Under Contract (The GEG Series)

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Under Contract (The GEG Series) Page 8

by Jacquelyn Ayres


  “There was no traffic. I don’t live that far away.” She seems unsure as I close the gap between us.

  “How fast?” I ask through my teeth and grab her upper arms.

  “What is the matter with you?” She tries to pull away.

  “What is the matter with me?!” I yell in her face and let go of her arms. I walk away, running my hands through my hair. “You said a couple of hours, Charlotte—it’s been five!” Stop, Mitch. Pull yourself together. “You left your phone out in the open for anybody to see my texts, and I got my ass chewed out by your father like I was some punk kid down the street!” Fuck it ... I’m gone!

  “Then you drive here like some crazy bitch in heat.” At this, her eyebrows arch and she bites back her sexy little smile. Damn her and that smile! I have to look away. “With no regard for your safety.” I turn my back to her, calming down as my chest tightens. “If anything ever happened to you, baby ... ” I almost don’t recognize my own voice, so I let it trail off.

  I feel Charlotte’s arms wrap around my waist from behind. One hand stays on my stomach. The other travels up my chest and rests over my heart. Her lips press against my back and my shirt fails to extinguish the warmth of her kiss. I slowly exhale through pursed lips and try to keep my heart from beating out of my chest.

  “I did seventy, like I always do. It’s rare for me to go above that, and it’s only five miles over the speed limit. There was no traffic. I overestimated how long it would take just in case, so I wouldn’t be late. I’m sorry I scared you.” Another kiss. “I’m sorry my dad ripped you a new one, but after reading that text you sent me, I can say my reaction wouldn’t have been any different than his,” she says.

  “I still want to throw you over my knees and spank the shit out of you—even more so now,” I say truthfully.

  “Traffic was a bitch today, as you know. I also have a family that needs me, Mitch, and I’m not set up to handle our arrangement yet. I will be when you come back, I promise. If it’s any consolation, those five hours were the longest ever. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

  I inhale sharply at her words. Christ, her veracity kills me. I cover her hands with mine. She rests her cheek against my back and slowly tightens her squeeze on me. I feel as if I’m diving off a cliff with the most breathtaking view, only I don’t know whether there will be beautiful, clear water greeting me at the bottom, or if I’ll fall to my death.

  “You hungry, baby? I brought stuff to make you something to eat, just in case.” She lifts her head.

  “You’re going to feed me, baby?” I turn to her, embracing the calm she’s managed to bring me once again. Finally, I take in the sight of her for the first time since she’s made her presence known. “Damn it, Charlotte.” I touch her face. “Why do you have to be so pretty?” I whisper before nudging her lips. I probably should have said “beautiful,” but sometimes a simpler word like “pretty” seems like a bigger statement to me.

  She has her wavy mane up in a mess of hotness, tendrils falling everywhere. She changed into a simple yellow Calico-printed sundress (damn it, Gram, for being the reason I know what a fucking Calico print is—Christ!) with spaghetti straps. I prefer her hair down, but Jesus, her neck is gorgeous. My hands glide down it. Her skin is so soft. They fall to her breast, my thumbs quickly greeted by her hardening nipples.

  “You went out with no bra on? One swift wind and anyone could see this.” I pinch hard.

  “Ah,” she gasps, then smiles. “I wore a sweater, baby. No one could see what’s yours,” she says. I nod, feeling a bit ridiculous now—and completely turned on by her words. She throws her hands around my neck. “So, you want to eat?” This time I raise an eyebrow. She giggles. “Food!” She shakes her head and I can’t resist smiling. So damn pretty! “Don’t worry, Mitch ... when I’m done feeding you, I’m going to fuck you ... being a bitch in heat and all.”

  “Charlotte,” I gasp.

  “What? It’s not the middle of the day anymore, and you know what they say ...” She smirks, pulling away from me to head to my kitchen.

  “What do they say, baby?” I love to humor her. She hasn’t disappointed me yet.

  “The freaks come out at night,” she says, smiling back at me. I swat her ass playfully, making her yelp and laugh. Doomed. I’m fucking doomed.

