Chapter 8 #2
“Oh, princess, you are most definitely a Little girl. As I said already, you’re staying with me.
I guess I should have made it clearer: we’re sharing a bed—the only bed in this cabin.
” As I try to pick up my jaw, the one that’s hanging open and nearly hitting the floor, he’s halfway down the hallway with my suitcase.
Cazzo! I’m in so much trouble. My brothers are going to kill me if they find out I am sleeping with a man; especially after they reminded me about Arturo, the asshat.
Hurrying down the hall to catch up to Aaron, I follow him into what has to be his bedroom. It’s huge. As soon as I step past the doorway, I’m surrounded by his citrus-and-bourbon scent. There’s a king-sized bed, nightstands, a large chest of drawers, and an armoire that all look custom-made.
A comforter, in the same forest green as the couch, covers the bed, making the room feel warm and inviting.
Artwork similar to the paintings in the main room covers the walls, except for the door on the left.
I’m guessing it’s an ensuite bathroom and a closet.
When he opens the closet door, it leads to the bathroom.
From what I can see from here, it’s as large as everything else in his home.
“This is the master bath. There’s a linen closet in there.
You can find spare toothbrushes in the drawer.
If there’s anything else you need, let me know.
Go ahead, princess, and get ready for bed.
I’ll give you some privacy tonight, but only because we haven’t talked about limits yet.
Don’t dawdle; I’ll be back in twenty minutes. ”
I’m rooted to the spot as he places my suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed and opens it for me. A bolt of jealousy hits me when he walks out, pulling the door closed.
Why is my only takeaway from everything he said about a spare toothbrush? How many other women have been here with him? Slept in his bed?
Merda. Maybe he really did put something in the sweet tea.
This isn’t like me. Or maybe it’s having all my deepest, darkest dreams come true.
Haven’t I always wanted a Daddy Dom to make all the decisions, take care of my Little, and set my girly parts on fire?
Except men like that don’t exist in real life; they’re only book boyfriends, right?
God knows I’ve written my fair share of them.
Cavolo. I’ve been standing here, letting my mind wander, instead of getting ready.
How long has it been? I don’t have a clue how much time I have before he comes storming back in, but I know I need to move.
I’m not sure I’m ready for Aaron to be angry at me.
It was scary enough when he directed his rage at my brothers.
After grabbing the toiletries pouch and a nightgown from my bag, I rush into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me.
Not that it would keep him out if he wanted to come in, since it’s his house—his bedroom.
Ugh. It’s a problem for Future Cheri. Right now, I need to focus, preferably on finding a place to pee.
The first thing I notice is the enormous claw-foot tub.
That thing has to be big enough for three people, or maybe one huge mountain man and his Little princess?
What I wouldn’t give for a nice long soak, except the thought of water reminds me how badly I need to find the toilet.
It’s annoying how I can’t stop thinking about Aaron when I should be trying to figure out how to get out of this mess.
The last thing I need is for him to realize how attracted I am to him.
When I find the toilet enclosure, I finally pee, and oh my God, the relief.
I meant to ask before dinner, but then Adrian came in.
Then my brothers happened, and I got distracted.
I’m very lucky I didn’t have an accident in the middle of all of it, especially when Asher pressed the gun against Cris’ head.
With my epic pee complete, I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror. Holy shit. Mascara streaks my cheeks, leaving black tear tracks. My eyes are red-rimmed and puffy—it’s horrifying. Why didn’t Jaclyn say anything? Why didn’t Aaron?
Cavolo. This entire trip has been a colossal failure.
Especially now that I know Jac is fine. Not only fine, but happier than she ever imagined.
Go figure. Neither of us expected that in less than forty-eight hours she’d find the man of her dreams and marry him.
Meanwhile, I’m standing in his brother’s en suite, looking like a feral cat left out in the rain.
More tears threaten to fall as I take in my appearance.
I’ve probably cried more this evening than I have in the last five years—I just can’t anymore.
