Page 81 of Call You Mine

She snaps out of it when I smirk, catching where her mind just drifted off to. “Bullshit. Ace won’t say a damn thing, and I know Willa wouldn’t have just walked away without getting what she came for.”

“Well, she did. I threatened her, let her know she’d regret coming back around and threatening you and she left, tail between her legs and all.”

Wynter’s hair is disheveled, like she let it loose and ran her fingers through it in frustration as she watched us from the back door slider. Her lips are plump and red from our heated kiss and I want nothing more than to take them in mine again, to watch how they stretch wrapping around my cock. “Damon, listen to me,” she cries out when she realizes I was entranced by her lips. “I’m not fucking stupid. I won’t just sit here and pretend that we’re talking about the same woman just giving up so easily.”

I take her hand in mine, bringing her closer to me until my lips fall against hers. But this time, it’s just a soft peck meant to silence her. “Just leave it alone, baby. Willa’s gone. She won’t be coming back. That’s all you need to know.”

I don’t driveus back to the house. I know if I do that, all she’s going to continue to do is ask questions I’m not willing to give her answers to. I could just answer back with the hundreds of questions I have running wild in my mind, especially after the seeds of doubt Willa just planted, watered, and is now watching sprout from the comfort of wherever she’s gone now that she’s twenty million dollars richer.

“Damon, where are we going?” Wynter asks, when she realizes we're headed in the opposite direction. I don’t immediately answer her, not until I’m pulling up to the valet of one of the best Italian restaurants in Hillcrest Hills, which is my favorite. Lasagna night at the foster house I grew up in was my favorite day of the month. I looked forward to it, even helped from time to time to prepare it though it never tasted as homemade and authentic as Domenico’s.

Clarissa brought me here once, shortly after we’d begun our arrangement. I hated going out with her in public, something we rarely did, but I sucked it up all because we were coming here and Luisa Domenico makes the best four cheese lasagna with a homemade Bolognese, a recipe that belongs to her great-great grandmother from Naples, Italy.

“Damon,” she calls out once more, but I simply exit the car and hand my keys to the valet, his partner opening Wynter’s door as I make my way around to her side. “Damon, I’m not dressed for Domenico’s,” she mutters under her breath. Ithink about ignoring her, but I’d really hate for her to feel embarrassed because she’s not dressed up enough for this five-star establishment.

I could give a shit about what she’s wearing. To me the short shorts and practically see thorough top are sexy as fuck, and I doubt they’d deny her entry given I’ve become great friends with the owner Luisa, but I’d hate for her to feel uneasy throughout dinner.

My gaze moves across the street to a small boutique namedLola’s. Without warning, I grab her hand and drag her with me across the street and up to the store that has exactly what I’m looking for.

“Here,” I tell her, stopping right at the front window display. There’s a red dress, the bodice fitted tight around the manikin and softly flowing out at the skirt. It’s sexy and something I’d definitely enjoy seeing worn on Wynter’s body. “That one. Go put that one on.”

She stares at me bewildered, but doesn't move. “You’re kidding me right?” she asks, but I simply tug her arm as I open the door and lead us both inside.

It’s fairly empty, just a few women shopping lonesome and a group of teenage girls giggling in the back as they try on some dresses that look like they could be for prom.

I lead us over to the woman standing behind the front counter and point to the dress I want displayed on the manikin. “We’ll take that one. The red one hung up on the window.”

“Damon,” Wynter whines, annoyed by my demands and lack of small talk. The woman nods and motions for her coworker to grab the dress and bring it over to us. It’s the perfect size. I obviously knew it would be. I know every single one of Wynter’s curves and could tell you with my eyes closed the exact measurements of her body.

The woman, Gina, scans it and packs it up for me in a sleek gold bag with the shop’s name written on the front. “That will be two hundred and fifty dollars.” I look down at Wynter’s feet and notice she’s wearing a pair of cute, strappy silver sandals. “We’ll take whatever pair of heels you think matches the dress too, size seven.”

“Damon,” Wynter squeals, not sounding incredibly frustrated with my lack of tact. Gina does as I ask, ringing up a simple pair of black heels with a thin strap that wraps around the ankles. They’re perfect and I’m nearly salivating at the thought of how this is all going to look on my girl.

“Total is now,” she looks down at the register. “Five hundred and eighty dollars.” How the fuck are the shoes more expensive that the dress? I brush it off and hand Gina my credit card, shaking my head when she wraps up the shoes. “No need. She’ll be wearing them out.”

Gina nods and hands me the dress and shoes. I turn around to Wynter as she finishes ringing me up. “Go.” I motion for the dressing room in the back of the store. For a second I think she’s going to object, her defiant nature getting the best of her, but she doesn’t. Wynter simply grabs the dress and shoes from me and stalks off toward the dressing room, a little extra pep in her step as she walks away from me, her ass swaying and making my dick incredibly hard.

“Here you go, Mr. Drake,” Gina calls out, handing me back my card and a pen to sign the receipt. As I set the receipt down on the glass counter, I notice a beautiful diamond necklace beneath it in the glass case. It’s stunning, simple and delicate, yet incredibly elegant with a design I’ve never quite seen before. Beside it are a few diamond rings of various sizes, engagement rings by the looks of it and my stomach recoils at the sight.

“See anything else you like?” Gina asks, the insinuation in her tone apparent. “Add the necklace, this one.” I point to itand she nods, running my card once more. After a few minutes, I thank her and walk over to the front of the shop to wait for Wynter to finish getting dressed.

A few more minutes go by, and I can feel the moment she approaches. The air around y grows thick with tension and my body buzzes with anticipation. Slowly, I turn and look at her. The gleaming lights of the shop above illuminate her gorgeous figure.

The sun is setting, yet the woman before me is as radiant as the sun at its highest and brightest peak in the sky. Gleaming like a full moon amidst the darkness of the night, twinkling like every single star on a clear night.

My breath hitches and I can see the effect this magnetic force between us has on her too, as her chest rises and falls with her labored breathing. “You look fucking breathtaking.” Her cheeks flush, the pretest tint of pink flashing across the bridge of her nose as she shyly looks down at the small box in my hands.

“Is that for me too?” she asks, though she doesn't sound like the same confident woman she was just hours ago as her gaze flicks back up to mine. The lust reflected in her gorgeous eyes almost takes me out and I have to reach for her to ensure she’s real and not just some figment of my wildest fantasies.

“Turn around.” She obeys and I take the thin delicate strand of diamonds and slowly place it over her neck, my fingers lightly grazing the skin of her nape as I secure it. It falls along her collarbone, instantly glistening in the room, which is romantically dim.

Wynter immediately turns back to me and an unreadable expression on her face as she wraps her arms around her neck and kisses me. This kiss is soft and slow, nothing like the ones we’ve had before. There’s no urgency, no desperate need to taste and devour one another. No, this was a simple thank you, a testament to what this insignificant gesture meant to her. Of what it meant for me to stand up for her and protect her againstthe woman who threatened to hurt her. This is a thank you for whatever I’d done to get Willa to walk away.

It’s too much, the thing in my chest aching to make sure she never feels scared or angry or hurt. I don’t know what it means. I don’t understand how I am supposed to feel. All I know is I want to bottle up this exact moment between us and hold on to it forever. Because I fear what’s coming will erase everything about it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

WYNTER

---