“Yes!” he said exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the air. “I can work with that. Because then, at least I know how you feel about things!” He narrowed his eyes at her, his fury blazing brightly in his eyes. “But hiding out from me and avoiding me for no good reason is stupid. What did it accomplish? Us getting into an argument, something you were evidently hell bent on trying to prevent from happening,” he snorted. “For all the good that it did.”
“I'm not apologizing,” she said firmly. “I might have, if you had been patient and waited for me to come to you when I was ready, but instead you had to show up unannounced at my door when I wasn't even home, and ready to start an argument!” She knew that this was just circular arguing, and that it would always come back to the fact that she didn't answer her phone, but she couldn't help it; she was angry at him for being so impatient that he couldn't handle one day of her not being in touch with him. It was so hard to think that the day had started out so pleasantly, too, with the two of them tucked away in his loft and ready for a lazy weekend together. Now, after a police interrogation and an awful lot of silence between the two of them, the air between them was thick with tension and anger.
The silence that hung between them was nearly unbearable, and as those seconds ticked by, Angela realized that she might have taken it a bit too far. She swallowed, and opened her mouth to apologize, in spite of the fact that she just said that she wasn't going to, but he held up a hand to silence her. She closed her mouth with an audible click of her teeth and blinked owlishly at him, not knowing what was going through his head, but knowing that he was no doubt furious with her all the same.
“Come with me,” he said suddenly, taking her by the hand and starting to drag her out of the kitchen.
“Wait, what?” she said, flustered and not expecting him to want to go anywhere with her, least of all after she told him that she wasn't going to apologize. “But... but I bought dinner,” she said as an excuse to be hesitant, digging her heels into the tile a little to keep herself from moving. He rolled his eyes and walked back over to the counter while still holding her hand to grab the bag of food.
“We'll take it with us. Now let's go,” he said, starting to tug her away again. She paused once more.
“Why?” she asked, knowing that it would probably only serve to irritate him even more but needing to know what was going through that head of his. He shot her an annoyed look.
“I'm not continuing this discussion with other people within earshot. So let's take your food and talk somewhere else. I would prefer that my relationship with you remain private. Or at least,” he sighed, “as private as possible.”
“But you're still angry,” she said quietly. He scoffed.
“Damn right I'm angry, and by no means should you think that this is over,” he eyed her as he tugged her toward the door again. “But now isn't the time for us to rehash the obvious,” he said as they went out to his car. “Right now, I need to get you somewhere private, and we're going to sort this out, once and for all.” Her heart hammered in her chest, and she wondered what on earth he was getting at.
Still, she obediently got into the car's passenger seat, and tried not to flinch when David revved the engine and sped off into the night. It didn't take much for her to figure out that he was taking her back to the loft, the most private space that he had, and had fully intended for them to work through this fight.
What probably unnerved her the most was that he didn't say a word to her as they sped through the empty streets back toward the office building. She didn't know what to say to try and break the silence, so she remained silent, but her thoughts were racing, wondering what he was thinking. Not once did he glance in her direction, and kept his eyes firmly stuck on the road. His posture was unnaturally stiff, as though he was holding everything that he felt in, waiting until they were back up in the loft to let it out.
The idea that he was holding everything in to be unleashed later made her shiver.
The Billionaire’s Exclusive Book 6
Bella Rayne
The Billionaire’s Exclusive
Though they had managed to blow off a bit of steam before they got to the car and went on their way toward the loft, the tension in the car was undeniable, and Angela found herself wringing her hands in her lap as she watched the streetlights streak past them. In spite of the situation, her stomach rumbled, the smell from her Chinese takeout still in its bag wafting throughout the car.
She smiled wryly, oddly frustrated the most with the fact that he insisted on dragging her off before she had the chance to eat her dinner. By the time that she was going to get around to enjoying it, she would have to reheat it, now that it was steadily growing cold. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she was ultimately denied the instant gratification of eating her dinner when she got home from the takeout place.
Still, she chewed on her lip and knew better than to try and strike up a conversation about what had him so angry now. Not only was it dangerous to distract him from driving with such a heavy topic—and, really, a car is probably the worst place to have an argument, anyway—but he wouldn't be able to focus on the discussion, and it would only make her angrier that he was only half paying attention. So, as much as she wanted to just hash it out with him that instant so that they could just dispel the heavy cloud that hung over them, she remained silent, and opted to stare out of the window to try and distract herself from both her inner turmoil, and her hunger.
By the time that he was pulling into the parking garage to the Westley Entertainment building, she couldn't help but be relieved that she was getting out of the car; not only would her stomach not ignore the smell of the takeout in such a small space, but the tension was doing nothing but increasing her anxiety and anticipation for the discussion that they were about to have. She couldn't help the smile when he held out his hand to help her out of the car, in spite of the fact that he was still clearly furious with her.
