Blackmailing the Virgin (Promises 2)

His movements are abrupt and fast, but his eyes are soft. Filled with concern.

“Tell me. Tell me what you wanted. What were your plans?” His voice is just as soft as the look on his face.

“I thought you made our plans already. What does it matter now?”

“You want me.”

I narrow my eyes at his cocky words.

“Hell. I wanted you, too. Why else would I come crawling into your bed?”

“Because the word is I’m easy.” There I go again, not holding anything back.

“I was a dick. I was pissed and jealous. Mad at myself for not finding you sooner. I hated the thought that there could have been men before me who had the chance to steal you from me. I was even more pissed because I thought you might move on to someone else. I’m fucking sorry for that. I should have known. I could taste your innocence that first night I kissed you on the balcony. There was no faking that. I felt it deep, but it just seemed too good to be true. I hadn’t had anything sweet in my life in years and there it was again. I was fucking shit-scared it would be taken from me.”

“That was really sweet.” I have to admit, when he throws these little tantrums over my attention or being jealous, a little part inside me gets a thrill from it. I know part of him cares.

“Tell me.” He leans in a little more as if he can’t wait to hear what I have to say. “You want to play your violin? I won’t stop you. Your own studio? I’ll build you one. Just tell me what you want, sweetheart, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I wanted to be in love when I got married. Then have babies and all that. Everything is just backwards.”

“You do love me,” Calder growls.

I just roll my eyes.

“Say it.” I can’t count how many times he’s made me say it now. He never says it though.

“I love you,” I tell him. I know he won’t stop until I say it, and it’s true. I just can’t bring myself to say it on my own. Maybe because he doesn’t love me.

His body visibly relaxes. I almost feel like he might be starved of love. It reminds me how little I know about him. Calder has told me nothing of his family. I only know his parents both died seven years ago because I read it online during my internet stalking of him.

“Let me show you, baby. Don’t fight me every step. I can talk till I’m blue in the face and say sorry over and over until I’m hoarse for the way I acted, but let me show you. Give this a chance. You’ll see I’ll give you anything you could ever want. Will you do that?”

“Okay.” What do I have to lose? It’s clear he isn’t letting me go.

He leans the rest of the way in, taking my mouth in a deep kiss. One of his hands comes to my belly, rubbing the little bump. Then he slides me off the counter. My legs go around his waist as he carries me down the hall and into the bedroom, laying me on the bed.

I think he is going to make love to me again, but he slides off the bed and removes my shoes before disappearing into the bathroom and coming back with a bottle of lotion in his hands.

“I read that it will help with swelling if I rub your feet regularly.”

“You read?” I can’t help but giggle.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I might have stayed up reading as much as I could. I know nothing about babies and pregnancy. I was an only child.” He sits down at the end of the bed, pulling my feet into his lap.

“Do you think we should move? The market is good right now. We could sell this place. Unless you want to keep it. It’s close to your father. Or maybe we could sell this and get one in your father’s building and one out of the city.”

“It’s your place. I’m okay with whatever.” I hadn’t really thought about where we should live. But there really hasn’t been much time with as fast as everything has happened.

“I think if you want to do your own little studio, we should have something here in the city and some place outside.”

“I’m not in a rush to do anything with a studio, to be honest. It was just an idea I was toying with because I needed to do something, and I love kids. Now I kind of want to focus on this one.” I rub my belly, making him smile. “Besides, this is your place. It’s really up to you what you want to do.”

“It’s ours,” he corrects. “We’re married now.”