Page 69 of Resisting Mr Black

“What is?”

“That we’ll end up in bed together.” He looks at me. “That day in the kitchen, I knew if I made a move, we’d probably end up fucking, most likely on the counter-top because I wouldn’t have been able to wait and I didn’t want it to be like that with you. I didn’t want to take what I wanted from you, then drop you. I didn’t want a quick fuck.”

He turns onto his side and props his head against his hand. “I’ve waited thirty years for you. I wanted everything to be perfect. And it is. You’re perfect and you’re mine.”

My heart twists at his words and as his dark, shimmering eyes hold mine, I know I’ve fallen hard for this man. “And you’re mine.”

He reaches out and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my left ear. “I want to spend the whole day with you, and tonight we’ll stay home and I’ll try to cook dinner.”

The idea of staying home with him and snuggling up on the sofa sounds like bliss. “I can’t tonight. It’s Martin’s sixtieth and I’m going out for a meal to celebrate, remember?”

He studies me for a long moment as if he’s deciding whether to say something, then shifts towards me, sliding his body on top of mine. He props his arms either side of my head and rests his thighs between my legs and I feel the tip of his cock brush against my labia.

He grazes his fingertips across my jaw as he stares down into my eyes. “I don’t want to share you with anyone,” he says softly. “And I know that’s unreasonable of me, isn’t it?”

“A little,” I admit as I idly trace my fingertips across his biceps and up across the firm muscles of his shoulders.

He brushes the tip of his nose against mine. “It’s what you do to me.” Dark eyes hold mine. “I worry that one day I’m going to wake up and you’ll be gone.”

My fingers snake their way through his thick hair. There’s a vulnerability to his voice I haven’t heard before that makes me want to kiss him and never stop. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiles. “Good, because—” He trails off, shaking his head as if he can’t finish the sentence and I really want him to.

Since he waltzed into my life, he’s taken centre stage, and we’ve been pretty much inseparable since we met. If I’m being honest, the thought of spending an evening without him fills me with an emptiness that I’ve never felt before.

The words spill from my mouth. “Do you want to come with me tonight?”

His face lights up. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’ve told you, I want to know everything about you.” He kisses me lightly on the lips. “Every… single… part.”

The rumble of engines from the street below, drifting through the open French doors, pulls me from my slumber. The late June sun beats through the open curtains and bathes the bedroom in sunny warmth as I push myself up on my elbows and scan the room. I’m alone, but a square piece of paper lies on the glossy, dark wood bedside cabinet. I reach over and pick up the note.

You looked beautiful sleeping, so I didn’t wake you. Gone for a run. Won’t be long. X

I grin as I put the note back down.

Yes, I could definitely get used to waking up like this every morning.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m showered and changed into light-blue denim jeans and a white t-shirt. I’m twisting my damp hair up onto my head in a bun when there’s a knock at the front door.

It can’t be Art because he’d have his key.

I head across the wooden floor into the hall and open the door.

It’s Tara. Every muscle in my body tenses. She’s dressed in sprayed-on jeans and a white, off-the-shoulder top. Her blonde tresses are swept up into a high ponytail, and she purses her lips at the sight of me.

What the fuck is she doing here again?

She doesn’t even try to hide her contempt as she rolls her eyes and looks behind me into the apartment. “Is he in?”

I fold my arms across my chest as she tosses out the words at me. “No.”

She heaves a sigh and inspects her cerise pink talons, looking thoroughly bored at the fact she’s having to speak to me. “When will he be back?”

“I have no idea.”

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