Little Dove

by Layla Frost

  After she closed herself in the bathroom, I stripped down to my boxer briefs. She came out a minute later and stopped in her tracks when she saw me.

  As tempted as I was to tease her for staring, I remained silent as I went to brush my teeth and take a leak. After washing my hands, I opened the door to see Juliet sitting with her gaze aimed my way.

  Waiting for me.

  Finally in my bed.

  Now who’s staring, asshole?

  Turning off the light, I got into bed. Juliet lay stiff as a board next to me. So much tension radiated off her, I almost let her go to her room.

  Almost.

  Rearranging us so she was on her side with my body curved around hers, I curled my arm up to cup her tit. Her sharp inhale made my dick jerk. I draped my other arm over her and slid my hand down her shorts, teasing my middle finger along her slit.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked, even as she rocked her hips.

  “Helping you relax.” Tweaking her nipple, I kissed her neck, biting down hard enough to make her cry out and grow wetter.

  “This is not making me relaxed,” she breathed.

  I ground my palm into her clit, shifting it back and forth as best as I could in the tight confines before freezing suddenly. “So I should stop?”

  “No, no, no, definitely not.”

  My lips and tongue trailed her neck before I bit down again. “Then hush.” I started moving my hand as I played with her nipple, her breath catching. “Let me take care of you.”

  Her nod was cut off when she arched her neck, her body tightening in my arms. She cried out and tried to tilt her pelvis away, but I pinned her in place, grinding harder until I was sure she’d given me everything.

  Moving my hand up from her tit, I rested it at the base of her throat and kept the other in her shorts, cupping her.

  Even with my possessive hold, she was relaxed and quiet. I thought she was asleep until she whispered, “I’ve never slept in the same bed as anyone.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “You haven’t? But you’ve—”

  “And then I’ve left. I like my space when I sleep.”

  “But you want me here?”

  I need you here.

  “Yes,” I said instead.

  She grew quiet again before pushing her ass against my hard-on. I heard her shaky inhale and braced for whatever she was about to say.

  “I could touch you,” she whispered.

  No amount of bracing could have prepared me for that.

  “Swear to Christ, Juliet, you keep saying things like that, and I’m not going to be able to stop myself from fucking you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Juliet.”

  “Maximo,” she mocked.

  “I’m going to spank your ass raw.”

  “I don’t know if I’d like that.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice as she continued. “But I think I’m willing to try.”

  “You’re killing me,” I groaned. “Go to sleep.”

  “Fine.” She gave a dramatic sigh, but within minutes, her body relaxed and her breathing grew even.

  It took me and my dick much longer to settle.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Everything’s Better in Black

  Juliet

  “JULIET.”

  I opened my eyes then squeezed them shut when Maximo switched on the lamp. “Hmm?”

  “I’ve got to leave.”

  Blinking rapidly, I peered up at him.

  He was showered and dressed in a dark gray suit with a navy dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

  “Do you wear ties?” I asked.

  “Not if I can help it. Did you hear me?”

  “You’re leaving, got it. What time is it?”

  “Six.”

  “In the morning?”

  “Yes. Go back to sleep. I want you to take it easy today.”

  “Okay,” I said, closing my eyes to get right on that.

  “I’ll be home after lunch.” I was vaguely aware of the light flicking off. “We’ll talk then.”

  “‘Kay.”

  It took a couple hazy minutes for his words to sink into my exhausted mind. My eyes shot open and I bolted upright, but he was gone.

  Don’t tell me to relax and then tell me we’ll talk later. I can’t do both!

  I flopped back, pulling the covers up.

  I had no clue what we needed to talk about. I thought we’d said everything that needed saying the night before. We’d talked at dinner, I’d made my decision, and I’d gone to him even though I’d been terrified.

  What else was there to say?

  Maybe he changed his mind.

  I dismissed the thought immediately. Or I tried to. Because once it entered my brain, it took root, filling me with panic and unease.

  I didn’t want him to change his mind. The night before had been amazing thanks to his skilled hands, but it’d been more than the mind-blowing release he’d provided. He’d known what I needed and had taken care of me without expecting reciprocation. Then he’d held me tight until I’d fallen into the best sleep of my life. He’d been patient and tender and rough and demanding and perfect.

  And suddenly he was back to cold.

  My mind continued replaying his words until I knew sleep was a lost cause. I was tempted to use his amazing shower I’d seen the night before. The blue-tiled room had a double bowl sink, a bath the size of a hot tub, and a shower that was so big, it had multiple heads and part of the wall was cut away to make a bench.

  But the longer I spent in his room, the more likely it was someone would discover I’d pulled a Goldilocks by sleeping in someone else’s bed.

  Opening the door, I peeked my head out to make sure the coast was clear. Hightailing it to my room, I showered and started brushing my teeth before wiping the steam from the mirror. I caught my reflection and my jaw dropped, my toothbrush falling into the sink with a clatter.

  A hickey.

  Maximo had given me a hickey.

  Not a full-blown one, but there were a few light marks.

  Who even does that?

  And why is it so hot?

  I’m losing my mind.

