His to Belong To

by jm blake

  I watch as he slowly takes off those atrocious gloves, amber eyes raking me from messy head to toe. He doesn’t say anything, just leans a hip against the counter and waits. I start to lose my patience and whirl around to stomp out of the bathroom when a muscular arm stops me.

  “Pack it in, brat. Let me speak.” I open my mouth to contest the ‘brat’ part when he cups a hand over my lips. “No.”

  He pulls away and quickly swings me into his arms. I kick and screech a little, but he holds me tighter and plops down on the couch with a firm grip on my hips.

  “I was wrong.” I stop my childish antics and stare at him. “I handled tonight very poorly. I didn’t like the way Malcolm was flirting with you, talking to you. I saw how he was into you starting at the lab, and then the way he was dominating you at dinner. I should have stopped it sooner, but I was too angry to make a move. I didn’t mean to suggest that you did anything wrong, or that you’ve been some sort of pest I needed to purge. I am truly sorry, Cass.”

  I don’t say anything for a full minute. “You hurt my feelings.”

  That’s hard for me to admit. When you give someone something- a feeling, a vulnerability, it cracks open a piece of you that you are inviting them to occupy. I have never felt comfortable with any of that- I only have limited experience with intimacy. His warm eyes smile, those lethal laugh lines popping out, and he strokes my face.

  “I know, love. And I’m sorry. Bash convinced me that I needed to come over here and make a fool of myself to show you how sorry I am. I bought these…rags at a horrid little chemist shop. The shoes are Clayton’s- I will not tell him how you described them. I am itchy and I cannot imagine how unattractive I look. These pants alone aren’t doing me any justice.” He plucks at the excess material and I smother a grin. “Will you forgive me?”

  I make him sweat. “I don’t know.” I already forgave him, but his arrogant butt can use a little humility.

  “What do I need to do? I’ll do anything.” His fingers tangle themselves in my hair, and he places little yummy kisses along my jawline. I can feel my will sliding away when his tongue slips out and tickles a few places.

  “Um, there is something,” I murmur, tilting my head to the side to give him access to my neck. He nibbles down to my weak spot.

  “Name it, love.” More nibbles.

  “You have to dance out my angry girl song with me.” He stops and peers at me. “Dance it out?”

  “Yeah, no strategy or anything, just dance.” He scratches the side of his face and looks at the ceiling with a deep sigh. “Alright. I’ll give it a go.”

  I squeal and jump off of his lap, restarting the song. “You don’t know this song? It’s “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone. It’s famous.” I start shaking my hips and hopping around. “Move it, dude.”

  He stares at me for a moment, heat in his gaze, before he pulls his sweatshirt off from the back collar, you know- in that hot guy type of way. His cut, perfect, bare chest falters my movements and I catch his little smirk. He steps forward and sways from side to side, attempting to grind on me, but I dance away. I close my eyes and hold my arms above my head, moving to the beat. I don’t know what it is about this song, the sitar, the lyrics, the rhythm- buts it’s like therapy for me. The song fades out, and I open my eyes to Ayden, just watching me.

  “I know I’ve said this before, but you are so beautiful.” I blush a bit and smile.

  “How about we close the place down, grab your cases, take them back to my flat? I don’t want to spend any of your remaining time away from you.” He gingerly picks up the sweatshirt, eyeing it disdainfully. “Let’s finish up the bathroom- which looks very clean but the way- and go home and burn these clothes. On second thought, I don’t know the flammability level; we’ve got to just throw them out.” He holds out his hand for me to take, twining his fingers with mine. “So this “Terminator? What is the famous phrase from it?”

  I roll my eyes and squeeze his grip. “‘I’ll be back’”

  “Yes, that’s it. I’ll be back.”

  Ayden

  I’ll be alright.

  When she leaves, I mean.

  I’ll be perfectly alright.

  Bash

  He’s not going to be alright.

  Home

  Cassidy

  I’ve never been good at goodbyes.

  Any armchair psychologist could probably tie it to being an orphan, and the tragic amount of times I had to uproot homes as a foster kid. You’d think I’d be a pro at it, but nope, I hate them. Even if I know I am going to see that person shortly or speak to them soon; I always have this dreadful sense of loss. A sharp pain that spreads from my chest and oddly lands in my hands, twisting into my stomach. I have to swallow slowly and breath hard to prevent unwanted tears. Its one of my biggest secrets, and only my big sister, Brin, is aware of it. She makes sure to make our goodbyes short and cold, to help alleviate the pain. Even our phone calls end abruptly— anyone eavesdropping would think that we hate each other. But she was really doing it to spare me that horrible, sticky feeling. I refuse to think about what it is going to like saying goodbye to Ayden—even though I’m the one who set the rules. He probably thinks that I don’t want to contact him anymore because I don’t care, or that this month has meant nothing, but that’s the furthest from the truth.

  I care too much.