She accepted the assistance getting out of the car with a quiet, 'thank you,' that was so soft that it might as well have been under her breath, but he must have heard it anyway, as he nodded silently and gestured for her to walk with him. Though she stumbled out of nerves, she did as he asked, and kept herself apace with his long strides as he walked into the building and went straight to the elevator. As they were the only ones there at this hour, the elevator opened almost instantly.
She stepped in after him, and watched as he slid his key to the loft into the slot and turned it until they heard a hushed click. She couldn't help but feel that the atmosphere was even more ominous than it had been just a few minutes ago as the elevator doors slid shut, and they began to ascend to the loft. She swallowed thickly and did her best to keep herself composed, trying to discreetly steal a glance over toward David, who was standing stone stiff and as silent as ever beside her. But every time she did, he simply continued to stare straight ahead of him, as though she wasn't even there. Was he just collecting his thoughts? It was hard to say, but she knew that his anger had been far from sated by their little talk back at her apartment.
With the elevator's signature ding, the door opened to reveal the loft that she had woken up in that morning. She hadn't realized just how tired she still was from the day’s events, and she suddenly felt her exhaustion hit her all over again, as though she hadn't gotten any rest earlier, and now she was dreading their argument all the more now because of it.
As she stepped into the loft, she barely had time to slip off her shoes before he was on her, steadily backing her into the wall with his predatory stare as he advanced on her. She swallowed a squeak of surprise at the intense heat in his eyes, but found herself entranced by their fiery gaze. He put his arms on either side of her, trapping her there, and she felt the narrow space between them crackle with even more tension because of it.
“Strip out of your clothes for me,” he said in a low voice. His demand completely threw her; she expected shouting, anger, and more of them talking
in circles and getting nowhere, not... not him asking her to take her clothes off!
“W-what...?” she stammered, unsure of what to say or do under his intense stare. Her breath hitched at the way that he was staring at her, and she had to remind herself that she was supposed to be angry with him, and that they were going to have an argument.
“I said,” he repeated, leaning his head in to press open mouthed kisses into her neck. “Take your clothes off. Strip for me.”
She did her best not to squirm under his attentions, but even as she tried to hold onto her anger, she felt the heat in her belly begin to lazily stir under his touch.
“We – we were in the middle of an argument!” she sputtered. “Why on earth would we leave things unresolved just so that I could strip for you?!” She crossed her arms with a huff, and frankly, didn't necessarily care whether she came across as childish or not.
“Oh, don't misunderstand me, Angela,” he murmured into the skin of her neck before giving it a nip with his teeth. “I'm still furious with you. And there are some things that I want to work out with you tonight before anything else happens, but…” he ran his tongue along the spot that he nipped.
She let out a whimper, though she couldn't say if it was in protest or in pleasure, and part of her hated that she couldn't decide.
“I want to start on the right foot – with your clothes on the floor, and my hands all over you.” Already, he had begun to slowly hitch up her shirt and run his hand along the smooth expanse on her stomach.
She felt her knees wobble as her resolve weakened. A part of her wanted nothing more than to just do away with the argument in its entirety and have them just work out their frustrations with each other as best as they could, for as long as it took them to do so. But she knew better than to just leave things like this and pretend that they were perfectly fine; she had been holding in all of her worries about David, and she was tired of hiding from it all. In the end, she knew she wasn't going to leave here without answers on everything that she had doubts and questions over, or at least, not without the answers that David could give to her.
“We need to work things out, David,” she gritted out when she felt him trace the outline of her breasts under her shirt.
“And we will, gorgeous,” he promised. “We're going to hash this out, here and now, until you won't ever feel the need to lie to me ever again.”
She frowned in spite of the fact that his hands had trailed down to her hips and squeezed the flesh he found there.
“But if we're going to do this, I want us both to be completely exposed. Inch,” he slid her pants and underwear down her legs until they fell the rest of the way, “by inch, until there's nothing left to hide between us. Am I clear on that, darling?” he asked, pulling away and cocking his head to the side.
“Lying?” She pressed. “I haven't lied to you—”
“You haven't been up front with me about your fears and concerns, have you?” he countered, and she flinched in spite of herself, knowing that she was, in effect, caught in a corner with her hand in the cookie jar. He must have taken her silence at a confession, so he continued, “I had been waiting, and hoping that you would come to me about them so that I could put your fears to rest, but you never did.”
He coaxed her top off of her with little argument on her part, her body growing more and more receptive to his touch and the slow, trickling desire that began to fill her core amidst their discussion.
“Then, when the police came this morning, I knew that I couldn't wait any longer, and I swore to myself that I would make sure that you didn't misunderstand any longer.” He smiled at her wryly as he pulled her in and began to work on the hooks on the back of her bra. “But then you didn't answer your damn phone.”
She smiled sheepishly under his withering gaze. “I explained why I didn't,” she said, even though it sounded lame even to her.