  At least I have a new project… I’m gonna have to convert my tops to turtlenecks so I can hide these marks.

  I finished getting ready before heading to the closet to put on ripped black jeans and a cropped tee that was covered in tears and holes. I loved the ultra-distressed look and that I could see glimpses of my bra underneath.

  Forget the turtlenecks, I’m going to try replicating this top.

  Excitement bubbled through me as I went to my sewing room and got to work on a black version.

  Everything’s better in black.

  _______________

  Hours later, nearly asleep at my desk, I checked my progress. I needed to research how to prevent the rips from growing or the thread from unraveling, but the top was coming along better than anticipated.

  I fed the fabric into the machine to double stitch the neckline.

  The door opened, and my eyes snapped up, but it was Ash not Maximo.

  Taking in his concerned expression, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Watch your fingers.” I turned the machine off, and he asked, “How long have you been in here?”

  “I dunno. Since six-thirty or so. Why?”

  “We thought you were still sleeping. I went in to wake you, and you weren’t there.”

  And I wasn’t there all night.

  But then he continued. “Or in your room.”

  Wait, he knows I slept with Maximo?

  Well, slept in his room, not the other kind of slept with.

  Yet, at least.

  “Juliet,” he said, not looking happy.

  I jolted again. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

  “You skipped breakfast and lunch, and you look exhausted.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t be in here when you’re so tired, you’ll end up sewing your fingers together
. Go nap.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, even though I was exhausted. I glanced at the time on my iPad. “Maximo said he’d be home after lunch.”

  “That’s why I was coming to find you. He wanted me to tell you he got held up and won’t be back until later.”

  Shit. I’d been counting down until we could talk.

  “Oh, okay,” I said. “I’ll just keep working then.”

  “Go rest.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.”

  Ash pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed something. It rang half a minute later and he handed it to me.

  I glanced at the screen and saw who it was.

  “You tattled on me?” I asked.

  “Yes, now answer or he’ll be pissed.”

  I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “You’ve been up since I left and skipped breakfast and lunch?” Maximo said by way of greeting.

  “Hello to you, too. How’s your day?”

  “Juliet.”

  “Maximo.”

  “Christ, do you want me to spank your ass until you can’t sit down?”

  Yes.

  Wait, what?

  No, definitely yes, I maybe certainly want to consider having that happen.

  “I’m fine,” I tried.

  “Ash says you’re not.”

  “Ash is a snitch.”

  “I’ll have the snitch bring you a sandwich and then you need to rest.”

  The concern in his voice was reassuring but it wasn’t enough. “I couldn’t sleep because you said we’d talk later.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “I meant we’d talk to see how you’re feeling after last night. If you wanted to change your mind.”

  “I thought you’d changed your mind,” I whispered, surprised by how dejected that made me feel.

  “Never,” he bit out in an intense way that scared me but mostly made me wet.

  “You didn’t kiss me goodbye.” Remembering I wasn’t alone, my eyes darted to Ash’s, but he didn’t look surprised in the slightest.

  Huh.

  “I was giving you space in case you had regrets, that’s all. Go get some sleep. We’re going to a fight tonight, and it’ll be a late one.”

  Even though I’d become a homebody who liked the security of my little world, I had left the house. But errands were much different than going out with Maximo.

  Especially going to a fight with Maximo.

  Excitement zipped through me. Not wanting to fall asleep during the action, I relented. “Okay, I’ll eat then rest.”

  “Now.”

  “I will, I will. Sheesh.”

  “I’m going to redden that sweet ass.”

  “Promises, promises,” I blurted before hanging up.

  I’m going to regret that.

  When I handed Ash his cell back, he asked, “Want a sandwich?”

  My stomach growled at the thought. “I can grab it.”

  He gave me a look that wasn’t as powerful as Maximo’s the look, but it was still pretty effective.

  “Turkey, please.”

  “Got it.”

  I finished what I was doing while he grabbed the sandwich. When he got back, he shot me a disapproving scowl but didn’t say anything.

  He did, however, stand there while I ate. As soon as I finished the last bite, he tipped his head toward the door. “Nap.”

  “Is it a rule that you have to be bossy to work for Maximo?”

  “Work for him? No. Work closely with him? Yes. Now go.”

  I sighed, and my dramatics would’ve been more effective had a massive yawn not snuck out.

  I was down the hall when Ash called, “Juliet.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him open Maximo’s bedroom.

  He knows.

  He definitely knows.

  Does everyone?

  Since it was pointless to deny it—not to mention, Maximo’s bed smelled like him and that sounded heavenly—I turned around and headed in.

  Once the door closed behind me, I stripped off my jeans and flopped onto the bed, not expecting to sleep.

  I was out within minutes.

  _______________

  This is the best dream.

  Ever.

  Lips, teeth, and a tongue trailed across the back of my neck. I tilted my head—or thought I did, at least—to give better access.

  If I was dreaming, it could only be one person.

  “Maximo,” I moaned softly.

  A hand pushed under me, cupping me over my undies. Hardness pressed against my ass, and I arched into it.

  “You awake?” he whispered in my ear.

