A sigh shuddered out of me and trepidation fluttered deep inside me. It wasn't because of the forced marriage. After all, I wanted to marry Bas nine months ago. I was scared of seeing his father.
What if he tried something again?
My hands shook as I opened the fridge door. I stared at the contents, focusing on ingredients. Lots of fruit, pre-made pasta meals, almond milk, spinach, and Greek yogurt.
“Banana, blackberries, almond milk, spinach,” I muttered, forcing my mind away from the dark thoughts. “Banana, blackberries, almond milk, spinach.”
My stomach rumbled. I glanced over the door, in the direction of our bedroom and my lips curved into a smile. The idea hit me like a lightning bolt.
“Wakey, wakey,” I whispered gleefully. I stood at the island and pulled my hair into a messy bun, then started my search for a blender. “Aha,” I exclaimed quietly, careful not to wake up Bas… well at least not that way.
I peeled the bananas and tossed them into the blender. Then I washed blackberries, spinach, and added them into the blender. Almond milk followed, and with a wicked grin on my face, I pushed the on button.
The roaring blender filled the morning silence and I grinned as I listened to it grind. I could already picture Bas moaning and groaning, cursing the day he dragged me here.
Easily rectified, I mused to myself, keeping my finger on the ice crush button. But the tightness in my chest immediately followed. I loved him so much it freaking hurt. It was the kind of maddening love that ached, but you refused to let it go because it was part of your every breath. Every heartbeat.
A sharp sting on my butt cheek caused me to jump and I let go of the button to spin around. Of course, I knew it was him. Nobody else was here, but still my heart thundered in my chest.
Bas stood in the kitchen, two feet away from me, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs and his black hair tousled. His piercing gaze was glued to me and mine to his abs, covered with the kingpin skull tattoo along his right side. The tattoo I licked last night.
My cheeks heated and longing burned with an ache in the pit of my stomach. I burned for him with such a raw need that it scared me.
Well, this backfired rather quickly.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled, his eyes on me but something dark and all-consuming flared behind his eyes.
“Breakfast smoothie,” I breathed. “Want some?”
He should really put some clothes on and hide that body. His prancing around was cruel to weak women like me, tempting me. My palms remembered the feel of his abs, they itched to touch him again. I wanted to trail the line of hair below his navel with my fingers, feel his muscles tense and his control snap again.For me.
God, help me. He was turning me into a sex-crazed woman.
“Are you going to stare at me all day?” His voice was deep, sending shivers down my spine with a rough caress.
I swallowed, the heat rushing to my cheeks. Suddenly, my bright idea didn’t seem so bright, because seeing Bas in his boxers gave me different kinds of ideas.
The kind that would take us back to the bedroom.
* * *
Basilio drove his car with confidence and control. Just the way he fucked.
My pulse fluttered and a throbbing ache traveled between my thighs. This man would be the death of me, because all I could think and feel was him. So many unspoken words lingered in the air and I couldn’t find the beginning to start unraveling the past so we’d find ourselves back at the day when I fell into his arms.
The sun shone brightly and the air felt humid but we left the windows rolled down. He drove in silence and I couldn’t help flicking a gaze his way. Darkness glinted all around him, even under the bright rays of sun, but I couldn’t help but stare into it.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He just told me to put on a bathing suit and grab a beach towel, then left it at that. His head tilted to the side, meeting my gaze before returning it back to the road.
“Beach.”
I rolled my eyes. “I figured that when you told me to put my bathing suit on. But where?”
I looked at his profile and saw a small smile appear on his lips.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” he drawled.