Chapter 26
The Plum Taupe paint looked amazing in the apartment. Blythe left a couple of the walls white and made the painted walls an accent. She was a damn good decorator, designer, paint-picker-outer…and none of it had to be approved by anyone but her. It felt good. It felt like freedom. It felt like nothing she’d ever felt before.
She wondered what else she was good at that she’d never been allowed to explore? Her parents kept her under wraps and let her off their leash in certain areas but not many. She loved her car, she loved her music… It was funny, she let the people closest to her have control to a certain degree, but when they went too far, she stood up and did whatever the hell she wanted anyway. She was proud of herself—proud she disobeyed and chose to not go to college. Proud she left Max and his unrealistic expectations of her.
Blythe exhaled the deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She couldn’t wait to have this place perfected and finished…but was okay letting the process take a little longer. She was savoring it. At first, she was determined to be out of Justin’s house and living in the apartment; but as the days progressed, she didn’t mind as much.
Sharing an apartment with Jenny meant they shared furniture and even went halfsies on kitchen items, like pots and pans. She had a queen bed back in Chicago, but told Jenny to just let whoever moved in use it. Once Justin finished the plumbing, and a few extras with the electric, and they got it inspected—she would need to buy basically everything else to fill the place up. It was exciting thinking about a fresh start, everything new and untainted.
She cleaned up her mess, put the lid back on the paint, and threw the roller sponge away. It was getting late, and she wanted to make dinner before Justin came home. She enjoyed cooking for them both. It was fun. It was how she’d imagined her life with Max before everything blew up. She knew this wasn’t real and she was only Justin’s girlfriend in a temporary setting, but it was nice to pretend for a moment that she was his wife.
Wife…
That word, even uttered in her own thoughts, sent cortisol dumping from her head to her toes. She knew why—it was because Max called her that the night she found out who he really was. Somehow it had become a traumatic word, and that was exactly why she couldn’t give herself to Justin fully. Even though she knew how badly he wanted her. She freaking wanted him, too! But she’d just come off of that twisty slide, and she had to take things slow.
She exited the unfinished apartment and started down the outside steps. When she got to the bottom, she saw a light coming from inside the shop. When did he get back? She must’ve been so enthralled in her work that she didn’t hear his truck pull in the drive. She peeked through the side window and waved at Justin, then turned the knob on the main door that led into his work space.
Justin put his things down and strode toward her. They nearly collided as he reached out to push the loose hair from her face. “I see you’ve been painting up there.” His tone was playful, and she swatted his hand away.
“How do you know I’ve been painting?” She laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Because you have paint here…” He brushed a finger over her nose. “Here…” Over her cheek. “And here.” His thumb wiped her chin, and he bent down to place a kiss on her lips.
“What are you up to?” Blythe looked over his shoulder to see what he was working on. There was a pile of flat steel rods on a bench, and the fire in the forge was burning bright.
“I just have a few more shoes to make. They’ll be standard. Once we go to the fittings, we’ll adjust them as needed.”
It amazed Blythe that he could create something like a horseshoe from nothing. It was pure artistry, and she would never be convinced otherwise. She reached around him to pat his rear and tell him she’d see him back in the house, but his hand caught hers.
“Did I say you could touch this?” His side smirk was showing teeth this time.
“Excuse me?” she huffed out, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“Remember when I told you all you had to do was ask?” The mischief in his eyes was drowning her.
“Say it…” His head bent down, his nose almost touching hers. “Say… please, can I touch this ?”
“Oh, my hell! Justin Forge, stop it!”
“I will not… Ask nicely, sugar.” His voice was low and dripping with not-so-subtle innuendo.
Blythe glared at him, her eyes narrowing. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll just have to teach you a lesson in good manners.” With that, Justin hooked his arms under her knees and hauled her up. He walked them back toward the outside wall, and Blythe felt her back crash into it, his entire body hard up against hers. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to make her gasp.
With one hand, Justin moved his fingers over his belt buckle, unfastening it with total finesse. In one big swoop, he dragged the leather through each loop and wrapped it around his fist. With her back against the wall, he could use both hands. Clutching her wrist from behind his neck, he gently slammed her arm above her head.
“Ever hear the phrase— Fuck around and find out ?” His look was teasing, yet the intensity she could see there was dead serious. Her opposite hand dropped to her side, and he reached down, picking it up and pinning it next to the other.
“Do you like this, sugar? Being pinned against this wall, arms above your head, legs wrapped around my hips?” His chin cocked to one side, his eyes dark—still burning through her—Blythe’s breathing was getting heavy. The shock of what was happening and the position she was in seemed to steal her words.
“How about when I do this?” In another swift movement, Justin unpinned her wrists with one hand and used his belt to tie them loosely with the other.
Her eyes were wide, the O of her mouth so large she could catch flies. Justin’s mouth hovered over hers, his tongue jutting out to softly trace her upper lip. Holy shit, whatever this was, it felt naughty and really freaking good.
He continued to trace her lips. When he’d gone the entire way around, he stopped—his fiery blue eyes falling to her chest, watching it move up and down like she’d just been chased by a wolf. Somehow, this didn’t feel so far off.
“Feel good, sugar?”
“Yes!” Her answer was barely a breath, but there was an exclamation mark at the end.
“Good.” Justin stepped back, letting her legs drop from around his waist. Her back slid quietly down the wall—her shoes landing on the concrete floor. He untied her wrists and started putting his belt back on.
“When you’re ready to ask nicely and politely—we can finish what we just started.” The wink he gave her as he turned and swaggered back to finish his work was cocky as hell.
She wanted to give him a sassy comeback, but everything running through her mind fell extremely short after what she’d just experienced. Who the hell did he think he was? His teasing had never gone that far. But if she was being honest—she wasn’t mad about it.