Fuck this shit, as Jac says. Scrubbing my face until my cheeks are rosy, I make sure I’ve removed all traces of my makeup.
Then I pull my electric toothbrush from my toiletries case—I definitely don’t need one of his spares.
By the time I’m done, I feel almost human again.
I can almost hear the timer ticking down. I’m sure he’ll be back any minute to check on me. Damn. I’m so not ready to face him yet. He’ll just have to wait while I finish my normal before-bed routine. After today, I definitely need it.
My face is red, and my skin looks chapped from how hard I washed it.
The face cream feels like heaven as I rub in the soothing moisturizer.
The tension finally drains away when he knocks on the door.
Startled by the sudden sound, my greasy hands struggle to hold onto the glass jar without dropping it into the sink.
“Time’s up, princess.” Aaron’s voice comes through the door.
Merda.
“I’m almost ready. Give me a few more minutes, please.
” Not knowing how he’ll answer, I’m rushing to close the jar and rinse my hands as I hear his chuckle.
So I’m definitely not prepared for the stern voice saying, “Two minutes. Then I’m coming in and putting you to bed, whether or not you’re ready. ”
What the hell is his fixation with getting me to bed?
Pulling my lip between my teeth, I bite down as I braid my hair, making my eyes water.
Ugh. It’s sore, and a little swollen from when I bit it earlier.
You’ve got this, Cheri, you do. Maybe if I say it enough, my insides will stop doing somersaults, thinking about sharing a bed with him.
There’s got to be another option. We can’t sleep together. My brothers will kill me…or him. Definitely him. “I’ll tell him I’m sleeping on the couch. It looked comfy. Yup, that’s what I’ll do,” I mutter, peeling off my clothes and sliding the lavender chemise over my head.
It skims over my body and hugs my curves.
As I stare at my reflection, my cheeks flame.
I guess I didn’t really think this whole drop-in visit through very well.
The silk thigh-length gown doesn’t conceal a thing.
Not my wide hips or thick thighs. Oh my God.
And definitely not my hard nipples poking through the soft fabric.
There’s no hiding my attraction to Aaron.
Since he met me at the gate, I’ve been wet and needy.
When he touched me, kissed me, I don’t know how I didn’t spontaneously combust. Only my padded bra saved me from utter mortification, but nothing is going to save me now.
Nope. As soon as I walk out there, my attraction will be impossible to miss. Cavolo!
Biting my sore lip again, I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. Just thinking about Aaron seeing me like this makes my nipples even harder and my pussy clench with need. Merda. Please, please don’t let him notice how wet I am. I’ll never be able to look him in the face again.
I can almost see him pacing on the other side of the door, counting down the seconds until he busts down the door.
Out of time, and with no way to cover up the girls, I just need to suck it up.
Oh well. I’ll never see him again after I leave with my brothers.
Why does the thought make my heart ache?
After unlatching the lock, I twist the knob and pull open the door. He must have been about to knock, because only Aaron’s quick reflexes save me from getting a fist in the face—yeah, that would have been the frosting on the cake.
He takes a step back to give me space to leave the bathroom, his gaze sliding over my body. He takes in every inch of me as his fists clench at his sides. Now it’s not just my cheeks on fire. My entire body turns tomato red under his intense gaze.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, so low I barely hear him. I probably wouldn’t have, except I’m hyper-focused on him. His eyes darken with desire as he runs a hand through his short, wavy, chestnut locks.
But then the strangest thing happens. The admiration in his expression erases any sense of embarrassment I worried about.
For the first time in my life, I feel desired.
Not just as the daughter of a wealthy family, or a best-selling author, but for me.
Because Aaron sees me. It’s there, in his heated appraisal.
“Shit, Cheri. I thought you were gorgeous before, but fuck, Little princess, you’re fucking exquisite.
I promised myself I’d be a gentleman tonight and not push you into anything until we could talk in the morning.
But fucking hell,” he groans. “My restraint isn’t… Fuck… I don’t think I can resist you.”
What does he mean? Resist me? Talk? Talk about what?