  “Okay, Erica, I’ll check my schedule now. See you in Tokyo on Tuesday. Have a good night.” I sigh and hang up. Shit, if I’m staying an extra week in Japan, this is probably going to push Germany back, which will create a domino effect. Normally, I wouldn’t care about extra time overseas, but I didn’t have Charlotte to come home to before.

  I head back to the kitchen and I’m hit with the wonderful aroma of bacon. Charlotte’s cutting stuff up at the counter next to the stove, and she pauses to turn the bacon. I quietly put my phone down on the island before walking up behind her. She jumps a little when I grasp her hips and bury my face into her neck.

  “It’s almost done.” She lowers the heat.

  “Mmm ... between the smell of bacon and my woman,” I say, inhaling her scent deeply at her neck, “I have to admit, I’m fighting off the urge to drag my knuckles on the floor like a caveman.” Did I just fucking say that out loud?

  She turns her head and looks up at me, laughing.

  “Jesus, you’re not going to clobber me over the head with something, are you?”

  “I did, baby—a big ole bank account!” I smirk. Her smile fades and she gives me a slight nod before looking back to the bacon.

  “Go sit while I put this together,” she says quietly.

  “Charlotte,” I whisper near her ear and squeeze her hips.

  “Please, Mitch ... go sit,” she begs. Her body tenses.

  “No,” I stay as sternly as I can. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Mitch. You spoke the truth.” She places the bacon on paper towels.

  “Don’t, Charlotte ... don’t pull away from me.” I close my eyes and rest my forehead against her messy bun.

  “I have to toast your bread.” She holds the bread in front of her and points over to the toaster.

  “What are you making me?” I let go but stand near her with my back against the counter.

  “Turkey club. Is that okay?” She eyes me for my approval.

  “I’d eat anything you make, baby.” I reach for her cheek with the back of my fingers. She flinches and jerks away. I wince from the crushing feeling in my chest and let my hand fall back down, then study her. In the short time we’ve known each other, this is the first time I’m aware of this wall she has. Here it is though, in all its glory—resurrected by my words.

  I continue watching her as she puts my sandwich together and walks my plate over to the table. I grab a drink and take a seat.

  “Do you want me to sit with you while you eat, or shall I go to your room and get ready for you, Mitchell?”

  My head jerks up at her formality. She looks away from me.

  “Why don’t you take a little tour of the house and learn where everything is?” I try to keep my voice steady. She’s overreacting, but I certainly don’t want to add fuel to the fire. She stands, staring at me. “Go ahead, Charlotte,” I say gently. She lets out a frustrated sigh. “What?”

  “Take a bite of your sandwich.” She points to it.

  “I will. Go on your tour.”

  “I need to see you take your first bite.” She rolls her eyes, but somehow I don’t feel it’s directed toward me.

  “Why—is it poisoned?” I widen my eyes, teasing her and hoping to get a glimpse of her old self.

  “No, you dumbass! I need to see that you like it!” Her impatience makes me chuckle a little. I think she’s more frustrated with herself for needing to see me take the first bite than my procrastination.

  “Did you just call me a dumbass?” I’m having a terrible time trying to keep the grin off of my face.

  “It’s a step up from what I called you in my head a few
minutes ago.” Her stolid expression makes me laugh out loud. I can’t believe I’m taking this crap from her—and enjoying it! I stop laughing, curious about the look she’s giving me.

  “What does that look mean?”

  She sits. “What look?”

  “The one you just gave me when I was laughing.” I pick up a triangle of the sandwich. Damn it, she even stuck each triangle with a toothpick to hold it together. Who does that at home? Charlotte does ...

  She sits at the edge of her seat as I go in for my first bite. “This is riveting for you, isn’t it?” I ask. She slumps back with frustration.

  “Can you just take a bite?” She sighs, defeated. I bring the sandwich up to my mouth, but quickly pull it away and smile.

  “Let’s make a deal.”

  “I would, but I don’t have a crazy costume and I already know what’s behind door one.” She smirks sarcastically.