  And this month has meant everything. Everything.

  I wish I had more time to explain that I had so many homes, so many mommies and daddies, so many promises made and broken, that I just don’t have the capacity to deal with the sadness, the disappointment, anymore. I don’t want to hope that this is going somewhere, that he is wasting away missing me, that I mean something to him.

  Let’s be real, alright. Have you seen this guy? He is a walking fucking fantasy. He’s hot, sexy, brilliant, wealthy, and damn if he isn’t a genius in bed. I am not stupid enough to believe that he doesn’t have an arm’s length list of women waiting to crawl into his pants. He doesn’t know that one day I was standing close to Ayden’s office waiting for Pat and Bash, and I heard his assistant Phyl (I love her by the way), telling him that he had seventeen missed calls about “return tickets.” He snarled something about wasting his time, and that’s when it hit me.

  Only a complete idiot wouldn’t know what that meant.

  So, I’m not fool enough to believe that this little…escapade(?) is anything more than a way for him to pass the time. He was attracted to me, went after me, and got me. We get along great, are ruthlessly compatible physically, and respect each other. I can chalk up this time and move on with my life.

  Even though part of me wishes it was more.

  Even though that same part wishes he wanted more.

  But we live five thousand three hundred and fifty miles apart. (I’m a math nerd..sue me.) He has a whole ass conglomerate to run, and I have students and sisters to take care of. There is no way to make this work.

  Even though I wish we could.

  At one point last night, I woke up and turned on my side to watch him sleep ( I know it seems creepy but bear with me). When he’s awake, Ayden is a force of nature: dynamic, commanding, urbane, powerful. If you don’t know him, he can be intimidating: his looks and supreme confidence can make anyone want to wither and hide. He dominates any room he enters, and people just gravitate to him- just like the sun he is trying tame.

  But when he’s asleep, and his arrogant-butt features are relaxed… he’s just beautiful. His full, pink lips are parted a little, and that serious indent between his thick brows is easy to smooth. The light blond lock of hair over his right temple glows in the dim light, his handsome face covered in a light scruff. I catalog everything, so on those nights where my emotions win over common sense, I can remember how he looks right now.

  His eyes open suddenly, and a sleepy smile crosses his face. I move my head until it rests on his pillow and place my mouth on his parted lips. His tongue immediately slips out, and his muscu
lar arm pulls me closer. Our mouths dance until he gently flips me over and enters me in one smooth stroke. He hums at finding me ready for him, lean hips driving with increasingly powerful stokes. I can feel the build coming, the distant waves threatening to crash. He gathers me into his arms, holding me tight, his movements becoming frantic until I cry out, his brutal shout following. We fall asleep, still connected, and when I wake hours later, he is still holding onto me tightly. I relish the feeling until I hear bangs from down below, and realize that I also smell bacon.

  I slip out of this grasp and hurry to the bathroom to clean up. I start the shower and brush my teeth, pulling my wild hair into a tight bun. The door opens, and a very sexy and naked Ayden enters, stretching his arms over his head. I snap out of my ogling and hop into the stall. I squeeze the almost empty shower gel onto a puff and scrub vigorously. The door opens again, and the puff is yanked out of my hand. “Let me.”

  I stand still as he gently rubs the suds into my skin, stopping every few inches and placing a kiss on different parts. He drops the puff to the ground and uses just his fingers and warm water to rinse between my legs, his teeth lightly digging into my neck. My head drops back, and I moan. “We don’t have time.” His watery chuckle dances across my throat. “Yes, we do.”

  A few long minutes later, the water is shut off, and I’m leaning on his chest, legs shaking. “Told you we had time.” He kisses my temple and nudges me out of the shower. “Let’s see what my housekeeper has going on, shall we?” We dress quickly and head downstairs.

  Mrs. Manning has made one last full English breakfast for me, which I make sure to eat every crumb of (Let’s be honest- I would have eaten it anyway). I thank her profusely for taking such good care of me, and she waves it off.

  “You’ve been a joy, Miss Cassidy. Don’t you be a stranger now? I expect to see you back here soon.” She dabs at her eyes with the edge of her checked apron and scampers off to the kitchen. Ayden stares after her with an affectionate look on his face and smiles.

  “She’s always been a bit emotional. She cried every year I went off to school. And don’t get me started on the year I started at Eton- she practically collapsed. Bash was still at home, and when he went off, she took to her bed. I’m not sure who is higher on the histrionic scale- she or my mum.” He tweaks my nose “Now hurry on up so that we can get to the lab.” He disappears into the kitchen to check on Mrs. Manning, and I shovel the last of the beans into my mouth. Today is gonna suck.

  To my surprise, Ayden gave Clayton the day off and decides to drive us to the lab. His valet pulls up in a screaming red, and way-too-expensive looking car and tips his hat to Ayden. He holds the door open for me and rolls his eyes at my expression. “What’s the face for?”

