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My thrusts started, slow and easy, and my lips dipped to hers so I could kiss her. The kiss was more important than the union of our bodies below the waist. I focused on that, feeling her lips and the way they trembled, appreciating the little moans she made.
Her nails continued to slice into my back, digging so deep that the sweat poured in and burned. The anger from our conversation was long gone now that I was deep in the throes of passion with the only woman I wanted. Strangers had stayed in my bed in her absence, but they were all a means to an end. With Scarlett, I wanted to slow it down instead of rush to the finish line. I wanted to kiss her instead of choke her. I wanted to make her want me the way I wanted her.
19
SCARLETT
The guilt.
It was starting to eat me alive.
My father considered himself an intelligent man, but Axel was brilliant. His easygoing attitude and charming smile made him seem harmless, but underneath that warmth was a man who always stayed ahead of the game.
I meant what I’d said, that I needed more time to settle into our marriage before we consolidated additional aspects of our lives, but another part of me knew I also refrained because it was a temporary arrangement. That I’d only said yes, knowing there would be a way out sometime in the future.
Now I felt like shit about it.
I shouldn’t feel bad at all, not when he’d leveraged my family legacy against me to force me into marriage, a marriage I would have willingly committed to if he hadn’t broken my heart. But I did feel bad about it. Really bad.
Because I cared about him so much, as much as I’d always had.
Axel was gone, so I stopped by my father’s place. Guards still dotted the property, so that aspect hadn’t changed. I let myself inside, said hello to his assistant, and then saw my father in the study a moment later.
“Hello, sweetheart.” Our last conversation had been strained and contentious, but his affectionate warmth had returned as if it had never happened. “What a nice surprise.” He sat behind his desk and clicked his mouse a couple times, closing out of the windows on his screen before he gave me his full attention.
“I finished work early today. Thought we could get lunch.”
“That means Axel’s not home?”
“He’s usually gone most of the day. He leaves pretty early.”
“And where does he go?”
“He doesn’t tell me, and I don’t ask.” I had a feeling those types of questions would be unwelcome, especially after the fight we’d had.
My father ended that line of questioning. “Where do you want to go?”
“I always pick, Dad.”
“And that’s how it should be.” He rose from his chair. “So, where are we headed?”
“Pino’s? I’m in the mood for a sandwich.”
“A sandwich, it is.”
One of his drivers took us into town and dropped us off so we could walk the rest of the way, moving down the cobblestone street as others passed on foot or bicycle. We reached the little sandwich shop, a hole-in-the-wall but a famous spot, and we each got a huge sandwich we would never finish. We sat at a small table outside, pigeons dropping down whenever a crumb got loose.
My father took a big bite then wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“No salad today?” I teased.
He smirked then finished chewing. “Wasn’t an option.”
“Dad, you’re in great shape. You can get a sandwich once in a while.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “But once you’re my age, you’ll realize how few sandwiches you can eat.”
“Forty is the new thirty.”
“But it’s not the new twenty.”
We ate in silence for a while, enjoying the fat sandwiches that no one could eat on their own. Well, except Axel. That man ate more than anyone I knew, but he still had no body fat because of all those muscles. All those sexy muscles that drove me wild.
I tried not to think about it, especially when I was with my father. “How are things going with production?”
He finished his bite before he returned the half-eaten sandwich to the paper wrapping and wiped his fingers clean of the mustard stains. “As happy as I am that the business has expanded at such a quick rate, fulfilling the product demand is another story. My facility can only produce so much at the moment. It’s not easy hiring the right people. Not like I can post the job online or something. And getting the Colombians to sell me more product has its challenges.”
“What challenges?” I asked. “Their biggest account just got bigger.”
“They ask a lot of questions.”
“What kinds of questions?”
“They want to know why we suddenly need double the quantity overnight.”
“It’s none of their business.”
“I agree,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t curious.”
