Not-So Temporarily Married(34)
Eventually, she fell asleep and I was pleased to see her getting more rest. The purple hue I’d seen under her eyes that morning indicated how little rest she’d been getting. I hated to wake her, but we switched out vehicles in Mount Vernon.
She was quiet for the rest of the relatively short drive, but when I pulled up in front of my apartment, she shook her head and gave me an address in the Bronx. “If you’ll take me, I’d appreciate it. It’s been a long couple of weeks and I’d rather not have to traipse up there on the train.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And, why exactly would I be taking you there?”
“I’ll stay there for now. I know it’s safe.”
I gritted my teeth, deciding which ludicrous idea I was going to approach first. “Let’s get something straight, right now, Carly. You are not to go anywhere without me or the handful of Nic’s men I will allow to protect you if I need to be away from you. As I cannot protect you if you aren’t with me, your sexy ass will be living in my house.”
She tried to speak, but I railroaded right over her objections. “This is not a democracy, babe. When it comes to your safety, I am in charge. This is not up for debate.” I turned fully to face her, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Not that it truly matters since you won’t be stepping foot in that place, but how do you know it’s safe?”
“A friend of a fri—”
“Of a friend of a friend,” I finished for her dryly. “This Mac Thomas guy again?” My tone was low with warning.
“Sort of,” she hedged.
“Carly,” I ground out, my gut telling me that I was going to hate her answer, which fueled my ire. “I swear to St. Bonaventure, if you do not tell me the truth right now, I’ll take you to bed and drive you to the peak of orgasm over and over again. But, I won’t let you come until you’re begging for release and ready to tell me anything I want to know.”
Chapter 4
Carly
“Umm.”
Yeah, that was my response. In my defense, I really didn’t know what to say. Hell, I didn’t even know if he’d just threatened me or promised me a good time. My mind went with the threat theory, but my body was another story. If my damp panties were any indication, I was more than up for some of his sensual torture. Either way, this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have while sitting in his car on the street.
“Can you hold that thought until we’re in your apartment?”
“As long as you understand I’m likely to take every moment I wait for an answer out of your hide,” he grumbled, climbing out of the car.
I giggled, literally, like a schoolgirl, while he walked around to open my door. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on me to cause pain, not after the sick look he’d had on his face when I described my childhood. I also didn’t have any doubt that he’d find a way to make me pay with pleasure. I should probably be afraid of the fact that I was actually looking forward to his efforts, but I was starting to get used to the way he made me feel things I’d never experienced before. It was addictive, this rush of emotion I felt whenever he was around. So was seeing the smirk he flashed my way as he helped me out of the car.
“How can I be frustrated as fuck one minute and want to laugh right along with you the next?”
His question was a deep purr in my ear which made my laughter die in my throat while I shivered at the goosebumps he caused instead. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one acting completely out of character.”
He tugged my hand, leading me into his building and down a small hallway. “Or maybe this is exactly how we’re supposed to be—you and I are better people because we found each other.”
Seriously, how the hell was I supposed to protect my heart from a hot as fuck guy who said shit like that? It was impossible not to melt while my panties spontaneously combusted.
“Brandon,” I sighed.
“Carly,” he breathed, his lips swooping down to claim mine as he stopped in front of the door on the left.
His kiss fogged my brain, and I didn’t notice him unlocking the door until he ushered me inside. How the hell he managed that while kissing the fuck out of me was a mystery. The man had serious skills, that was a fact. I didn’t have the chance to properly appreciate his apartment. I caught glimpses of black leather furniture, gleaming chrome accents, and dark wood touches as he ravaged my mouth again while shuffling me into his bedroom. Or at least, what I assumed was his bedroom because of the king-sized bed with the masculine comforter that he picked me up and tossed me onto.