Page 110 of All The Happily Ever Afters

Her chest rises, and a deep blush blooms in her cheeks.

My phone rings again, interrupting the moment, and I don’t hide my annoyance.

“You’re a smart girl,” I compliment her as I press the ignore button on my phone, sending her father’s call straight to voicemail.

“If I’m smart,” she practically whispers, her delicate fingers gripping the edge of the leather. The seat protests as she readjusts, attempting not to squirm under my gaze. Licking her lips, she continues, “Then I should know this . . . trip to discuss terms is more than just a trip to discuss terms?” She says each word carefully, and only once she’s finished speaking, making her very true statement sound as if it’s a question, does she look me in the eye.

The air is thick between us. She already knows the answer.

There’s nothing else I want more, and there’s no way for her father, Maurizio, to pay.

A text comes through on my phone just as I decide a simple ‘yes’ will suffice. It halts my answer.

I stare down at the message from Alessio even though Belle’s gaze stays on me:

I’m not certain this is for your best interest.

My answer is immediate:

You said yourself, I’m viewed too harshly, too much of a beast. No one comes to us out of fear, and if I don’t soften, I’ll lose everything.

His answer comes just as quickly, and I ignore it as the red light in front of us changes to green.

You think blackmail and extortion is softening?

He can call it whatever he’d like. The men I deal with are weak when it comes to violence. Bloodstained streets is how I acquired a good portion of my wealth. They need to see me in a different light, and a woman like Belle by my side will do just that.

“Calum?” Belle whispers my name again, and I’m reminded of the strain against my zipper. Her red-stained lips are parted, and all I can envision is slipping my cock between them.

“Yes. This is much more than discussing terms. You’d be smart to know that,” I finally answer her, and this time when my phone vibrates, I simply turn the damn thing off.

ANNABELLE

My shoulders shake with a shuddering breath as the cold breeze from outside is quelled by the front door closing.

Calum’s estate is massive, and I stand in the grand foyer in awe.

Riches and wealth drip from every detail of the structure. Yet, it’s nearly empty, and the expansive room, heated by a crackling fireplace, still feels cold.

The thud of the locks behind me are what rip my attention away from the carved wood details of the double winding staircase and massive crystal chandelier that shines down from three stories up.

His large hand rests on the small of my back, just as it did when we left the party. Far too early and abruptly. I can only imagine what the host and guests think.

With Calum leading me, I walk forward, towards the warmth of the fireplace lined with slabs of dark stone that travel from floor to ceiling. I’ve never felt so small, surrounded by burgundy crushed-velvet furniture and the smell of polished hardwood.

Everything is clean, in its place, and luxurious.

A subtle change forces a small gasp from me. Calum’s hand slips from the small of my back to my hip and then slightly lower. Possessively and making no attempts to hide what he wants.

“Shall we have a seat?” he offers, but his gentlemanly question is laced with sin. His front presses against my back as his hand rests on my shoulder. I’m certain I can feel his length against my backside. Sucking in a sharp breath, I wish I could gather the courage to speak.

I’ve always been a bit too shy to go for what I want.

But that’s what led me here, to the mercy of this man. Listening, obeying.

The thought is what convinces me to turn where I am, still close enough to him that we touch, only this time, it’s my front to his. With his head lowered and mine raised, I ask him, lust coating my question, “Here then? On the sofa?”

His eyes flash with primitive need, and for a moment I know I’ve shocked him. He’s quick to regain his position, placing his hands on my hips, gently so.

---