I wasn’t happy with a man who gaslit me into thinking everything I did was a mistake, only to apologize as if it never happened. I wasn’t happy with a man who complimented me or spoke nicely about me only when it was convenient for him. I wasn’t happy with an impatient, degrading, misogynistic man who could barely last ten minutes in bed.I wasn’t happy.
Stepping into Beckham’s house, I watched as he placed my bag down and continued walking me into his studio home. Already waiting on his dining room table was our dinner, arranged with care.
A bottle of red wine rested on a marble tray beside a basket of artisan bread. Two thick-cut and perfectly seared ribeye steaks rested on porcelain plates beside a generous serving of creamy garlic mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies with lemon zest. Everything still steamed, like it had just left the hands of a private chef moments ago.
How he managed to call in his personal chef and assistant to make this dinner possible was beyond me. But he found a way… he would always find a way.
I watched as he placed my bag down by the steps, and slowly, he stepped behind me. As he pulled my jacket off of my shoulders, I sighed internally as he placed a few rather sensual kisses on my neck and shoulders.
His hands ran down my arms gently, and I gulped as he entangled my left hand in his. Slowly, he pulled off my ring, and a weird feeling of liberation seemed to come over me.
A fresh wave of heat rolled through me as he set it down.
“Tonight… it’ll just be about us. No doubts, no hesitation, just us,” he whispered in my ear, and I bit my lip as he placed another small kiss on my neck.
He walked me over to the table before pulling a seat out. He sat; and then another blush found my face as he directed me over by the hand to sit in his lap.
“Come here, Flower.”
His voice was steady, like it wasn’t a request at all.
Before I could respond, his hands were on my waist, settling me into his lap like Ibelongedthere.
I couldn’t recall the last time Gavin had taken me on a date that I enjoyed. Usually, my enjoyment for the night would wear off sometime during the date as we would either argue about my work or about me being too busy… but I always blamed our fights, his neglect, or his oversight of my feelings on his stress at work. At least, that’s what he would use as his excuse when he came to me and “apologized” for his behavior.
Though I was hesitant about staying so close to Beckham, I hated admitting how good he made me feel today. How he listened to me. How he never dismissed my words. How he touched me. How hecherishedme. How he made me feel pampered and spoiled, even if it was only for a little bit.
Coming out of my thoughts as Beckham finished pouring my wine, I watched him silently bring the perfectly cooked steak to my lips. Taking a bite, I savored the taste as he watched my reaction.
“Good?” he asked, his voice smooth, calculated.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry as I reached for the wine glass. Before I could lift it, Beckham’s fingers closed over mine, effortlessly prying it from my grasp.
“Allow me.”
He tilted the glass to my lips, and I let him, feeling the warmth of the wine slide down my throat. His other hand rested on my leg, tracing idle patterns over my inner thigh.
I did my best to ignore how overwhelming his presence was all of a sudden. His touch, his words. They’d always had an effect on me, but tonight… tonight, perhaps because it wasjust us, I found myself being even more drawn to him.
Looking into his lustful, flaming gaze, I realized I was playing with fire, risking my marriage, my sanity, and my control for a man filled with temptation… seduction… sin.
At times, Beckham made me feel like the only woman on earth… other times, he made me feel powerless, vulnerable, under his dangerous spell that allowed him to access my deepest and darkest desires and passions.
For some reason, I just couldn’t stay away. No matter how much I tried. No matter how much I tried to convince myself of the potential consequences, he knew how to ease his way back into my mind. He knew how to make me forget why I had to stay away—but none of that seemed to matter when he made me feel wanted… desired… cherished.
And even though I was playing with fire…I wanted him to burn me.
Chapter twenty-six
Rosenna
Thebathroomflickeredincandlelight, the scent of vanilla and warm water filling the air. Delicate white rose petals floated in the steaming bath, like something sacred.
Beckham straightened from the last candle, eyes locking onto mine. My breath caught as he stalked toward me, like he had all the time in the world to savor this moment.
I wanted to find something in me to resist the dangerous, imperfect man in front of me, but I couldn’t.I didn’t want to.
Once he was in front of me, he placed a hand on the bottom of my shirt. His gaze dragged down my body, unhurried, soaking in every inch.
