But he cut off before I could finish my sentence. More excited and nervous than I had felt all day, I walked downstairs to find a black BMW waiting for me.
Chapter 8
Zayden
I kept checking the time at an alarming frequency. Tonight was going to be exciting. I had sent my entire staff home so it would be just me and Aria in this big house with so many rooms. And so many beds.
She didn’t know it yet, but I had already made the payment to her mother’s hospital bill earlier today. I wasn’t planning on telling her until later either. She needed to see the error in her ways and learn to never cross me like that again. The fear that I would maybe not make the payment at all should be an excellent way for me to regain the upper hand in this dynamic.
To my great disappointment, I realized that during the past month she had completely stolen that position from me. Asking to break the contract! Even though it had all turned out pretty well in the end, she had unintentionally manipulated me into making some big changes in my life. I didn’t remember the last time in my life somebody had had such a profound impact, and not necessarily in a positive way.
But it was all okay, because she would be here any minute, and I missed Aria far too much to waste the time pondering over my own mind games. Tonight was about reconciliation.
When the doorbell finally rang, I got up instantly to get it for her, and when I saw her I forgot almost everything, even my name.
“Your mouth is hanging open,” she said with a radiant smile, walking inside comfortably.
What? I couldn’t quite process anything that was happening or anything she was saying. All I knew was that Aria had somehow managed to get even hotter than I had ever seen her before – I didn’t even think that was possible – and all the blood in my body rushed away from my brain and everywhere else and deposited itself into my groin.
“Say something. You’re making me nervous,” Aria said, now sitting cross-legged on my couch. With those deep red stilettos, her legs looked like they were out of a fashion magazine catalogue. I just wanted to grab them, pull up her skirt, and take her right there.
“You look… exquisite,” I said, unable to find the perfect word to describe exactly how good she looked.
“You’re talking to my boobs?” she said following my gaze.
“No.” I was still glaring at them. “But sure, those too. Did they get bigger somehow?”
She chuckled girlishly. I had never quite seen her like this before, acting so feminine, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, wearing deep red stilettos!
“You’re trying to seduce me?” It wasn’t a question, as I realized what was going on, and couldn’t help feeling excited.
“Why on earth would I do such a thing?” She batted her eye-lashes innocently, playing with her hair.
“Why wouldn’t you?” I grinned. “You had some of Zayden and you just had to come and get more.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh, that’s how you want to play, then? Game is on.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said again, this time with a hint of a smile lingering around her lips. Her lipstick matched her shoes perfectly. I thought of how I would be smearing it up all over her face soon enough and felt myself getting hard.
“Are you hungry?” I said to change the subject, so that I didn’t give in to my temptations just yet. Although she would probably like that, the important thing here was to win, and it was getting increasingly difficult as her breasts were almost outside of her dress. I wanted nothing more than to kneel on the floor and suck them until she came.
“I am so, so hungry, not for food though,” she said with a look that made me almost change my mind about dinner.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said mimicking her and turned around to walk towards the kitchen. Looking at her was not going to help the situation in anyway wha
tsoever. “Follow me.”
Even the staccato sounds of her heels was increasing my desire so I walked as fast as I could, trying to think about dinner instead of the desert that was to come after.
“Where are we headed? Your house is huge!” I heard her exclaim behind me. “What mind-blowing concoction has your chef come up with today?”
“I sent him home,” I said causally, arriving at the kitchen and then turning to look at her. “I sent all the help home.”
“But dinner?” She screwed her mouth and then gasped. “You don’t expect me to cook, do you? I mean, well, I guess I could, but I am not dressed for that. I suppose I could change.”
“Aria, stop mumbling. We are grilling. Well, I am, outside on my balcony.”