Page 49 of The Woman

“It matches your eyes,” he muses, looking from the dress to me. My lips remain in a closed-mouth smile, and I stare ahead at nothing, not acknowledging him. “Do you like it?” he then asks quietly, holding it up to me in question.

I still don’t answer him.

The thing is, I do like it. A lot. But I’m feeling petty, and if he can ignore me, then I can, too.

Apparently, having had enough of my silence, Phoenix grips my chin and then slightly turns it as he leans down to talk softly in my ear in the guise of laying affection on me. “You want that tiny piece of fabric, Avery? Fine. But there is no fucking way you are leaving the apartment in it and letting any other man drool over you. I will be the only man who’s privileged to watch you prance around in it. Understood?”

My mouth dries over the fierce and commanding way he spoke, even in the softest of voices. That, along with his manly scent so close to me and the way his skin brushes against mine, almost has me acting foolishly and getting myself caught. I fill my lungs with air and release it slowly, turning my head as much as I can still within his grip.

“Yes,” I whisper back.

Pulling back, he nods once and then lays the dress over the growing pile of clothes stacked over his arm and continues on.

Chapter 22

Phoenix

I lean back in my chair with a frustrated sigh, glaring at the rendering on the screen. No matter what I do, I still can’t get the damn thing to look right.

Avery chooses that moment to stroll into my office, holding a mug of tea and wearing that fucking scrap of fabric we bought today, and I turn my glare onto her.

Her blonde hair floats down her back, tickling the curve of her ass, and her sexy as fuck bare legs lead down to feet fitted into strappy heels.

“What are you doing?” I snap.

She doesn’t pay me any mind as she walks around my desk and places the tea in front of me, bending slightly so the short dress rides up even further. My eyes strain to stay on her face instead of drifting down to her ass like they want to. I know she’s wearing that outfit on purpose, trying to get a reaction out of me. And that just pisses me off more.

She came into my life and changed up everything, causing me to be consumed with feelings that confuse me and don’t know how to handle. I’ve never felt anything like them before, nor do I even know what they are.

Yes, I want her body, but it’s more than that. She amuses me and infuriates me all in the same breath. She intrigues me and drives me crazy, and I want more of it.

That’s why I left her so suddenly last night. I am not an affectionate man, yet she had me wanting to cuddle her. I had tossed and turned all night feeling bad about it, only for her to add to the pile of guilt when she said she felt used this morning. That’s exactly what I tried to convince myself I had done – used her for sex only.

“Do you want me to do anything?” Running her eyes over my desk, she then stops on the screen of my laptop.

“No. Just go back in your room or something.”

Shooting me an annoyed glance over her shoulder, she returns her attention to the rendering. “Is this what you’re always working on?”

“One of the things.”

“Hmm,” she hums, still staring at it.

Why the fuck is she looking at it like that?

I push her to the side with the back of my hand and roll my chair forward. “I need to get back to work. Go change out of that dress.”

A sigh passes through her lips, and then she’s walking back out of my office and in the direction of her room, with my eyes following her every move. It’s not that I actually wanted her gone. It was quite the opposite, in fact. All I want now is to be around her.

For fuck’s sake, what is wrong with me? I didn’t even want a woman.

It’s my turn to sigh this time as I stare at the image on my laptop once again. I bet even she hated this abomination.

My eyes shoot back to the doorway when not even five seconds go by, and I see Avery passing by in the direction of the living room, still wearing the same thing.

My nostrils flare, and my heart pumps harder while my fingers twitch. It’s not just the dress that’s getting me riled up. Her complete disregard of my orders does it every time.

A minute later, a piano melody floats its way into my office. It’s not the one I’ve heard her play a few times now, but it’s no less beautiful. It’s something from the sheet music I have out there.

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