True Colours:The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2(39)

'For good?' I gasp, fighting against the flood of warmth in my core.

'Oh yes. Now, hold tight.'

I have just enough time to wrap my arms around his shoulders when he  begins to thrust, drawing out to the hilt and pounding back into me,  knocking the air out of my lungs.

I'm determined to get at least one thing my own way. 'If it's for good,  you'd better tell me you love me. Mr Sun says you've got to.'

'He's not the boss of me.'

Again, he pulls back and rams inwards, setting my insides on fire. At  this rate I'll be a brainless, groaning wreck within a minute. I'm going  to have to work fast.         

     



 

'No, I'm the boss of you.' I reach up and grab a handful of hair. 'Say it.'

'Well  … ' His eyes sparkling, his fingers tightening around my thigh, he drives into me again. 'I love your skin.'

I let out a tiny, involuntary yelp of delight before gathering enough wits to battle on.

'That's not enough.'

'And your tight little cunt.'

'Filth.'

'And your tits.' With a grin, he drives again. 'I love every last bit of your body. I love tasting it. I love fucking it.'

'How romantic.'

'Not enough?'

'No.'

Digging his head into my neck, he picks up the pace, increasingly breathless, pushing out his next statements between thrusts.

'I love spanking your backside  …  I love making you come  …  I love fucking your arse.'

My muscles clench. I'm already teetering on the edge, and so is he.  Putting a temporary stop on the list of things he loves about me, he  tightens his grip again and pounds into me relentlessly.

'Fucking hell,' he rasps at last.

Sensing the moment, I let go, digging my fingers into his broad  shoulders and groaning in pure ecstasy as I contract around him. A flood  of warmth pulsates through my crotch, and I'm spent. I've had it. I'm  done. In a state of pure bliss, I relax into his arms.

'I love that.' He slows the pace, wrestling his breath back under  control and leaning his forehead against mine. 'I love the fact that we  come together.'

At last, he withdraws, tucks away his cock and zips up his trousers.  Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he sets about cleaning me up.

'I love wiping my cum from you.'

I lean down, scooping up my combats and the latest pair of ruined knickers.

'I love the fact that you love all this stuff,' I inform him, pulling on  the combats and stuffing the knickers into my pocket. 'But it's still  not enough.'

'Okay,' he sighs. 'I love the fact that you leave the top off the  toothpaste, that you can't cook to save your life, that you leave your  clothes all over the bedroom floor. Still not enough?'

'No,' I smile.

He takes his phone from his pocket and taps in a contact.

'I love your eyes.' He raises the mobile to his ear. 'They're so green.  What colour eyes do you think our kids are going to have?'

'Stop it.'

A muffled voice interrupts the conversation.

He replies. 'Dave. Fix the lift.'

Almost immediately, we begin to move. Depositing the phone back in his  pocket, he folds his arms, leans against the opposite wall and studies  me.

'So that's it?' I ask. The lift doors open at the twelfth floor. Mrs  Kavanagh enters, stops in her tracks and backs out again. The doors  close and we continue downwards.

'I love the fact that you're incredibly talented.'

'And?'

'I love your spirit.'

The doors open again. He shakes his head at a man. The doors close.

'Just fucking say it, Dan.'

'I love your potty mouth. You swear like a navvy.'

'Still not enough.'

He smiles and shakes his head.

'Okay. I love your intelligence, your wit, your sense of humour.'

This time, the lift continues uninterrupted. He watches as the numbers count down.

'I love the fact that you love me, in spite of everything I've done.' As  if he's wafting away everything he's done, he waves a hand. 'And now I  think about it, I love the idea of you being my wife.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Yes, that's definitely the way ahead.'

'But  … '

The lift judders to a halt. We're at the ground floor. The doors slide  open. Before I know it, I'm tugged away from the wall and propelled out  into the lobby while Dan stays put.

'Oh, and Maya!' he calls. 'One last thing!'

I stagger to a halt and turn, just as the doors begin to close.

'I love you.'





