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“Why am I so nervous?”
Paisley grins at me in the reflection of the mirror. She’s on my bed with her feet in the air and her head perched on her hands. “Uh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re going on a date with a mobster who basically broke into your home with his mobster friends to install a security system.”
I spin around to face her and roll my eyes. “He didn’t break in. You were here. And those other guys aren’t in the mafia.”
She raises her eyebrows and looks at me like I’ve grown an extra boob. “Defending him already. That’s good. It will come in handy when you are questioned by the cops.”
“I’m not going to get questioned by the cops. And I’m not defending him. I’m just…”
“You’re just already falling for him and want a piece of that dick he’s probably swinging around like a baseball bat.”
God bless America. I love Paisley. I do. But she’s so damn blunt sometimes and usually right, and I hate it.
“I’m not in love with him. I like him. And I feel safe with him, you know?”
“Hey, if you can get past all his red flags, I can too. Red flags, where? All I see is green,” she says with a grin. “Besides, even though I’ve never met your brother, you’ve told me how protective he is, so I trust that he wouldn’t let Bash date you if he felt it was dangerous. Which, if you ask me, is pretty damn hot. Hey, is your brother as hot as Bash?”
I giggle and roll my eyes. “I don’t look at my brother that way, but women seem to ogle him whenever we’re in public, so I’d guess the answer is yes.”
Paisley hums and taps her finger on her chin. “Maybe I need to meet him. Is he a Daddy, though? I mean, if his best friend is, then he might be too, right?”
Just the word Daddy makes my skin heat. Bash keeps referring to himself as Daddy, and the things it does to me are sinful. Last night, I wore the batteries out on my vibrator after I got home. I don’t know what it is about calling a man Daddy—or him calling himself that—but it makes me squirmy and hot. Especially because with Bash, I don’t think it’s just a name for him. It’s the way he is. He takes care of everything, and in his own fucked up way, he goes out of his way to make me happy. The fact that he remembered what dress I wore to dinner a year ago says a lot about him. He pays attention. I have a feeling if I become the center of that attention, he won’t miss a thing.
I look at my reflection in the mirror and smooth my hands down my front. After our text conversation, I was relieved because I didn’t have to fret over what to wear. He told me exactly what he wanted and despite me being sassy with him all the time, I want to please Bash. In more ways than one.
“You look so damn adorable. You should put your hair up in some space buns with bows. It would match your dress, and Daddy would probably love it.”
“Don’t call him Daddy,” I bite out before I think better of it.
Paisley giggles. “Calm your tits. I’m kidding. Obviously, he’s your Daddy. I just like saying Daddy. I haven’t been able to call anyone that in forever.”
With a sigh, I sit on the edge of the bed and lean into her shoulder. “I know. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m not normally so jealous.”
“Maybe it’s because you actually have real feelings for him, unlike the other idiots you’ve dated.”
She isn’t wrong. I don’t think I’ve ever had feelings for a guy like I have for Bash. It’s kind of terrifying. My brain tells me to proceed with caution while my body tells me to dive in headfirst. Then there’s my heart. That one isn’t telling me anything. Nope. Instead, it’s hoping that Bash will keep me in the safety of his bubble, love me unconditionally, and take care of me in a way I never got from my father. Stupid hearts. Always hoping.
After I woke up from my nap, I stayed buried under the covers for a long time and let my thoughts run wild. Memories of my childhood. Of my mom. I miss her so much. She was always the peacekeeper in the house. She shielded me as much as she could from my father’s harsh words. Then she would make excuses for him. Usually, those excuses consisted of him being stressed at work. And he wonders why I didn’t want to become an attorney. Too late for that now, though. Like an idiot, I let him make that choice for me. Because stupid me, I wanted to get his approval just once. A simple, I’m proud of you or you’re doing a great job. I don’t think I ever heard those words out of his mouth.
I didn’t get out of bed until Paisley bounded into my room and told me to get my ass in the shower and scrub your coochie, so you can be prepared to be ruined by Bash’s cock. Her words. Not mine. It made me laugh, though, which is what I needed.
Now, the situation with my father is mostly at the back of my mind, and all my nervous energy is focused on the fact that I have a date…in less than ten minutes. I shake my hands and take a few deep breaths, hoping my racing heart will stop pounding so damn hard. It’s Bash. I know him. Sort of.
The doorbell rings, startling me. Paisley practically leaps off the bed in a blur of black and runs out of my room to answer it. Bash isn’t the kind of man to text me from the car. He’s nothing like any other man I’ve met. My core clenches. Am I ready for this?
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I gasp and spin around. Bash takes up the entire doorway, his gaze sparkling as he looks at me. He’s gotten a fresh haircut and trimmed his beard, so the lines are sharp and clean.
“I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things in my life. Diamonds. Rubies. Sunrises and sunsets. Marriages. And not one of those things comes close to how breathtaking you are.”
My knees wobble, and my shoulders relax, all the anxiety about the evening ahead floating away. I’m breathless as I stare up at him. I try to swallow, but my mouth is so dry I can’t quite seem to accomplish that.
He pushes off the door frame and comes to me. As though he can’t stop himself, he cups the back of my neck and pulls me toward him until our lips are locked together and he’s exploring my mouth like a starved animal. I whimper and moan like a cat in heat, but the way I’m feeling right now, I might as well be. My panties are drenched, and my clit has a pulse.
When he pulls back, his fingers tighten on my neck as he stares down at me. Gold flecks dance in his irises. Using his free hand, he runs his thumb under my mouth.
“I didn’t mean to fuck up your lipstick, but I needed to kiss you.”
