Chapter 11
Dallas
I hate taking Arianna back to her apartment with every fiber in my being. I want her in my bed for the rest of my life. Now that I’ve tasted her and worshipped her delectable body, I’m done for.
But Arianna has insisted she needs to go home and sleep in her own bed. She’s disoriented, as though she’s had too much to drink. I did that to her, and I’m pretty damn proud of myself. All the more reason to hate leaving her alone.
I can’t protect her if she’s not with me.
I have security at the estate. She’s got none at her apartment, not even a camera.
As much as I want to believe her when she tells me she is not in danger from whatever has happened in the past, I still worry.
I’m going to worry about her for the rest of my life.
She’s my world.
I wish she would fucking trust me enough to tell me why she gained a new identity when she was eighteen. My PI never did find a trace of her before that, which means she definitely had the help of the government or a lot of fucking money.
I can’t think of a single reason why she would be hiding from her childhood unless she witnessed a murder or some other heinous crime, but until she tells me, my hands are tied. I have to trust her.
I escort her through the back door and examine the lock.
She sighs. “Dallas, it’s totally fine. No one is going to try to break into a library. There’s nothing to steal. All they’d get is old books. There’s no cash, and we don’t have the funds to purchase newer books yet.”
I shift my attention to her and furrow my brows. “Baby, I don’t give a rat’s ass about the books. I only care about you. You’re here.”
She sighs again, letting her shoulders drop. “No one is coming for me. I promise.”
I stare at her for long seconds before reminding her, “Arianna, I swear, if I find out you’ve been lying to me about why you’re hiding in this small town, I will tie you to my bed face-down and spank you every few hours for a week to teach you a lesson.”
My girl giggles. “And that’s supposed to make me talk?”
I grab her around the waist and haul her against me before growling. “Such a naughty girl.”
She’s still giggling. It’s refreshing, and it takes the wind out of my sails.
Before I decide to manhandle her up the stairs and insist on sleeping in her bed in this dilapidated apartment, I kiss her soundly, let her go, and yank the door open to step outside.
“Lock it, baby, and then lock upstairs, too. And keep your phone on the pillow next to you. I want you to have it close at all times.”
“Yes, Sir,” she says in a sassy tone.
I shoot her another hard look. “Arianna…”
“Okay, okay. Locks, phone, pillow. Got it.”
“And keep your fingers away from my pussy, naughty girl. I’ll be here at eight-thirty.
If I find out you masturbated all night, the spanking I gave you this morning will seem like child’s play.
I’ll bring a butt plug with me tomorrow, a thick one, and when you need to empty your bowels, I’ll pull it out and wait in the bathroom until you’re done before I put it back in.
” I lift a brow. I know my suggestion is way over the top, but I want her to keep her fingers away from her cunt.
It’s mine, and she knows me well enough not to doubt me.
Her expression sobers, and she stands taller. “I won’t touch myself,” she murmurs.
“I should think not.” I grab her around the neck, kiss her one more time, and then jog to my car before I can change my mind and insist on staying.
I want to give her space. I want her to miss me. I want her to squirm with need and wish she were in my arms. That’s all I can do until she sees reason.
After I get into my car, I watch her shut the door and pray she locked the deadbolt. Then, I grip the steering wheel hard on the drive back to the estate. I remind myself it’s only a matter of time.
I know from Ryder and Tiago that the best way to convince my girl to head to the courthouse and sign a marriage certificate is to give her frequent reminders of how hard I can make her come while denying her at the same time.
I smirk as I remember her reaction an hour ago after she came.
She begged me to fuck her. She even used the word fuck .
Giving a woman an amazing orgasm and not letting her have anything inside their cunt afterward is apparently cruel and unusual punishment.
My girl writhed and bucked and begged, but I didn’t even enter her with my tongue.
A few more days of that will surely bring her round to my way of thinking.
I arrive back at the estate on autopilot, not remembering much of the drive.
I wave at the night guard, drive to the back of the mansion, park in the huge garage, and then drag myself into the dark, quiet house.
It’s been quieter since Claire realized she was pregnant.