  “First, you know how to drive??? I thought your fancy butt got chauffeured around everywhere.” I bend over to get into the low seat and earn a smart smack on the rear. I rub it laughing and settle into the luxe leather seat. “And what kind of car is this? I have a feeling it costs more than my entire education.”

  He pushes a few buttons on the futuristic dash, a smirk on his face. “This is an Acura NSX Base, custom. It’s a hybrid. And you did say you were Ivy League, right?” The smirk turns into a giant smile, and I pluck him on the arm. “Of course, I know how to drive- it’s just more efficient to have a driver. I can get more work done without the distraction of the street.”

  The car growls to life and takes off with a shot. I yelp and hurry to put on my seatbelt. He laughs and deftly maneuvers in and out of traffic, and before I know it, we are on the main highway. “You drive like a demon! No wonder you have Clayton!” He chuckles again and continues to zoom around other cars. “How fast are you going?” I lean over to take a peek at the speedometer, and he mushes me back into my seat.

  “Mind your business, little miss. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” I sit back and decide to watch him instead. His wrist muscles flex with every gear shift, and that perma-crease is back between his brows. He glances at the rearview and side mirrors, and his thick hair ruffles from the cracked window.

  He looks hot. Really hot.

  “You well over there?” I blink out of my stare and realize that he has that arrogant grin on his face. I roll my eyes and then smile evilly inside.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wondering who is the better driver, you or Bash?”

  He sucks in an aggravated breath and snarls. “Low blow, Cassidy.” I laugh out loud and cross my arms across my chest. “Did you teach him to drive?”

  “For a bit, yes. I got so frustrated with his joking and taking the piss that I gave up and let our stepfather take over. That little fool was so chuffed when he passed the practical, that I couldn’t stand to be around him. Our grandfather bought him an old jalopy, and he tore up the roads for months. I’m annoyed just thinking about it.” I smile, thinking about the two arguing in a cramped car and Ayden losing his shit over Bash’s antics. “What about you? Who taught you to drive? I know enough about California to know that you must have a car there.”

  I squirm a little. “Well, my older sister kinda gave me the basics, but I pretty much taught myself.” There’s no way I’m telling him the full story. “I have an old Jeep that I love. I’m dreading the day it gives up on me.”

  He chuckles. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. You seem like you were a grown-up even as a child.” He asks a few other questions about Brin, and I deftly turn them around. We chat lightly, and before I know it, we are in Cambridge and pulling into the private gate. The guard waves us in, and whistles at the car. Ayden whips the car into a secluded spot and hands me out of the car, grabbing my satchel. “So, what’s your plan for this morning?” We walk into the building and speed through security.

  “Well, I want to make sure that the teams are clear on my final report,” I pat my satchel. “And, of course, I want to give my feedback about the relocation strategy.”

  Originally, DevCo planned on building the device in an entirely different country. I mean, it makes sense- England isn’t the sunniest place on Earth. But Ayden didn’t want to be so far from home base, so they built it here in Cambridge. Now that the device is more stable, they plan to move it within the next two years. “I have a list of countries that I think would be suitable: I included socio-economic and political factors as well as climate-driven data. It’s only five places, but I think any of them would suit Apollo’s needs.”

  He nods slowly. “Of course. I would like to sit in on these meetings if that’s alright? I want to hear your feedback as well as the team’s responses.” I nod and smile, though he’s doing that weird chest rub thing he sometimes does. “You ok?”

  His amber eyes twitch, and his mouth quirks in that way that drives me crazy. “I’m fine, love. Maybe a bit too much coffee this morning.” His hand drops to his side. “Let’s go in, shall we?” We go through the double doors, and I can see the teams are already hard at work. I greet a few people by name and wave at others. That stupid knot tries to bubble up in my throat, and I push it back hard. Apollo has been my favorite project by far. The folks that Ayden has working here are fantastic. Not only are they smart and driven, but they are all just —nice. Once Batroni was let go, they thrived. I’m going to miss them a lot. Alec meets us at the lockers, and I greet him with a fist bump.

  We start with the nano team, and I hand out copies of my final report. We go through it line by line while the crew takes copious notes, firing questions at me. Ayden joins in, and they ask everything possible thing under the sun. I smile internally. I think some of them just ask stuff to stall and gently cut them off, telling them how proud I am of them and to continue to do great things. I stand up and shake their hands, surprised to see the emotion in a lot of their faces. I hurry over to the engineers and repeat the same routine. We end with the model team, where Pippa works.

  “I’m going to miss you!” Pippa grabs me into a hard hug, her accent sharp with her feelings. “It’s been brilliant working with you- I ho
pe my scientist-crush on you wasn’t too much of a bother.” I laugh and shake my head. “What crush? I never noticed it.” On my second day in the lab, she had me sign an obscure paper I published. On the fourth day, she asked me to take a picture with her and made it her screensaver. Ha.