Chewing slowly, she took a gulp of water from her glass. “It’s good,” she admitted quietly.
“Good. Now, finish it.” I took my fork and knife back up, counting on the rest of my team to resume their playful banter and diminish the awkward turn lunch had taken.
When her plate was clean I gave her a nod that told her she was safe from me—for now. She scurried away from the table, quick as you please. I couldn’t help but laugh. She had so much to learn. And I was more than happy to instill the lessons into her.
On the drive home, Bella was quiet.
“How was your first day?” I asked, casually, pretending my fingers hadn’t dawdled in her most intimate places just hours ago.
“Good.”
“So, what do you eat, you know, at home?”
“The truth?”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t going to spank me for it?”
“No, but if you try to pull a stunt like that at lunch on the ranch I will pull you over my lap and roast your—”
She was quick to answer my question. “Ice cream.”
“You mean you like to have ice cream for dessert?”
“No, I mean that is what I eat. Ice cream. It has calcium, protein, vitamin D—”
“And sugar and not much else. Are you being serious with me?”
“Yes. I eat ice cream. I also eat cookies sometimes. Once in a while, when I’m feeling healthy I’ll heat up a can of soup. But I don’t do cooking.”
“What does Oliver eat when he visits you?”
She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, we go out. You know, happy meals, that kind of thing. And all the ice cream he can eat. He’s thrilled with the arrangement.” I passed the exit for her house.
“What are you doing? You just passed my house. Where are we going?” she asked incredulously, looking over her shoulder as we passed the green sign for Peach Street.
“A little pitstop.”
She sat quietly, a curious look on her face as I drove down Main Street. I took a right just before we hit downtown, heading for the very same HEB she used to work at.
Pulling in the parking lot of the grocery store, her nose wrinkled in distaste as she said, “You’re taking me grocery shopping.”
“I am. We are going in there and I am going to buy you some real food then I am going to take you home and teach you how to cook it.” Detecting a sigh laden with a hint of disdain from Bella’s side of the car, I turned towards her, grabbed her knee in my hand and squeezed.
“Or, our second option is I bend you over my lap right across this bench seat, heat up your ass, then take you in there with tears in your eyes and buy you some real food. Then take you home and teach you how to cook it while you stand next to me with a sore butt. Your choice.”
Eyeing me warily, she unbuckled her seat belt.
“Good girl.”
Strolling through the store, a rickety wheel on the cart making a click clack noise as we went along, I filled the basket with heaps of real food. Steaks, ground beef—grocery store meat would have to do for now—I’d be sure to send her home with the real stuff from the ranch next week, chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes. Her eyes grew wider with each addition to the silver basket.
“I don’t know what to do with any of that stuff.”
“I’ll show you.”
“What if I don’t like the way it tastes.”
I stopped the cart. Turning towards her, my brow raised. A little pickiness in a child I could tolerate. Out and out refusal to eat new foods in a grown woman, I could not. I stared at her hard and waited.
A blush rose to her cheeks and her eyes cast downward. She sheepishly muttered, “Sorry.”
“You will eat the food whether you like it or not.” Returning to pushing the cart at a leisurely pace, I said, “My mama taught me to cook and thus far all I’ve gotten is compliments.”
I had to hide a smile watching her warily eyeing the bag of onions as I added them to the growing pile in the cart.
Back at her house, I put her to work washing dishes while I prepped the veggies for the week. Might as well cook it all and put it into the containers I had purchased at the HEB—I had a feeling the only way she would eat the food I prepared was if it was ready to go into the microwave.
The kitchen filled with the scent of lavender.
“Why are you washing dishes with body soap?”
“I was out of dish soap.”
“Why didn’t you say something at the store?”
“I didn’t think of it.”
Walking over to the coffee table I grabbed the pen and paper I had earlier seen hanging out of its messy drawer. I grabbed a blank sheet, securing it to the fridge with a Smokey the Bear and a South of the Border magnet.
“This,” I said, pointing at the paper, “is a grocery list. When you run out of something, you write it here and then you take it to the store with you when you go.” With the pen, I carefully wrote out the words, ‘dish soap’.
Squeezing the empty bottle, she said, “You’d better add body soap to that list while you are at it.”
Eyeing two overflowing black garbage bags of dirty clothes in the corner of the kitchen, I asked, “And laundry detergent? Is that why you have so many dirty clothes? You ran out?”
“I just haven’t gotten to the laundromat. And now with the car broken down I don’t know when I will. Can’t get there if I’m not allowed to hitchhike.” The idea of Bella with her thumb stuck out on the side of the road flashed in my mind making my spine go rigid. The thought of her at the laundromat, alone in the dead of night made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Even just the thought of another man getting a peak at her underwear when she washed it had me on edge.
“You can bring it to the ranch tomorrow. Switch loads on your break.”
I watched as she bristled at my suggestion. The independent woman who would not accept help but was doing a piss poor job taking care of herself. Or maybe she was just embarrassed by the idea of bringing her dirty clothing to work. Either way sometimes in life you just have to do what needs to be done—one of Mama’s little anecdotes.
