Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
CIDNEY
My night of sleep was nonexistent. I tossed and turned. I stared at the door and willed it to open. Willed that asshole to come into my room and slip between my sheets next to me. I all but begged for it to happen.
It didn’t.
Flopping onto my back, I stare at the ceiling, wishing for the first time that I had a television in my bedroom.
I never saw the need before now. I have one in the living room, and usually, I read in bed before falling asleep, but my brain just isn't focused enough to read anything at this point. Mindless television would be nice, but there is no way in hell I’m going out to that living room, where he is.
So I lie in my bed, wide awake. Staring at the ceiling, my mind wanders all over the place without a moment’s rest until I see the sun shining from behind my curtain. I hear my little single-cup coffee maker start spitting out a cup of scalding-hot coffee, signaling that Goose is awake.
Giving up the internal struggle, I throw my legs over the side of the bed, place my feet on the floor, and slowly stand.
I don’t know what to expect for the day, but I’m sure it will be a lot more of him treating me like a child and a lot more of me trying not to shift between slapping and kissing him.
I’m really not sure how long he can be here in my space before I go completely crazy. After using the bathroom, I wash my hands and chance a glance at my reflection in the mirror. Yikes. I look exactly like I feel… like I didn’t sleep for shit last night.
Walking over to my closet, I tug one of my oversized sweaters off a hanger and slip it on to cover myself, not that Goose hasn’t already seen every part of me, because he has.
I try to ignore the man in question as I walk past the living area and straight into the kitchen, but he is impossible to ignore.
There he is, standing with his back to me. Just a few feet out of the kitchen, next to the small dining room table. He’s barefoot, his jeans resting against his hips, his torso naked… and huge.
He’s put on so much muscle that I stare awe-struck for far longer than I should. Licking my lips, I fight back the urge to moan at the sight of his muscles. I also ball my fingers into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him.
A shiver of lust slides through me, which thankfully takes me out of my ogling trance before he turns around and notices me, but he probably already sensed me staring, so it likely doesn’t even matter.
I make my coffee, use the last of my cinnamon roll creamer, then start to walk toward the door that leads out to my minuscule balcony. That’s when he finally speaks, causing me to pause with my hand on the knob.
“No,” Goose barks.
Turning my head, I look over at him. He’s still standing exactly where he was a few seconds ago, his gaze unmoving as he stares forward, but his body is alert. He’s ready to throw down if need be… and I wish he would throw me down. But I don’t say that.
“What do you mean, no?” I ask.
“I mean, no. You’re not going outside.”
I start to get an attitude, out of complete frustration more than anything.
I don’t say half the things I’m thinking, even though I really want to.
It would be futile. This man is in charge of my life right now, and I know it’s because he wants to keep me safe, but he’s annoying the absolute hell out of me.
Pressing my lips together, I wait for him to continue, because clearly, he has more to say to me. And he does.
“Not until I get this place locked in the way I want it. You need to stay inside. Groceries will be delivered in about half an hour.”
Ignoring him in an effort to keep from telling him what I’m thinking, I walk over to the small dining room table that he’s still facing away from and sink down in one of the chairs, refusing to look at his sexy, expansive back.
“It’s annoying me too, babe,” he mutters.
I hate it when he calls me babe. It’s such a throwaway term that all the guys use.
My own cousin uses it sometimes when he’s talking to me.
So I know without a doubt it means absolutely nothing.
And I hate that, because I want to mean everything to this man.
Which I also hate, because I know I shouldn’t.
“Can’t go use your gym downstairs until this shit is handled.”
“Noticed that you’ve obviously been spending more time in the gym. What’s going on there?” I ask.
I’m trying to take my mind off the fact that this situation is frustrating in so many ways, but specifically sexually.
I can without a doubt say that I’ve never been sexually frustrated in my life, not like this.
I’m not very experienced, but I know what this man feels like, and I want it again… and again… and again.
GOOSE
Thankfully, there is a knock on the door before I can do something stupid, like rip her clothes off and fuck her right here on the little dining room table. Because that is exactly what I want to do right now.
Turning away from the window, I walk toward the door and look through the peephole, ensuring that it’s the grocery delivery service. I recognize the logo on his shirt, so I open the door.
