Page 14 of Three More Shots
Before I can stop her, she swipes the container off the table and then grabs a box of plastic wrap from the cabinet under the sink, already deciding in her mind that the matter is closed. I stride toward her and curl my fingers over her small hand, stopping her from unrolling the spool. “No need. I have my housekeeper ordering groceries for you. They should deliver in the next hour or so.”
Her shoulders droop. I know what she’s thinking, or at least some version of what she’s thinking since she’s so damn independent. “I’m paying for them and you’re accepting them. That’s final.”
“But it’s wrong.”
Fuck the fucking fuck. This woman is more stubborn than I am, and now it’s me who chooses his words carefully due to her little one sitting four feet away. “It’s not wrong. You need healthy food just as much as your daughter does, and if I’m going to invite myself to dinner, then I want more than just brown water.”
That assertion induces agreement out of her, and I don’t want to, but I release her so she can return the box to the cupboard, smiling at me while she glides open a drawer and pulls out a butter knife. Cute as fuck when she cuts the sandwich and offers me half. I tap my bread to hers and take a bite. Happy for her calm demeanor, but even happier that more food is coming. Beating that dumb ass made me hungry, and this sure as hell isn’t enough.
She glances at Ainsley, who intently makes three rows of matching fruit on her placemat. “The doorbell is going to ring in a little bit because Steele ordered more food. You can help me put it in the refrigerator when it gets here if you want.”
No response. Corinne doesn’t seem bothered by the silence. Instead, she turns to me and leans closer, which I definitely like. “It helps to prepare ahead of time for unexpected things so it’s not so upsetting when it happens.”
I nod. Easy enough. We both laugh when Ainsley slurps her soup, which makes her repeat the noise louder and more obnoxiously, hoping for our encouragement of her antics. Normal kid stuff, it seems.
“Can I watch Paw Patrol now?”
Corinne peruses her daughter’s plate to ensure it’s empty and nods. “Yes, but take your stuff to the sink first please.”
Obedient and cheerful, Ainsley hops up and carries her dishes to the kitchen, leaving a trail of condensation from her water glass in her wake that Corinne quickly jumps up to clean.
“Mommy and Steele are going to finish eating, so if you hear the doorbell first, let me know.”
“Okay, and then I’ll help you.”
This time she actually answers as she runs passed us and drags a small pink rocking chair from the corner that she positions in front of the TV. Her tiny fingers maneuver quickly over the remote buttons. When a cartoon fills the screen, a smile lifts her cheeks.
With her occupied, Corinne joins me at the table again and relaxes against her chair too, smiling her dazzling smile I see too rarely at me. Beautiful and serene. “Paw Patrol and peanut butter and jelly. It doesn’t get much better than this.”
It’s easy to laugh along with her. Oddly, I don’t mind the simple pleasures of the evening. Way better than working alone in my office like I normally do most nights. “I’m not sure I can stand the excitement.”
“Well, pretty soon I’m going to wash the dishes and start the laundry, so you'll really be in for a treat.”
The door of opportunity opens wider, so I might as well try to slide through. “If you move in with me, Mrs. Davis will do all of that for you.”
Now she really laughs, loud and bubbly, as if she thinks I’m kidding. A reminder that she doesn’t know me well enough to know how serious I am. “I mean it. I have a huge house and a pool. Ainsley would love it.”
“Of course, she would.” Corinne stacks her silverware on her plate and rises, shaking her head, but luckily still smiling. Grinning with amusement rather than agreement, which I don’t like. “But you are utterly crazy for thinking we would actually move in with you.”
The dismissive tone flames my instinct to dominate her – imprison her sweet ass away in my house and never let her go. But this situation demands a delicacy that I’m not used to. Convincing her requires negotiation, which I normally don’t like or allow. How did this woman get me so damn twisted up? “Earlier you said you would consider it.”
Her effortless laugh floats through the air again. “Yes, I was going to consider maybe a loan or something to get us into a better apartment, not move into your house.”
A fucking loan. She’s out of her mind if she thinks that’s the best I can do. Playtime is over. I hop up and stalk to her, spinning her around from filling the sink with soapy water. My caveman tendencies growl to life from her shriek of surprise, her graceful hands on my biceps, her face shining up to me as I lock her down with my fingers tangled in her hair. “I want you in my life, which means in my house, and in my bed.”
“Why would you want that?”
I hate the implication from her question. That she’s not enough for a man to want. That her struggles with her child aren’t worth working with her to help navigate the challenges. “Because you being beast enough to take care of her and yourself fucking impresses the hell out of me. You don’t need me to take care of you because you’ve done a kick-ass job yourself. You're not a princess who needs rescuing, but I want to take care of you anyway because I can.”
“I’mthe beast?”
With her trapped in my clutches, she makes a good point. “You’re the beauty.”
My cock, wedged between our bodies, agrees. The flush across her cheeks confirms she feels him too. But I’ll be damned she doesn’t look away this time. Doesn’t shrink under my gaze, which is hotter than fuck too. I like that she’s more confident with me. I tip down slowly and brush my lips against hers, tasting a hint of tart strawberry jelly from our sandwiches. “I’m only going to let you go because Ainsley’s here. Otherwise, I’d lay you back on the counter and fuck you so hard your neighbors would call the cops from your screams.”
Fuck me if she doesn’t strain upward to press her mouth to mine. This woman is going to destroy me. I plunge inside for the taste I need to keep going. She answers, open and accepting, while I grind my dick into her stomach. Her hip bones dig into my thighs from the exertion. I force myself to stop when she moans around my tongue. I won’t be able to control myself much longer, whether her daughter’s here or not.
We pant together for a few seconds, and I love her unfocused gaze as she swallows. “I guess we can date and see how it goes.”
