Chapter 12
Iwake to the sound of a continuous dull thud.
It takes a couple of minutes to clear the sleep fog before it dawns on me that I’m not dreaming and I can actually hear this repeated sound.
I sit bolt upright, and try to figure out where the sound is coming from.
It’s not in the apartment, but it’s close.
Denham is still fast asleep so I shake him by the shoulder to wake him up. He groans and stirs but shows no sign of waking fully, so I whip the covers back. “Wake up, Denham, there’s someone out there.” That gets him. He sits up fast and springs out of bed.
“I think someone is banging on your door across the hall, it’s been going on for ages.”
“That’s it?” he grumbles. “Whoever is banging can wait. Or even better, they can go away.”
I watch his stomach ripple as he runs his hands through his now mussed up hair.
The just got out of bed suits him very well.
In fact, he owns it. I let my eyes roam down the angular lines of his jaw, across his broad shoulders and then down over his sculpted torso.
The lines of his body seem to lead me to that sexy V which draws my eyes downwards under those cotton lounge pants which I just want to …
“Are you objectifying me, Arianna?” he questions.
Oh god. Ground, just open up and swallow me whole. “I … um, I …” I cover my now very red face with my hands and let myself fall backwards.
He climbs back in, and I feel him place his hands either side of my head as he straddles me with his legs and covers me with his body, pushing me into the mattress. He kisses my hands in turn so gently it sends shivers down my arms. “Look at me,” he orders softly.
I shake my head from side to side. I’m mortally embarrassed. I have no idea what just came over me, and even worse, I’m fighting with myself not to uncover my eyes and finish my visual exploration of Denham’s amazing body.
“I said, look at me.”
I spread my fingers and peek through the gap.
“Arianna.” He chuckles. “Take your hands away.”
“I can’t,” I mumble and screw my eyes tight shut.
Peeling my fingers back one by one, he takes my hands in his, then rests them gently on either side of my head as he tangles his fingers with mine. There’s no getting out of the firm grip he has me in.
“Open your eyes,” he demands softly. I open them slowly and I’m met with his golden gaze. He has soft creases in the corners of his eyes that make his face more handsome somehow. “You want to look at me?”
Oh, god … Yes, I want to look at him but I don’t know how to say yes. “Denham,” I protest and turn my head to the side in total embarrassment.
“Arianna, I don’t know who taught you that you should be embarrassed, but whoever did it is an asshole.
” I turn my head slowly, making sure to look just at his face.
“Don’t be ashamed of your desires. If you want to look, then look.
I work damn hard to keep in shape and I like that you want to look at me. ”
My eyes want to travel. They want to explore every inch.
I don’t even know why I’m protesting so much.
Sex has always just been sex. Even with Aaron it was just sex between two people.
There was no mutual appreciation. I think we did it just because that’s what couples do.
Don’t get me wrong, it was good at the time …
I think. I didn’t really have anything positive to compare it to.
It was a physical exchange. Not one I craved or needed.
There wasn’t this electric charge I can feel thrumming through my body every time I even so much as think about Denham.
“Don’t zone out on me, Stunner. It’s me and you right now. Don’t let it be anything else. No past. No demons. Just us.”
For a moment, it crosses my mind that the knocking has stopped, but Denham distracts me again. He takes our entwined hands and places my palms flat on his chest. I feel his pulse accelerating under my touch and mine speeds to catch up.
“Close your eyes,” he says softly. I hesitate for a moment. “Trust me.”
I let my lids fall shut.
He covers my hands with his and guides them slowly over his skin …
over the curve of his pecs … down the planes of his torso …
Silky, soft skin covers hard, granite muscle and every sense is heightened as the pads of my fingers tingle with sensation, feeling every bump and ripple.
I let him guide my hands over his body, each second getting easier.
I want it. I crave it.
I hold my breath as he traces his V with the tips of my index fingers and a soft growl escapes from his lips.
He stops, holding my hands still and breathes deep when we reach the band of his pants.
I don’t know if he’s bracing himself to continue or willing himself to stop.