Chapter Seventeen


Fiddling with the dress, I rearrange it for the umpteenth time. Eight  thousand eight hundred pounds' worth of black silk, very badly laced up  at the back. But what am I supposed to do? Arriving home nearly half an  hour late, Dan greeted me with a quick kiss, apologised and jumped  straight into the shower, leaving me to struggle into the dress by  myself, nearly dislocating both arms in the process. I stare at myself  in the mirror. The low neckline reveals far too much of my cleavage, and  the whole thing is threatening to come away at any minute. At least  I've managed to tweak my hair into an up-do and apply the usual  smattering of make-up. And then there's the Tiffany necklace, resting  against my chest.         

     



 

I don't hear the en-suite door open. He slips into view behind me,  stunning in his black dinner jacket, his hair still a little damp, his  bow tie undone. He curls his hands around my waist, drawing me in tight  and I drink in his scent.

'You look amazing,' he murmurs against my neck.

'It's too loose,' I murmur back. 'I can't reach the laces.'

Releasing me, he steps back and inspects my handiwork.

'Mmm,' he muses. 'It does look like it's been done up by a two-year-old.'

He sets about tightening the bodice.

'Did you paint today?' he asks.

'A bit.'

In fact, in between my trip to Fosters and getting ready for the big  night out, I managed another four hours, concentrating on the right hand  panel, adding colour and depth and definition, choosing from a range of  blues: Prussian, cerulean, cobalt. After Dan's admission, it was the  obvious way to go. I spent the afternoon in the company of sheer  pleasure.

'So, did you have a good day at work?' I ask casually.

'Fine.' He shrugs, re-threading a lace. 'The usual. Sealed a big deal  with a Chinese billionaire. Fucked a beautiful woman in the lift.'

And told her you love her, I'd like to add. Those three little words  have been hanging around in my brain all afternoon, teasing me and  causing my stomach to trip over itself. And I want to hear them again. I  can only hope he's forgotten the weird marriage proposal bit. No way am  I ready for that.

'You love me then?' I venture.

'Looks like it.' Still focussed on the lacework, his blue eyes dance.

'Since when?'

'Oh, I don't know. Monday the twentieth of June. About two o'clock in  the afternoon. There, that should do it.' He pats the dress and slides  his arms back around my waist, smiling at me in the mirror while I  process this new information. That was the first day I showed up at  Fosters.

'Love at first sight?'

'If you like.'

I grin like a prize idiot.

'Say it again.'

He leans in, his mouth next to my ear. 'I love you,' he whispers. 'I'm in love. With you.'

I'm reeling again. It was one thing having those words fired at me from  behind a closing lift door, but now he's standing behind me, his blue  eyes flashing with delight, I'm in Wonderland. That's the second time  I've heard those words from his disgustingly wonderful mouth. It makes  my heart trip, and I'm pretty sure it always will.

'Aren't you supposed to  … ' He straightens up. 'Say it back?'

I gather my senses. 'Oh that. Yes. I love you too.'

'So, we're in love?'

'Yup.'

'It's a nice feeling. I've never felt it before and I'll never feel it again. Not with anyone else. You're definitely the one.'

'I am?'

'Oh yes.'

'That's nice.'

'It is. In fact, I love you so much, I'd do anything for you.'

'Flash your cock at Mrs Kavanagh.'

'First thing Monday morning.' He grins. 'And you should do anything for me. It's only right.'

'Okay  … '

He stares at me. Don't say it, I will him silently. Don't go there. Not yet. It's madness.

'Marry me.'

And oh, he's done it. Bugger. He hasn't forgotten the weird marriage  proposal bit at all. I'd better knock this on the head, and quickly too.

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Because you're going too fast. Again.'

'Oh come on, Maya. It's the next logical step.'

'And it can wait.'

'Why?' he demands. 'I've done the small talk thing. I've done the big  talk thing. I've given you stuff. I've told you I love you. What more do  I have to do?'

Sort your shit out. That's what I'd really like to say. If you want me  to face my demons, then you can face your own while we're at it. But  this isn't the right moment to open up yet another can of worms. It's  his birthday, we're off to a party and he's in a good mood. And I'm not  about to ruin any of that. Instead, I go for an easy answer.

'Be patient and wait.'

He rolls his eyes.

'It's going to happen.' He smiles, one of his slow languid specials. 'I'll drag a yes out of you soon enough.'

'Try your best.'

'I will.' He gives me a mischievous grin. 'And now I've got a little  present for you.' Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a little  black box. It must be the same box he took delivery of this morning. My  stomach lurches. Good God, no. Don't let that be an engagement ring.