest. I suck down a sharp breath as her smooth palms skim over my nipples.
“I need you, too, but I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this with all my stupid triggers.”
I wrap my digits around her throat from behind and force her chin higher.
“Don’t you dare insult yourself, love. You’ve protected yourself when I couldn’t.”
Her lashes brush against my cheek as she blinks.
“Sure, but—”
“No buts, unless it’s your butt. Goddamn, you’re perfect,” I growl as I squeeze her ass.
After a fortifying breath and basking in her lemony fragrance, I lift my head and loosen my hold on her.
“We can take it slow. I—”
She slips an arm around my side and digs her nails into my back while sliding the other into my hair.
“We have been taking it slow. I want more,” she demands.
I growl, pick her up by her ass, and carry her across the room. She wraps her legs around me and closes both fists in my hair. I sit on the couch with her straddling my lap and moan as she steals my breath with a soul-searing kiss. Wiggling closer, she tests my control.
I snarl and turn my face away before I give in and fuck her until we both forget our names.
Her skirt bunches around us like a gauzy cloud. She hums a note of displeasure and chases my mouth.
I drop my hands to the couch cushions and groan her name before it’s too late.
“I need to know what not to do,” I say.
She shudders at my guttural voice but leans back to study my expression.