Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I DON’T LIKE THIS
Sorinah
“I thought we agreed, conventional wasn’t our thing,” Sorinah teased.
“We did, but I don’t mind you waiting for me to come home with a hot meal, even if you didn’t make it yourself,” he replied, his tone light, with a touch of humour.
“This is why you can’t have nice things,” Sorinah retorted with mock exasperation.
“It is customary for people to do thoughtful things for each other when they care about each other,” he countered smugly.
“Would you stop making a big deal about the dinner?” Sorinah’s tone shifted to a half-serious, half-amused warning. “Or it will never happen again.”
“I think you enjoyed how I rewarded you for the surprise,” he said, his voice carrying a cocky edge.
He was such a dickhole. What did it say about Sorinah that it was one of the things she liked about him? Her thoughts were laced with self-awareness and fondness.
She couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Her body tingled at the recalling of how he made her come repeatedly, her physical and emotional response tinged with warmth and desire.
“And I think I was more than adequately rewarded, so then you didn’t need to send me flowers to thank me,” Sorinah said, trying to downplay the gesture.
“Flowers?” he asked, his surprise genuine, hinting at his lack of knowledge about the situation.
“Yes. And they are over the top and gaudy,” she said with a laugh.
He deserved the ribbing. Normally, Aldrich had impeccable taste.
Did he think she would like this arrangement of flowers that would be better suited to a wake?
Her humour carried a hint of mild critique, and her thoughts betrayed lofty expectations of Aldrich.
“Kitten?” His voice sounded tight, and the nickname didn’t hold the same affection it normally did, revealing a hint of tension.
“Yeah,” Sorinah responded casually.
“Who the fuck is buying you flowers?” Aldrich asked sharply, betraying a flicker of jealousy.
Shit! Sorinah realised the flowers weren’t from Aldrich. The card had said See you soon, but it didn’t have a name. The realisation dawned with a mix of confusion and mild panic.
What the hell? If Aldrich hadn’t sent the flowers, she couldn’t think of anyone else that would have.
She hadn’t “dealt” with anyone besides him in a while, and when she had, no one had sent flowers to her, and certainly not at her job.
Her confusion deepened, her mind racing to find a logical explanation.
“Oh. It must be from a client,” she covered quickly, her tone defensive, trying to brush off the awkwardness.
“A client, huh?” Aldrich asked skeptically.
“Well. I have a meeting to get ready for.” Her tone was rushed, and she clearly sought to escape the uncomfortable conversation. “I’ll stop by and see you later.”
Imogen called and informed her that she had a call on line 1. She absentmindedly took the call, not bothering to check who it was.
“Hello, Sorinah.”
The deep male voice immediately unsettled her. Everything in her ran cold at the greeting of the voice on the other line. It had been years since she had heard his voice. Her reaction was visceral, her body reacting before her mind fully processed the shock.
“Albert,” she said, her response strained, revealing the depth of her discomfort.
“Did you get my flowers, Sweetling?” Albert asked, his tone overly familiar, with a false sweetness that grated on her.
“Oh, those were from you,” Sorinah said flatly, her surprise tinged with irritation.
“Yes. I was thinking of you, and I thought—” Albert began hesitantly, as if searching for the right words.
“You refused to acknowledge my message that my son was born. Now, seventeen years later, you send me flowers?” Sorinah’s tone was icy, her anger and hurt bubbling to the surface.
“You know things were complicated…” He cleared his throat.
“…for us. I should have handled things differently. Better. I wish I had.” More throat clearing.
“Anyway, I know sending you flowers for your birthday doesn’t make up for my absence.
” Albert’s voice was apologetic but awkward, his words failing to land convincingly.
“No, it doesn’t make up for you abandoning my son, especially when it isn’t my birthday,” Sorinah retorted sharply, her anger undisguised.
“Well, I didn’t remember the exact date, but it’s soon,” Albert said weakly, his tone faltering under her scrutiny.
“Yes, if soon is in six months,” Sorinah said with biting sarcasm, underscoring her disdain for his attempt at justification.
“I’m sorry I got it wrong. I was at a loss how to open the line of communication after all this time,” Albert apologised, his tone sincere but inadequate, his discomfort palpable.
