Page 37 of Caesar DeLuca
“Ariana, enough. I’m taking you inside.”
Caesar takes control of the situation—he wraps an arm around my shoulders and steers me back inside the house. The door blows shut behind us with a hard thump. He brings me to the kitchen where we’ve binged on wine and pushes me onto the stool I was seated on earlier.
“Stay put.”
He returns to me only once he’s clutching a glass of water and a damp towel. The glass of water is brought to my lips.
“Drink.”
I do as I’m told and gulp down several sips.
“Good girl.”
My insides flutter at the praise. His husky tone. The sternness in his expression. All of it has me just as flustered as the wine.
He dabs the towel against my skin, taking the opportunity to study every feature I have. The coolness from the towel feels good, but the closeness between us only makes me hotter. I find myself peering into his eyes, noticing the slivers of inky black amid the vibrant blue.
“You’re drunk,” he says. “Which means I’m taking you to bed.”
I snort. “You’re drunk too.”
“No, I’ve been drinking. I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”
“You were propositioning me how many seconds ago?” I slur out, then realize I probably am a lot more intoxicated than I grasp. Noticing how far my nightshirt has ridden up my thighs, I rush to tug the fabric down.
“I was,” he admits. “Because I told you, I find you very attractive.”
“And what about now?”
“Now… you’re very drunk. Which, again, means I’m taking you to bed.”
I grab his hand, catching him as he dabs at my neck with the towel. “But what if the answer is yes?”
Ari, what the hell are you doing?! The answer is NO!
Go to bed!
Go. To. Bed. NOW.
He arches a brow, then he releases a lone chuckle. “The answer is yes, huh?”
“Mhmmm. Then what?”
“Then I’m taking you to bed. And hoping tomorrow the answer’s still yes.”
I’m not sure I have processed his answer before he’s guiding me out of the kitchen. We abandon the wine and head upstairs. We’re footsteps away from my bedroom when I realize he’s headed inside.
“Oh!” I squeak. “Wait… I don’t think…”
Caesar twists the knob and helps me into the room.
My sanctuary.
My most private space where no other human being has ever been. Not even Freddie has been inside my bedroom in this home. We’d broken up before I quit life and came to live so far removed from everyone.
As we wander into my bedroom, I’m eaten up by sudden excruciating humiliation.
I have bras and panties air drying. I have a meditation journal splayed open on my bed. A wig on display on my dresser.