“You did,” he succeeded in unhooking her bra and quickly divested her of it, letting it fall to the floor beside them. “But it was a shit explanation, and you know it.”
“I, ah…” She shivered at the way that his fingers began to trace over her bare curves before she managed to compose herself enough to begin working on the buttons on his shirt. “I do have a lot of questions, that's true.” She could feel the warm expanse of his chest with his shirt now pulled open. “But, really, I have one thing, just one thing that I need to know.” She rested her palm over his chest. “I want to know if you're the one behind what's been happening to your employees.” She looked up, into his bright eyes, and tried to gauge how he was reacting to her words. “I want to know what's going on with the police, and the investigation,” she sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for his response.
“You know,” he said after a moment, “having you finally come out and ask me outright, after all this time of waiting,” he smiled at her slowly. “It's almost a relief.”
* * * *
“I've been holding my breath, waiting for you to finally ask me if I did any of that,” he said with a shrug. “But now that you've outright asked me, it's... kind of anticlimactic, to be honest,” he chuckled. “I thought that I would feel angry from the accusation, or hurt, or... I don't know, something other than relief.” He grinned lopsidedly at her, taking in the way that she hung on his words with bated breath, waiting for him to answer her question.
Truly, he didn't mean to make this moment drag on, or to make it dramatic for effect, but it was nice to finally be able to face this, and deal with it, rather than wait for her to get around to finding the courage to outright ask him what he knew she had suspected for a while.
“What happened?” she whispered, and he realized in that moment that he had maybe held on to the moment for a few seconds too long, if the wide eyed, fearful expression on her face was any indication. He swallowed, and endeavored to make this right, and put the thing to rest at last.
“I was brought in for my statement, to narrow down the suspects in the cases,” he sighed. “Evidently, the detectives have ruled that the two cases are related, and that they doubt that it'll end here unless the person is caught.”
“Do they know anything else?” Evidently, her cowardice had returned, and she wasn't able to ask the question that he knew that she really wanted to ask: did you do it? He sighed, and regretted feeling relieved before they finished the conversation. He knew that if he outright said that he didn't have anything to do with the murder and the assault, she would only grow more suspicious of him because that wasn't what she asked him, so he set to work trying to make her feel good physically as he answered her questions; at least one of them was going to feel better about this whole thing by the end of the night, and he was going to make sure of it.
“Only that the attacker was someone who knew their patterns,” he said, cupping her rear and pulling her flush against him. “Other than that, they didn't say anything else before they let me go.” He sunk his teeth into the junction of her neck, and she cried out, her hands gripping his back hard enough that he was sure that there would be crescent shaped marks from her nails. “Now that that's settled,” he slid a hand between them and let his fingers skim along the delicate curls that covered her womanhood, “why don't I do my best to make sure that you feel good, now that we're done arguing.” She cooed when he slid his finger inside of her, and he had to admit, that he was surprised when he found her to be soaked after so little foreplay.
“Ah,” she gasped when he crooked his finger in just the right way that he felt her push against the wall to support herself when her knees buckled. She managed to push his opened shirt off of him, and her fingers groped around his pants button to try and rid him of the last of his clothing. He chuckled into her hair as he helped her remove his pants. With the both of them completely naked, he simply took his time, letting his fingertips map out the dips and curves of her body.
“We're... we're done arguing?” she stammered out, and he chuckled low in his throat.
“Unless y
ou wanted to talk in more circles about things that we've already talked about, I would certainly hope so.” He returned a hand to her core, lazily tracing the outer lips of her labia. She whimpered at the barely there stimulation that he was providing her, and he couldn't help but smirk at how she was so ready for more of his touch when he had scarcely done anything to begin with. He carded his other hand through her hair then, bringing her gently to his lips, pressing his against hers gently.
His lips were soft and warm and they moved skillfully over hers. She sighed blissfully against his talented mouth, hands wrapping around his back and gripping at his shoulder blades. He grinned against her mouth and slipped a finger past her slick folds.
She keened, pulling away from his kiss and letting her head fall back against the wall again. With a groan, she leaned her body against his. When he kneeled down and pressed his face into her womanly folds, he watched the way that she had to steady herself against the wall, pressing herself harder against it as the pleasure of his tongue licking her sex and his mouth kissing her clit made her entire body quake with want for release. He felt his cock growing harder as he tasted her on his tongue and watched the way that she had already begun to writhe against his clever tongue.
He wrapped his arms around her legs when he began to literally feel them quivering on either side of him from the weight of her steadily building orgasm. He knew that he was going to make her wait for this one, as a way to make them even for making him wait to answer his phone calls and text messages all day. Perhaps it was a little petty, but it gave him ample excuse to tease her mercilessly and draw out her orgasm as long as he possibly could, something he always took great pleasure in, and exploited every chance that he had to do so.
Hang Em' Up: A Bad Boy Sports Pregnancy Romance Page 118