  “I’m interested in exploring door number two.” I wink at her. She fidgets in her seat and turns a hundred shades of red.

  “You’re blushing. Do you not want me to touch you like that?” I ask.

  Charlotte swallows hard, closing her eyes. “I’m yours to touch any way you choose,” she finally says.

  I would’ve rather received a sucker punch to the gut than sit here and watch another level of that wall she’s building go up. I know it’s my fault. I reminded her of what we are. I didn’t mean to. I take in a deep breath after a moment of awkward silence.

  “I won’t touch you again until I’m invited to do so.” I exhale forcefully. There’s that look again. “What is that look, Charlotte?” I no longer hold back my impatience.

  “You’re enigmatic, and I’m not sure if I can handle that.” She starts off strong but finishes weak.

  “I think you handle me just fine. In fact, I think you handle me so well, it makes me uncomfortable.” I glance down and shake my head. While I’m looking, I should probably check to see if my balls are still attached.

  “Eat your sandwich, Mitch.” She pushes the plate closer. I stare at her, shaking my head. “Ugh! You wanted to make a deal. I’ll make a deal with you! If you will please eat, I’ll give you a Get Out of Jail Free card!”

  “Get-out-of-jail-free card?”

  “Yes. You’ve mentioned spanking me several times. You know that’s a deal breaker for me.”

  “Is it?” I smirk playfully.

  “Yes. I don’t like it.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the only woman I’ve had a desire to spank,” I offer.

  “Why would it make me feel better to know I do everything wrong?” she asks.

  “Baby—the glass is half full.”

  “Stop speaking in riddles, Mitch!”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic. It might just be because you do everything right.” I wink again. She rolls her eyes. “So, if I eat this sandwich, I get a Get Out of Jail Free card?”

  “Yes. I won’t break up with you.” She said break up, not rip up the contract. Is she feeling the same way I am? Is she fighting it too?

  “Why is it so important to you that I eat this?” I lift the food.

  She groans and takes a minute before a lightbulb apparently comes on. “Have you ever seen The Wedding Singer?”

  “Yes. What does that have to do with this?”

  “You know the little old lady who pays him in meatballs, and needs to see him eat them?”

  “Yes.” I look at her funny.

  “I’m the little old meatball lady, Mitch! It brings me joy to see satisfaction on people’s faces when they eat my food.” Her animation is killing me. I feel like my Charlotte is back.

  “Hi, baby.” I smile at her.

  “Yes, hi ... please eat,” she begs.

  “I missed you,” I say, then take a bite. Her eyes widen—totally reminding me of the meatball lady. I’d laugh, but I just got hit with a burst of flavor I was not expecting. My eyes roll back and Charlotte claps her hands with excitement. “What’s in this?” I groan, then laugh at her.

  “You like it?” Her smile is huge.

  “Almost as much as I like you.” I take another bite. “Charlotte?”

  “Yes?” She plays with her hands.

  “You misconstrued what I said before.” I wait for her to look up. “I meant it playfully, and certainly not in the way you took it. I don’t see you like that. If I did, I would’ve stuck to the original plan of payment. Today was a statement, in a way, that I want this all to be very real. I want to provide for you like I would if there were no contract.”

  “But there is a contract,” she interjects.

  “Yes, and you will adhere to it as planned.” I feel my frustration building. Christ—I’ve almost laid out my cards without even knowing what’s in my hand.

  “Mitch, I will never give or ask for more. I have enough ‘more’ on my plate. I will follow the contract and be at your beck and call. I will lay my body down for you, but not my heart. Don’t ever expect my heart—it’s not for sale.”

  Her words choke the very breath out of my lungs.

  “I’m going to finish this.” I nod to the sandwich. “Go upstairs and get ready for me.” She offers me a weak smile and heads up. As soon as I hear the door close upstairs, I practically knock my chair down, jumping to my feet. I think more clearly when I pace.