“You shouldn’t have bothered. Goodbye, Albert.” Sorinah’s dismissal was final, her tone cold and unyielding, her restraint a quiet show of strength. She resisted the urge to slam the phone down, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
The moment Aldrich touched her, it felt different; alarm bells went off in her head.
They hadn’t seen each other for two weeks, but that wasn’t what was different.
This level of… well, intimacy wasn’t their thing.
The pace was a little too slow for her taste, too gentle, like he was savouring something she wasn’t sure she could offer.
His touch was far too tender, his gaze intense in a way that made promises she was terrified to embrace.
Where was that consuming passion, the kind where he practically ripped her clothing from her body because he couldn’t wait a moment longer to have her?
No, these movements were of someone who had all the time in the world to indulge in what he wanted most.
Sorinah felt a heaviness settle in her chest, a cold void that seemed to expand with every second.
Her heart raced, but not with excitement; it was a frantic, hopeless pounding, as if her body were screaming for something it knew it couldn’t have.
A shallow, rapid breath escaped her, her hands trembling slightly, a cold sweat forming on her brow like a harbinger of despair.
She wasn’t used to such tenderness from him, and it unsettled her.
The way he looked at her hinted at something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to confront.
It felt like he was peeling back layers of herself she had buried long ago, exposing the ache of loneliness she carried beneath her bravado.
Sorinah shrank back, unsure if she could trust the aching vulnerability his touch demanded.
He moved his hand from beneath hers, slowly skimming her jawline, then down her neck until it rested at the base.
He circled her neck, his hold slack except for the gentleness of his touch, confining like a shackle she wanted to break free from or perhaps cling to, because even this small contact reminded her how empty she felt without him.
“Don’t do this!” Sorinah begged, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration, longing, and the bitter edge of despair.
Her eyes blinked open slowly when he didn’t respond.
“Do what?” he asked, though the glint in his eyes made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing to her, relishing the way she squirmed under his touch, as if he could sense the conflict tearing her apart. The physical ache for him warred with the emptiness she couldn’t escape.
“You know… what.” She pushed against his chest, her hands lingering as if torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, her body screaming for the release only he could give while her mind drowned in the weight of her own loneliness.
“Stop with all the gentle caresses, and just fuck me already.”
“Nothing says we can’t make love and fuck at the same time,” he murmured, his tone intimate, as if he were trying to bridge the chasm between them, to offer her something she didn’t think she deserved.
“DH, don’t complicate what we have,” she said, her voice softening despite herself, betraying a raw vulnerability she hadn’t intended to show.
“Kitten, we are far beyond complicated,” he replied, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead, his touch a silent promise of both passion and care, a duality that only deepened her sense of turmoil.
“I don’t like this.” She straightened her posture, standing at her full height, forcing steely resolve into her voice even as her insides twisted with the gnawing emptiness she couldn’t name.
“Since when is my Kitten afraid of challenges?” His fingers toyed with the straps of her dress, a small, taunting gesture that made her skin burn with the physical longing she couldn’t deny.
“I’m not…” Her eyes widened in incredulity. She feared what he was making her feel, not just the hunger for his touch, but the hopelessness that came with wanting something she was afraid to trust.
He wanted to own her, and she wanted to let go and let him. She promised herself she’d never let go again, even as the emptiness inside her whispered that she already had.
“Look at me,” Aldrich commanded.
She was about to give him a snarky reply because their gazes were already locked on each other, but he shook his head. “No. Really look at me.”
A soft sigh escaped her as his thumbs stroked the column of her neck.
“You can let go. I won’t let you down.” His voice was lower, but his words were loud and clear.
“You better not.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
Aldrich’s answer was a smile. “I wouldn’t dare, and not because I know you have claws and aren’t afraid to use them, but because it would kill me if I caused you a moment of pain.”
Shit, how was she supposed to keep her walls up when he said things like that?
When she could feel how sincere he looked when he said them.
Sorinah knew she could trust him. Besides, she was tired of protecting herself from a man who kept proving to her that he was worthy of more than just her body.
She was finally ready to take the leap. She tilted her head up, offering her lips to him.
It was all the encouragement Aldrich needed.
His head descended slowly. Her eyes fluttered closed as he gently captured her lips possessively.
He deepened the kiss, and she responded instinctively, their breaths mingling as the moment deepened.
The intensity was unlike anything they had shared before.