He greets me, though I don’t miss the way his eyes widen at my bare chest. I can’t deny, getting yoked has serious advantages. Because even without my cut on, I know this motherfucker wouldn’t even attempt to do a damn thing. I intimidate by existing at this size.
“Sign this for the beer,” he mutters as he shoves an electronic device at me.
My eyes scan the screen. It’s literally just a place to sign. I scribble my initials and grab the bags from him, thanking him before I close and lock the door. When I turn around, I see Cidney standing just a few feet away.
“What?” I ask.
She shakes her head from side to side, her messy hair moving all around. It makes me smile. Cidney is fucking adorable. I don’t know how the fuck this woman is single. She should be loved up with someone, but I’m happy she’s not.
And I shouldn’t be, because there can actually be nothing between us.
She is off-limits, even if I’ve already had a taste.
That taste is all I can have. I don’t want to ruin any more relationships.
The one I have with my own flesh and blood is still teetering on the edge.
I don’t want to piss off any more family.
So, while I want to lick her pussy until she comes on my tongue. While I want to bury myself inside her tight cunt and fuck her so hard she can’t even speak, I will do neither. I will jack my cock in the shower and hope to fuck this situation ends soon.
I’m not sure how much tighter I can bend before I break.
Cidney tests my will at every turn. Once I’m in the kitchen, I place the bags on the counter, and she’s there, right next to me, reaching into the bags. She puts away the pantry items in her small cabinet while I put my beer in the fridge, along with anything else that needs to be kept cold.
We work quietly as a team, so it doesn’t take us long to get everything put away in its place, and then Cidney speaks.
“How much do I owe you?” she asks.
I almost laugh in her face, but when I flick my gaze to meet hers, I can tell she’s apprehensive. “Nothing,” I state.
Her eyes widen, and she looks down at the counter before she flicks her gaze to meet mine. “You don’t have to do that. I can’t let you do that.”
My lips twitch into a smirk, and I know my words are going to come out a little rude, but I also know that I need to keep her at arm’s length. “I didn’t,” I say. “Club paid for it. I’m here watching you. It’s club business.”
Cidney’s eyes go wide, and she nods once, then clears her throat. “Well, thanks anyway,” she mutters before she turns and starts to walk away.
Now I actually feel like a dick. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around her wrist so she can’t get far from me. Tugging her back slightly, I watch as she stumbles backward a few steps before she whips around to face me.
“To be clear,” I begin, “I would pay for whatever I needed to pay for, Cidney, and I would not ever ask you for a dime. I know you’re not working, but that wouldn’t mean a fuckin’ thing, either. It is more because you’re a woman, a good woman, and I would never ask anything like that of you.”
She frowns, obviously a bit confused by my words, but then her gaze flicks up to meet mine. Her eyes search my own while her tongue slides across her bottom lip. My gaze slides across that lip, wishing it were my tongue wetting it.
“That sounds sexist,” she rasps.
“It’s not sexist. It’s what’s right. I’m a man, you’re in my company, I pay for your shit. Whatever that looks like.”
She shakes her head once but doesn’t attempt to pull away from me or even take her eyes from mine. Instead, she moves closer, until her torso almost touches mine, her tits so fucking close to pressing against my chest.
I let out a grunt in anticipation of the moment her softness presses against me.
But it doesn’t happen, at least not immediately.
I don’t pull her closer to me, although I’m at my breaking point, and I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours.
I know that my control is on the verge of vanishing completely.
“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” she breathes. “Except for this. You’re not my man, so you’re not obligated to pay for anything. I’ll accept it because you’re right, this is a club thing, and it’s not like I have a choice in it anyway.”
I’m sure her words, her bite, her tone should turn me off. They don’t. I don’t think anything about her could turn me off at this point. She narrows her eyes slightly, which only makes me smile bigger.
Dipping my chin slightly, I look down into her face, our eyes staying connected. “I’m trying really hard here, Cidney.”
She licks her lips again, and I bite back the groan. “What do you mean?” she asks on a breathy whisper.
Fuck. Me.
She’s going to make me say it.
And saying it out loud is going to break the threadbare hold I have on my control. I pull her closer with a jerk, feeling her body press against mine. Dipping my chin, I run my nose along hers, my mouth shifting to her ear. I feel her body tremble, and my cock twitches.
“I’m trying really hard not to fuck the absolute shit out of you.”