Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
LAYA
O wen ordered us breakfast, then we washed up and packed our few belongings. My entire body shook as we made our way to his SUV in the underground parking lot, and I finally relaxed into the passenger seat when he leaned over, strapped me in, and closed the door, securing us inside.
Romero drifted off to sleep when we hit the highway while I spent the first hour staring out of the window, doing my best to avoid any conversation about my nightmare last night and Owen talking about us having a future together. My cheeks heat thinking about it.
When my stomach cramps a little, I wince, hoping and praying I can make it home before I need to use the restroom. Wherever home will be.
“My place is just over half an hour away.”
I snap out of my daze and glance around at our surroundings, the area familiar, yet we’re not heading toward the city center.
“It is?” I turn to face Owen, knowing he lives in an apartment in the city, or he used to.
“I bought us a house.”
I blink. Then I blink again. Did he just say he bought us a house?
“Baby girl, you look adorable with your mouth open. Makes me want to stuff it with my thick cock until you choke.” My mouth drops open wider, then I replay his words in my head and snap it shut. Then he throws his head back on a deep chuckle and his bright-blue eyes dance with mirth before he brings his eyes back on the road.
“Owen?”
“Hmm?”
Trepidation fills my tone, and he doesn’t miss it, as his spine straightens and his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “About last night…”
His gaze slides to mine, and his jaw sharpens, then he stares ahead again. “Whatever you’re planning on saying, save it. Ain’t gonna like it, so don’t bother. But just know I’m going to hunt those pieces of shit down and make them pay for putting you through that.” My heart stills. There’s no way I want him to get involved. I don’t want him to get hurt. I need him; we both do.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He takes hold of my hand and brings my fingers to his lips, and my eyes fill with tears. “I promise you I won’t.”
I try to pull my hand from his, but he refuses to let go, his sharp eyes drilling into me to comply, and I finally relax, allowing him the control he wants and needs. “Do as you’re fucking told. Your ass is already begging to be spanked because of how much you keep sassing me.” He winks at me, the confidence oozing from him as his gaze trails down my body, no doubt taking in the redness flushing up my cheeks and over my ears.
The next words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. “Is that what you’re into?”
He licks his lips, then darts his eyes back toward the road. The veins in his arms contract, and I wonder if he’s irritated by my question or if he’s feeling vulnerable. His Adam’s apple works, then he glances toward me. “You know I’ve done spanking, Laya. Don’t act dumb.” He’s referring to the times I’ve witnessed him with other women, the times jealousy flooded my veins like a disease. He clears his throat. “I just don’t want to hurt you, like last time.” The vulnerability in his tone has my heart clenching.
I nod, remembering the way he pulled away from me when he choked me. But it felt right, really fucking right. So right, my morals went out the window in a split second, because what I want is so much more than him saying it. I want to feel it deep inside, every spank and his hands around my throat, his cock buried to the hilt; I want it all.
“It felt right,” I mutter, and his shoulders relax. When his eyes meet mine, they’re full of lust, making my cheeks burn brighter, then his gaze wanders leisurely over my body to my exposed legs.
I’m only wearing his T-shirt, and he knows I’m without panties.
“So fucking right,” he repeats with a feral gleam in his bright-blue eyes, as if liking my response.
He glances in the rearview mirror at Romero, looks back to me, then kisses my fingers again. “Gonna make everything all right, baby girl.” His words are full of promise, but even more, they’re full of intrigue, and as much as I want to delve deeper and ask those questions, I don’t think I’m ready. I’m not sure I ever will be. So instead of pushing further, I sink back into my seat and close my eyes.
The last words he whispers make me wonder if I’m dreaming already.
“Gonna make you my wife.”