Chapter 47
“Hear me out before you say no,” I begin, hoping she won’t interrupt much. “This situation has been awful, to say the very least?—”
“Yeah.”
“And I think you should get something out of it.”
Her brow lowers, almost like a curious frown. “Go on.”
“Dad doesn’t know you’ve been released, and to our knowledge, he doesn’t know who took you.”
“Do you want to call him or something?”
“I do. I really do. But I want to tell him the kidnappers are demanding four hundred K for your release.”
She laughs. “Wait, what?”
“It’s the perfect plan. He’ll unfreeze my account so I can withdraw the money, and I’ll just pay it to you, instead of Andre Moeller.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am deadly serious, June. You deserve that and more.”
“Yeah, I do, but?—”
“And he will definitely unfreeze my account for this if I tell him I’m going to the police and the press otherwise.”
She laughs, dragging her fingers through her hair. “You want to blackmail your own father?”
My jaw clenches. Can’t be helped. “It’s the least he deserves after all of this. This whole thing started with him. He should pay for what he’s done.”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “This is crazy, Anderson.”
“I might be crazy, but I’m not wrong.”
Her head bobs from side to side, like she’s considering it. “Okay, you’re not wrong. He deserves to pay for what he’s done, but?—
“Most importantly, you deserve to finally be paid. You’ve been through enough with my family.”
Her attention catches on that. “And after I get paid, what then?”
“Then you’re free of us.” Oh. Crap. I don’t want that. “If you want to be, I mean.”
“It’s an interesting proposition. I’ll have to fake being sick a while longer for work, though. Pretty sure your dad would get suspicious if I showed up at work before this was settled.”
“How? He doesn’t work there.”
“No, but he’s pretty well connected. If he wanted to keep an eye out for me, work is a good place to start, right?”
She has a point. “So, you take some time off. It’s good for you, and you’ve earned it.”
June smiles to herself. “I can’t think of another way to get paid soon.”
“That’s the spirit. Just remember—he’s earned this.” I grab my phone.
“Don’t do it just yet. I want a little more time to think about it.”
I nod and set it back on the coffee table in front of her couch. Her place is much cuter than I’d expected from her, considering she appears utilitarian. But her apartment has all sorts of homey touches. The coffee table has flowers carved into the edges. Her bedspread has a sort of lacy trim on it. The place is girly, but not over the top. I like it. It’s very June.
“Take all the time you need to think about it. That said, the sooner it’s done, the sooner this is over.”
She smirks. “You know, for someone who resents his father’s underhanded business dealings, you’re not exactly an angel, either.”
I laugh hard. “Never claimed to be an angel, June. And if I remember, you’re a bit of a little devil yourself.”
“I am a fine, upstanding woman who has never done anything sinful in her life,” she says with far too much seriousness to be serious. Then, she giggles a storm, and I want to kiss her so badly for the silliness of the moment. But I don’t. Can’t impose myself on her right now. Can’t …
Damn, I want her.
It’s funny. Every other woman I’ve been with made a big deal about everything. Their hair, their makeup. That’s the sort of woman I am expected to date. Someone to whom appearances were everything, because that’s how things are in my world.
But it’s never been that way with June, though. She doesn’t care that I have no product in my hair, or that I’m casually dressed in the same tee shirt and jeans I’ve been wearing. Or, if she does, she doesn’t bring it up. Maybe because we grew up together? I don’t know. But now, sitting across the couch from me in her pajamas with her curly hair loose and no makeup, she’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Someone screams, and I jolt.
Which sends her into another giggle fit. “It’s the movie, Anderson. It’s fine?—”
More deep breathing. “Sorry. I … I’ll clean up.” I grab the spent Chinese boxes and head for the kitchen. Explaining my reaction is not on the list of top twenty things I want to do, so staying in the kitchen is a valid choice. Once I toss the empties, I take a minute to lean on the counter and breathe.
“What’s wrong?”
I almost jump at her right then, but I’m okay. She’s here. She’s okay. Breathe.
When she places her hand on my back, it almost startles me. But then it feels nice. I’ve missed her touch. She quietly says, “You can tell me. If you want, I mean.”
“It’s the movie. I?—”
“If you don’t like horror, then why did you put it on?”
I explain, “Because everything in your watchlist is horror, so I figured that’s what you like. And it’s not that I don’t like it. The genre doesn’t bug me.”
“Then what is it?”
I turn to face her, because I need to see her face right now. “When you were taken, I couldn’t stop playing out scenarios in my mind of what was happening to you.” I pause, because I am not about to tell her what I am worried about. No point in putting those thoughts in her head. It’s bad enough that they are still in mine. Without getting into specifics, I go on. “Some of those scenarios involved screaming, and I just can’t deal with that right now.”
“Oh.” Then she darts out of the kitchen.
Not exactly the reaction I’d expected. I follow her out and find her digging through the couch cushions. “Where is that damned remote?”
It’s sitting on my side’s armrest, but I’m enjoying the sight of her bent over the couch too much to tell her. “You don’t have to turn it off. I just freaked out.”
“Yes, I do.” She keeps looking.
“It’s fine?—”
“It’s not,” she says firmly. “It’s?—”
I grab the remote and hand it to her. “Really, June. It’s okay. Just had a bad moment.”
She turns the TV to some music channel and looks up at me. “I don’t want to be the reason you have a bad moment, Anderson. And what you said … I understand what it’s like to have something bring you back to a bad moment. I prefer being the reason you have good ones.”
I swallow, hoping we’re on the same page about that. “You are.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the reason I have good moments. You’re the reason …” I’m not sure what to say. The words catch in my throat. “June, since the auction, you’re the reason I smile.”
Her eyes dip to my mouth and her voice softens. “I am?”
“I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since that night. It’s why I?—”
She hooks her hand behind my neck and pulls me down to her lips for a kiss. I’m surprised, and at first, I stiffen up. With everything she has been through, everything my father has put her through, I didn’t know if she’d ever want to see me again. Much less anything else. But this kiss gives me hope.
She started this. She doesn’t hate me.
It’s hard to believe that, especially now. I’ve caused her pain so many times, and with Dad’s involvement in her kidnapping, I couldn’t blame her if she had hated me forever. So, this kiss means everything to me.
June backs toward her couch, but pulls me along with her, not breaking the kiss until she lays down. But she clutches onto my shoulders to pull me down with her, coaxing me to lie on top of her. Once I do, she takes my face in her hands again and kisses me. It’s making me delirious.
I want this so much. But I cannot push her after what she’s gone through. Lying on top of her in the cradle of her thighs, I’m at war with my body. My sac aches, my cock throbs, and my heart? My heart drums rapid fire. I breathe her in during our kiss, reveling in her sweet scent. The unmistakable perfume of her body permeates my senses, and if I’m not careful, I’ll get lost in her.
Careful. Pull back.
I break the kiss, and her half-lidded eyes lift in concern. Clearing my throat, I tell her, “Let’s take this slow.”
“I am. My clothes are still on.”
I laugh and kiss her again, happy to know where her head is at. It’s been years since I’ve made out with someone on a couch. Seems so juvenile. But that’s a part of the fun, too. Like we’re two horny teenagers who can’t stop kissing.
I balance myself on my left hand, and with my right, I grope her over her shirt as a test. I have to know where this is going. When I cup her warm breast over her shirt, she moans and arches herself against my palm. There’s no hesitation in her at all, and that breaks the dam inside that’s held back my passion for June.
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