They still fuck every day, but not deep into the night. She’s too tired.
As I quietly climb the stairs, I chuckle at myself. Just eight days ago, I was making fun of my cousins. Now I’m as whipped as they are and desperate to drag Arianna to the justice of the peace.
She’s mine. The sooner she accepts that, the happier I’ll be.
After a shower—where I palm the wall and let myself reach my pleasure—I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s been three years since I’ve slept with a woman. I’ve occasionally scratched my itch and had meaningless sex, but no one has been in my bed or even my home.
My relationship with Arianna is eye-opening.
I’ve never experienced anything this intense.
It makes my previous marriage seem ridiculous and hasty.
Even though I knew Beth for two years before we got married, I realize now it was a terrible mistake.
I didn’t love her. I thought I did, but now that I have such a deep attachment to Arianna, I know my previous relationship was nothing.
That’s probably why it failed so miserably and ended with my wife bitter and angry and dragging me to court to take my money.
I swore I would never let a woman get that close to me again. I was wrong. I just needed to meet the right woman.
Hell, even my feelings about procreating have taken a one-hundred-eighty-degree change. I never wanted kids with Beth. I never even considered it. In our second year of marriage, she brought it up once, but I shot it down.
It took only a few days with Arianna to know I desperately want to impregnate her and watch her grow round with my child.
Several of them. It’s not that I want to tie her to me so irrevocably that she can’t leave.
It’s that I want to share something so special with her that neither of us would ever contemplate breaking apart.
I’m in love with her. She’s my life.
I flop around, unable to get comfortable. My bed seems empty, lonely.
Suddenly, my phone rings on my nightstand and I bolt upright, snatching it before it has the chance to ring a second time. I don’t even look at the number. I know it’s my girl.
“Arianna?”
“Dallas, something’s happened to the pipes. I need help.”
There’s an urgency in her voice that has me leaping out of bed and grabbing my jeans before she finishes her sentence. I nestle the phone between my cheek and shoulder as I grab my shoes. “What’s happening, baby?”
“Water. Everywhere. It’s dripping from the ceiling all over the place. I heard a strange noise, and then it sounded like a fire hydrant came on above my head. I don’t know how to stop it.” She’s shouting now. “So much water. The books…”
“I’m on my way, baby. Do you know where the shutoff valve is?” I run down the stairs, pulling a shirt over my head at the same time. I’m out the back door and in my car within seconds.
“No idea. I don’t even know where or what to look for,” she cries in frustration. “Dallas, the books…”
“Baby, I’m already in my car. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Ten minutes means breaking the law and driving way too fucking fast, but I don’t like the panic in my girl’s voice. Even though it’s just water, she’s in a frenzy, and I hate that.
I’m certain there’s a shutoff valve outside, but I wouldn’t want her going out there to look for it in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be safe.
I try to keep her calm, but she’s mumbling the entire drive about the books. She’s near tears by the time I pull into the lot behind the library. “I’m here, baby. I’m going to find the shutoff valve outside. You can come down and unlock the door for me.”
I rush around the outside of the building, getting lucky that my instinct to go to the left was correct.
I quickly locate the main water source and turn it off.
When I’m certain it’s fully closed, I jog to the back door, where I find a frantic Arianna wringing her hands together. Tears are running down her face.
I pull her into my arms as I back her into the stairwell. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve turned it off.”
She hiccups and shakes her head. “The books…”
My girl is certainly passionate about the library. I may not know why she came to this town or what she’s hiding from, but I do know that she’s serious about her job and loves books. That part is very real.
I reach behind her and unlock the door leading to the back of the library. After I open it, I flip on the main lights on the panel I’ve seen Arianna use. The entire interior illuminates.
I glance around as Arianna turns in my arms. “I don’t see any water leaking into the library yet, baby. Let’s go upstairs so I can assess the damage. You said it was coming in from the ceiling above your bed?”
She nods, still sobbing. “Yes.”
My heart hurts for her. I may not feel the same passion as she does about books, but I do feel empathy for my girl. I don’t like to see her hurting for any reason. If the library is this important to her, I will take this seriously and respect her feelings.