My hand instinctively wrapped around the back of her neck, drawing her in to me.
“You will bring that laundry tomorrow. And you will eat healthy. And you will keep this house clean.”
I watched as her baby blue eyes went from wide, to narrowed. Storm clouds gathered in the pools of blue. She did not want to be bossed around. But what we want and what we need in this world are often two entirely different things—another one of Mama’s favorite sayings.
“You can’t tell me what to do in my personal life,” she said, her voice equal parts desire and venom.
My guess was that if I were to reach my fingertips down, she would be dripping wet from my commands.
“Says who?” My grip around her neck tightened tangling into the mass of fiery golden glinting hair. My other hand found its way to the generous curve of her bottom. “You? I’d like to see you try and stop me, half pint.”
Her eyes told me her thoughts—she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or fuck me. I made the decision for her. My mouth went to hers, locking her in a heated kiss. Pressing my lips to hers hard enough to leave a bruise, my tongue entered her mouth, taking possession of its insides.
She gave a sigh, her body betraying her and melting against mine. I shifted my knee so that my upper thigh was resting under her untamed kitty. With a groan, she began to grind against me.
Naughty girl.
I had made assumptions about Bella Buchanan’s desires. I grinned as I kissed her reveling in the knowledge that my guess was accurate—this little redhead was insatiable, loved to be dominated, and came hard and fast.
Fuck the rules I had established for myself. Fuck the penance that I kept paying. Fuck the fucked-up mistakes that were over a decade in my past.
I would have Bella Buchanan.
And I would love her in the way she needed and wanted
to be loved.
My hand untangled from her mass of hair trailing slowly down the arch of her back. Reaching its destination, my cock hardened against the denim of my jeans as both of my hands grabbed the sweet curves of that full bottomed ass. If ice cream was what had created this work of art, I’d be a fool to remove it from her diet. My fingertips dug into the magical place where the curve ends, and the tops of her thighs began. With my hands full of her I squeezed, my tongue still exploring the cave of her mouth as she gasped and raised up onto the tips of her toes.
I pulled away from her whispering the words, “Are you clean?”
Her eyes snapped open and she asked in a shocked voice, “What? You know I’m out of body soap.”
“I mean—have you been tested?”
A flush rose to her face. “Yes—after my last boyfriend. He was… unfaithful.” A delicate eyebrow rose in a beautiful, curious arch. “What about you?”
“Freefall alcohol recovery program tests all its new recruits. I was clean.”
“But that was ten years ago.”
“I know.”
“You haven’t… since then?”
“No. I told you I was done making mistakes in my life.”
“That’s a long time. You’re kind of like a… virgin,” she giggled, poking at my ribs.
I gave a deep chuckle. “I assure you—your experiences with me will be anything but virginal.”
Her smile suddenly melted off her face, replaced by a worried looking frown. “But what if this is a mistake? What if I am a mistake?”
“I waited ten years for you, Bella. You are no mistake. A handful, yes. A little girl who is in dire need of discipline and guidance, yes. A mistake? Never.”
I watched as my words settled in. She looked noticeably calmer from my assurances. Her brow raised again. “I am on birth control, just so you know.”
Birth control. Why would my Bella need birth control if we hadn’t slept together? The admission made the back of my neck go red hot. The blood was boiling within my veins. My brain screamed the completely irrational thought of ‘how dare she sleep with other men’. Just as I was about to demand the name and number of every man she was sleeping with, so I could hunt them down and kill them, she continued her speech.
“But I haven’t needed it in quite some time,” she shyly admitted. “It’s just that it regulates my… periods.” Her porcelain hands went to her face as she gave a mortified groan. “That’s too much information for a first date, isn’t it?”
Relieved I was the only one, I pulled her tightly towards me. “Oh, this isn’t a first date. A first date is where I take you out, spoil you and show you off to the world. This is a first fuck. It’s where I show you what you have been missing all the times you’ve been with men who weren’t me.”
Business out of the way, her blue eyes turned up towards mine and locked in. Once again, her sweet body melted against mine. My mouth joined hers. Wet and warm and hitting the core of my being.
“You know I’m still your boss at work, right?” I murmured between kisses.
“Seems like my personal boss as well.”
“That sounds about right. Think you can handle me being both?”
“Yes.”
“You need me to be both?”
“Yes.”
“You need a man who can spoil you, take care of you, and teach you to take care of yourself.”
“Yes.”
“A man who will spank your ass when you don’t?”
“Yes.”
“And a man who will fuck you senseless when you need to be fucked.”
“Yes.”
“Like right now?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Leading her over to the saggy old couch that would eventually have to go, I laid Bella down on its cushions. My eyes never leaving hers I unbuttoned the little gold button that held her jeans in place. Tugging on the zipper, I watched as the metal teeth came apart, exposing a glint of red curls.
“Lift.”
She obeyed, and her hips raised in the air. I pulled the denim from her waist and over the curve of her bottom, down her shapely legs and over her petite feet.