  I know I need to stay calm. Cool heads will prevail! Settle down, Mitch. Think. There’s nothing to think about—it’s all right in front of me! I’m going with my gut; it’s never steered me wrong before. I just need to go about this a little differently ... like being patient. She’s been through a lot, like her dad said. Josh, that fucking idiot! Though I am grateful to him. If he weren’t such an idiot, she wouldn’t be in my arms now. I plan on keeping her there. I can’t hit her with too many feelings; it causes a flight reaction in her. I’m not going to behave beyond the contract’s requirements, which actually gives me plenty of room for interpretation. No, Charlotte, I won’t buy your heart, but I will earn it! Game on, baby!

  “Another humdinger?” I turn around to find Charlotte biting her smile back.

  “You have no idea, baby.” I grab my drink.

  “So ... you don’t like it?” She points to the sandwich.

  “No, I do. I’m going to finish it right now.” I smile and grab the last piece.

  “Do you have any red wine?”

  “I should.” I head over to the corner cabinet. “Cab Sauv okay?” I look over my shoulder.

  “Sure.” She takes the bottle from me.

  “Uh ... this one.” I open the drawer next to the one she’s digging in and hand her the corkscrew.

  “Thanks.” She takes it from me and tries to figure out how to use it.

  “Here.” I smile and stand behind her. “This goes on here ... and ...” Christ, she smells lovely. She looks up at me. I stare down into her beautiful eyes—Kryptonite.

  “Mitch,” she manages before rising on her toes for a kiss. I sweep her lips softly. “Do you want some?” she asks. It takes me a moment to register that she’s talking about the wine.

  “No, I’m good. Need to finish my sandwich or I won’t get a free spank-Charley-good card.” I kiss her nose.

  “You’re gonna spank me good?” She’s trying to sound playful, but I can hear her nerves clear as a bell.

  “Yes I am, but I am going to save it for a situation when you’ve behaved very badly.” I palm her ass. “Jesus, baby ... I may have to create a situation.” I squeeze and listen to her breathe erratically. “What do you have going on under here, by the way?” I try to lift her short, white silk robe.

  “Stop it, you!” She smacks my hand away. “I thought you weren’t going to touch me until you were invited to do so,” she says, then turns back to the wine and tries to open it.

  “It’s gonna be like that now, baby?” I lower my voice near her ear.

  “Mmhmm,” she hums, then throws her hands palm-down on the counter, clearly frustrated.


  “Need help?”

  “Yes, please.” She looks up at me. I trap her between the counter and me and slowly push up against her as I unscrew the cork.

  “I see Morale is up,” she murmurs, then gives me a dose of my own medicine as she pushes back against me.

  “Invite me to touch you, baby.” My lips almost touch her ear.

  “No.”

  “Invite me.” I push harder.

  “No.” She pours her wine.

  “Baby, I may have to go back on what I said.” I run my nose up her neck, inhaling her.

  “Are you sniffing me?” She giggles.

  “No! Please ... I wouldn’t do that.” I jerk my face back and chuckle. “Okay ... maybe a little.”

  “Mr. Colton.” She turns to me with laughing eyes. I immediately go for the knot in her robe.

  “Uh-uh ...” She taps my hand.

  “I need to touch you, Charlotte.” I close my eyes, almost begging.

  “Okay, but if you go back on your word, you’re going to miss out.”

  “Miss out on what?” I take her extended hand.

  “Me touching the hell out of you.” She walks backward, staring at me like I’m a big juicy steak. It makes me want to hand her a fork and knife so she can dig in. “Well?” She raises an eyebrow.

  “I’d like you to touch the hell out of me, baby.” Damn, she’s sexy.

  “Good.” She sips her wine. “Me too.” She walks forward again, holding my hand behind her. She climbs the stairs slowly, offering me a view to die for: white lace panties that end just above the curve of her cheeks. If I just lean forward a little further, I can nip at the skin there. I shake my head and try to find something else to look at. My gaze drops, taking in her gorgeous bare legs. Legs that were wrapped around my neck this afternoon while I greedily feasted on her pussy—her delicious pussy. I slap my head to force myself to focus.

  She looks over her shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”

  “Yep ... just trying not to drag my knuckles back here,” I say truthfully, and am rewarded with her giggle. I am amazed at how easy things are with her, yet still so difficult.

 

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