  I shook my head. “No, this is definitely a dream because dream-you has an unreal, massive…” Just in time, my brain pulled out of its fog before I finished my sleepy rambling.

  “Massive what?” he asked, amusement in his cocky tone.

  “Ego,” I finished. “An unreal, massive ego.”

  He flipped me to my back. My startled laughter died when his hips fell between my spread legs, his dick pressing against me.

  The sleeves of his shirt were rolled, the muscles of his tattooed forearms defined as he held his weight off me. “I promise my ego is very real and just as massive in real life as it is in your dreams.” He smirked, but his eyes were filled with an inferno not humor. “But I like that you dream about me.”

  I shrugged as best as I could. “Dreams, nightmares. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

  “Brat.” He dropped his head to kiss me. Unfortunately, it was just a quick one. “Sleep okay?”

  I nodded. “What time is it?”

  “Almost four.”

  “In the afternoon?” I tried to scooch away so I could sit up, but he gripped my hip. The movement pressed him harder against me, and I forgot about getting up.

  And thinking.

  And breathing.

  And basically anything else that didn’t involve how good he felt.

  Maximo’s dark eyes scanned my face. “You okay after last night?” At my nod, he prompted, “I need to hear the words.”

  “I’m good.” I hesitated, my heart pounding as I added, “Daddy.”

  His groan rumbled against me and he dropped to take my mouth in a kiss that was not quick. He took his time, slowly tasting me until I was rocking my hips, needy for more.

  Pulling away, he rested his forehead on mine. “Christ, you drive me wild.”

  It may not have been a flowery compliment, but it was an effective one.

  He lifted his head, his gaze dropping to take in the smile I couldn’t hide. Moving suddenly, he got out of bed. I was about to ask what was wrong when he said, “If I stay in bed with you smiling that fucking smile, we won’t be going anywhere.”

  Sounds good to me.

  Sitting up, I figured it was best to keep that thought to myself.

  “We’re going to dinner before the fight. Go get ready.” Maximo watched me climb out of bed like it was the most interesting thing he’d seen. Giving him my back, I shimmied into my jeans. Before I could turn back around, his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me against him.

  He didn’t speak as he held me, so neither did I. I leaned into him and soaked up his warmth.

  When he slowly pulled away, he hooked a finger in my belt loop and twisted me toward the door. His palm landed a sharp slap on my ass.

  “Ouch!” I yelped, rubbing the sting that really wasn’t that bad.

  “Promises, promises, remember?” His hand connected again. “We leave in an hour.”

  “I’m going, I’m going.”

  He took a step closer, and I burst out laughing, hurrying out of spanking range as I bolted out the door.

  Like the day before, a garment bag and shoebox were waiting for me.

  Unlike the day before, a rectangular black box with a pretty silver bow was sitting with them.

  Unable to fight my curiosity, I hurried to open it.

  Holy shit.

 
Too much.

  This is definitely too much.

  The velvet lined box held a delicate tennis bracelet made of oval diamonds. Afraid to even breathe on it, I closed the lid and carefully set it down before unzipping the garment bag. Silver with a hint of shimmer, the gorgeous dress had long sleeves, a faux-wrap closure, and a belt that tied around the waist.

  It looks like the world’s fanciest bathrobe.

  The shoebox held a pair of open-toed heels with a thin ankle strap.

  As much as I loved it, it was too much. I didn’t need clothes or jewelry or presents.

  The only thing I wanted was him.

  Setting everything down, I hurried to tame my bedhead and do my makeup before getting dressed.

  Thankfully, the dress didn’t look like a bathrobe once it was on. It was short, fun, and sexy—especially when I walked and the fabric separated to show more thigh.

  I put the shoes on, grabbed the jewelry box, and went to find Maximo. As I headed down the hallway, he came out of his office.

  He’d showered and changed into a black suit with a black dress shirt, and the effect of all that darkness was breathtaking and panty soaking.

  He looked sinister and wicked.

  Sinful.

  Running his tattooed hand across his jaw as his thumb swept his bottom lip, his eyes blazed as they traveled my body. “Fucking perfection. Do you like your Valentine’s present?”

  My brows lowered. “What?”

  Like a tiger stalking a gazelle, he approached and took the box from me. He pulled the bracelet out and tucked the empty case under his arm before grabbing my wrist and securing it in place. “I planned to give it to you last night after dinner, but then you,” he glanced at me, “distracted me. Today works better anyway. I’m sure it’s not fun sharing your birthday with a holiday.”

  I didn’t tell him my dad had rarely remembered my birthday, let alone Valentine’s Day. He’d certainly never celebrated either.

  “Do you like it?” he asked again.

  “It’s beautiful, but the clothes and this… It’s too much. You don’t have—”

  “If I felt like I had to do anything, your sweet ass would be out the door. I do things because I want to. Because I want to take care of you. Spoil you. I don’t have to do that, I want to do it. What I don’t want is an argument every time I give you something. You need to learn to let me take care of you.”

  Easier said than done.

  I’d been taking care of myself for as long as I could remember. I’d never learned to let someone else do it because I’d never had someone try.