Throwing the jeans over my shoulder, I took in the vision of her, bare from the waist down. The features of her beautiful face looked nervous, unsettled even. I could cure that. Reaching down, I parted her red curls with the tips of my fingers. My gentle touch elicited a gasp from her. I like what I saw—her pretty kitty all wet and ready. With my tongue I traced a line from the place I would soon drive my cock into, up slowly to the pink nub that would give her ecstasy. My tongue ran circles around that nub, faster and faster. Her hips were grinding and bucking against my mouth. I grabbed one ass cheek in each of my hands, squeezing tightly—I knew my girl loved her ass to be touched.
My tongue continued to move up and down, around and around, licking and sucking. Her whimpers turned to mews then to cries as she screamed out, “Oh my fucking God, Garrett Love!” That was when her pelvis jolted straight up in the air and froze for a half a second before her entire body convulsed.
I knew what had to happen next. Within seconds, I had the metal buckle of my belt undone and my hardened cock freed from my jeans. While she was still quivering from her orgasm, I plunged the full hardness of my cock deep within the cavern of her wetness. Her eyes shut, her back arched, her moan filled the room as I filled her.
As hard as I could, I plunged within her depths again. Grabbing ahold of the back of her head, I leaned my chest down over hers, and thrust again. She cried out as my erection pumped into her. I could feel her wet pussy clenching around my member as I thrust again and again. Within seconds, I could tell we were both getting so close. Always one to hold back—waiting to come, I didn’t want to. I wanted to come with her and this fiery, little redhead sure knew how to pull the trigger quickly.
Reading her moans and screams and inner tightening, I knew it was near. Two more hard thrusts and I had her where I wanted her. As her pussy locked on my cock, I came—right there with her. Ten years of sexual frustration exploded in one long burst. Bella made a beautiful cat like noise, her back high in the air and her entire being locked around mine as she came.
With heavy pants, I laid upon her, her sweaty brow against mine as her arms wrapped around my back. Silently, wordlessly, we laid on that couch. Knowing that all my life I had not known a partner who could match the type of veracity I had just experienced with Bella.
Later as she was laying on my chest, tracing bare circles on my skin, she whispered, “It’s never been like that before.”
“For me either,” I answered honestly.
Sitting up on her elbow, she gave me a curious look. “I wonder why?”
“We are just a match, I guess.”
“I guess so.” Leaning down, her head lay back on my chest. “A perfect match.”
Chapter 3
Bella
When he left, the bungalow just felt—empty. Sad even. I clicked on the TV for some company, throwing myself on the couch with a pint of Cherry Garcia. Who was I kidding? I was living for the clock to say seven a.m., when the impatient honk would come, and I would be back on the bench seat of the truck with Garrett Love.
Looking down into the pink carton, I wondered if there really was something to what Garrett had told me. That protein and vegetables were the clear winner over a dinner of delicious ice cream. Putting my half-eaten carton back in the freezer, I grabbed a container of the stir fry Garrett had made. ‘Microwave for two minutes’, the bossy but perfectly lettered handwriting on the lid boasted.
“What the heck? Maybe it will be good.”
I took the lid off, as per my instructions, and re-heated the beef, broccoli and peppers swimming in sauce.
When the two minutes were up, I took the clear dish from the microwave, blowing to cool it. Taking a bite, I was surprised at the savory flavors that burst in my mouth. The man could cook.
I
devoured the food, realizing that afterward I felt satiated. Usually, post ice cream dinner, I just felt empty and guilty.
Changing channels, I flipped to a show that was about a dating game—how well two couples knew one another. Sadly, I realized though I had slept with Garrett, letting him enter the most intimate folds of my body, I did not know much about the trivial things, the important things about his personality. Without hesitation, I picked up my cell phone beside me and dialed the number to ‘Boss Man’, Garrett had programmed it into my phone just before he had left me for the night.
“Hello?” he answered on the first ring.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.” He answered decisively. “But not the bright blue like the sky on a cloudless day. The deep blue-green that the ocean turns to before a storm. Do you know that blue?”
“Yes. I have a necklace with a gemstone that is about that color. A dark blue-green sapphire.”
“Did an old boyfriend give it to you?”
“Ex-husband actually.”
“I’ll have to fix that.”
“How?”
“Give you something prettier. From me.”
I smiled into the phone.
“I sent you something. Did it get there, yet?”
I looked to the quiet front door. “You only left an hour ago. What could it be?”
As if by magic, there was a knock at the door.
“Is that them?
“Is that who?” I stood from my seat, going to the front door. When I opened it, I revealed two big, strong men, and between them on a dolly was a brand-new Whirlpool washing machine.
“Oh my gosh,” I cried, covering my gaping mouth with my hand. “It’s a washer.”
“There is a dryer too. I called over at the local appliance store and they were more than happy to deliver at the last minute. Seems they had a surplus. Call me later.”
“Okay—um thanks!”
I showed the men into the completely empty laundry room that had come with the place—luckily the one room I had managed to not fill to the brim with absolute crap. Knowing I would never be able to afford my own washer and dryer I had kind of left the room empty like a shrine, willing the appliance fairies to look down upon me fondly and one-day grace me with the gift of a clothes washer.
Boss Of Her Heart (Dirty Texas Love Book 1) Page 5