I slowly open my eyes to look up into his face.
His eyes are pools of inky black, pupils dilated so I can’t see the gold flecks in his eyes.
I watch his chest rapidly rise and fall as I wait on his next move, guided by him and not my embarrassment.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. “It’s gonna be so sweet, Stunner, and worth every second that we wait.” He groans huskily.
“Still set on that waiting idea, huh?” I joke.
“It might take every ounce of my self-restraint, but yes. We’re waiting until your mind is healthy and your heart is healed.” He kisses me hard on the mouth and climbs off the bed. “So what would you like to do today?”
“You wind me up, tighter than a coiled spring, then you ask me what I’d like to do?”
Nervous tension.
Sexual tension.
All the tension from the past few days is building inside of me and it’s starting to make me irritable.
“What’s up? You don’t have any self-restraint?” He snickers.
“You think this is funny?” I reply, my voice raising an octave. I hop off the bed and stomp toward him, poking him in the chest. “I asked you a question. Do you think that it’s funny to frustrate me then make me wait?” I dig him hard in the center of the chest with my index finger a second time.
“Well …”
I place a hand on my cocked hip and wait for his reply.
His demeanor changes and the air suddenly feels chilly.
I feel my skin prickle across my shoulders as his eyes hold mine in a hard gaze, then he takes a step closer to me, causing me to shuffle backwards until the back of my legs touch the bed.
“You think I would take pleasure in giving you any discomfort?” He snatches up my hand, making me jump. “You think I take pleasure in this?” He pushes my hand into his crotch and holds me there as I curl my fingers around him—thick, hot and hard.
Waves of pleasure push through my body and settle in my core. I don’t think I’ve ever felt sensations in my body like this. I’m turned on and wishing there were none of his stupid rules, wishing there were no layers of clothing between us.
He lets go of my hand, dropping his head and taking a deep breath.
I don’t let my hand fall away like I’m sure he expects me to. Instead, I push my palm further into him, stepping forward and tilting my head so our cheeks are touching.
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’m trying to prove to you that I’m not broken and I don’t need fixing.”
“What do you need, Arianna?”
“I need you to stop treating me like a fragile bird.” The flimsy cotton of his pants does nothing to conceal his arousal as I rub slowly up and down his length. His eyes flutter closed, getting lost in the sensation, and his pelvis tilts as he pushes into my hand.
I move closer and speak against his lips, “Stop being a gentleman, Mr. King. I need a man.”
His hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me away from his groin, making me gasp. “Don’t push me, Arianna,” he grits out “You are testing me … Christ, you would test the patience of a saint, and I’m trying to do the right thing here, dammit.”
He scrubs his hands through his unruly hair and pushes past me to the bathroom, then shoves the door hard with his foot. It slams behind him, the noise reverberating through the entire apartment so hard that I feel my insides rattle.
Ugh, I handled that terribly. I actually have no idea how to deal with feelings of lust and frustration because I’ve never had to.
He’s the only man who has ever brought it out in me.
The only man who has ever made me feel desired.
I desire him too. So much. He treats me with respect, but I’ve pushed him.
I don’t want him to do something he’s not entirely comfortable with and it dawns on me that I’ve been unfair.
In my wants and desires I’ve been selfish and thoughtless.
I head to the kitchen and make a coffee, but there’s still glass everywhere and I have nothing to clean it up with.
He needs space for a few minutes and I need to calm myself before I push him further away, so I take up my usual position on the balcony, I rest my elbows on the wall.
As usual, the world walks on by, seemingly trouble-free.
What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me now?
What if he finally takes my advice and decides it’s best for him to steer clear?
He could cut ties and never look back. But could I?
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am broken. Maybe I was never really whole in the first place.
I hear gentle footsteps behind me and I stiffen, bracing myself for the ache that I’m already starting to feel if he walks away. I close my eyes and when I can no longer hear his footsteps, I wait for the sound of the closing door.
It doesn’t come.
Instead, bare arms snake around my waist and pull me in tightly as Denham nestles his chin in my shoulder and buries his nose in my hair.