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I chuckle along with her, but I can’t help but think about how delicious she looks, with her full cheeks and the blush crawling up her neck, all across her face, the blush that makes me wonder how red other parts of her become.
My hand tightens around the edge of the table, lust pulsing through my veins when I think about those full curvy ass cheeks blooming red when I lightly spank her.
Not rough. Not hard.
But with just the right amount of force, just enough to let her know who she belongs to me.
Me.
Always.
Goddamn, I need to move, to do something other than sit here.
Otherwise, I really am going to lose control.
“How about we finish up our coffees and take a walk?” I say, my voice trembling, barely able to contain my lust, warring with my body to mark her as mine here and now.
And maybe I will, just to let every bastard in here know she belongs to me.
This curvy dark haired goddess is mine.
“I always find walking helps get my creative juices flowing,” I go on, even if I’m just bullshitting at this point.
It isn’t walking that helps my creative juices going.
It’s working out, punishing my body until I’m too tired to second-guess my instincts, sitting down at my laptop and entering that flow as my fingers skip over the keys.
Her smile widens, lighting up her whole face. “If you’d told me a couple of weeks ago I’d be going for a walk with Madden Mitchell, there’s no freaking way I would’ve believed you.”
I smirk and lean forward, inhaling the scent of her perfume, that just-her smell, past the aroma of coffee. “And if you’d told me I’d be going for a walk with a woman who says freaking, I can honestly say I wouldn’t have believed you either.”
She laughs and leans forward, almost right over the table, raising her hand. Then a look flashes across her face and she lowers it.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
She quickly picks up her coffee.
“It’s nothing. Nothing.”
Chapter Nine
Maddison
Shouldering my handbag, I sneak a look up at Madden.
There’s something so hot about how I have to crane my head up to look at him, making me feel so safe and secure as he looms over me, even if he’d laugh if I told him what I’m thinking.
We walk through a park near the café, dog walkers strolling by us, mothers with their children. A family sits around a small pond, on a picnic blanket, the toddler aged son laughing as he runs around, grabbing at the bubbles his sister blows into the air.
My womb gives a shiver inside of me when my gaze comes to rest on them, the insanity inside of me telling me to leap on Madden and bring some of that starry happiness into our reality.
I can’t believe what I almost did back at the café, raising my hand to smack him playfully. It’s like I forgot about that angry look in his eye for a second, that inferno burning there.
But if he really is angry, why did he suggest a walk?
And why were we able to banter with each other like that?
Confused is a freaking understatement.
Freaking.
My chest feels warm and fuzzy when I remember how he teased me, the way his lips twitched, his expression softening.
Not a lot, but enough to let me think maybe he doesn’t want me to get the hell away from him. But that was only for a moment.
Now he’s back to his solemn routine.
“Any creative juices going?” I murmur as he looks down to look at me.
“This is about your creative juices,” he replies, with a rumble beneath his voice. “Take that for example.”
He stops at the edge of the path, nodding over to a kite all tangled up in the branches of a tree. There’s nobody trying to reclaim it. It just hangs there, the yellow and blue fabric swaying slightly in the soft breeze.
“What do you see?” he asks.
“The kite in the tree.”
He moves towards me, closer still, until his arm brushes my shoulder. I wonder if it’s a mistake. But he doesn’t move. He maintains the contact, the tingling sizzling sensation dancing between us, or at least over me.
My nipples harden and push against the fabric of my bra.
I warn myself to calm down, to get myself under freaking control because this is one thousand percent one-sided. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s standing so close.
“Come on. You can do better than that. What do you see, Maddie?”
I stare at it, hard, as nerves try to close up my throat. It’s like he’s my teacher and he’s just asked me a question in class…
Heck, that wasn’t a good thought to let dance into my mind, because now I’m imagining him telling me to bend over, maybe teasing me with a ruler, bringing it down on my ass before spanking softly.
