by Penelope Sky
She cut into her food and took small bites, eating fewer calories than she did before because she was afraid she would gain weight now that she wasn’t dancing anymore. Her waistline was bigger, and so was her ass.
But I liked it.
“Have you talked to Damien?” It’d been a few weeks since that conversation with her brother.
She shook her head before she took a bite. “No. I thought I would give him space.”
I ate much quicker than her, so I was almost done already. The bottles of wine in my cabinet were all from Barsetti vineyards now, but I’d acquired a taste for it…now that I was too happy to care about shit like that.
“How are things at work?”
“Same.” I wanted to tell her I’d caught Vox to give her peace of mind, and I was disappointed with myself every time I couldn’t. “He doesn’t seem to be anywhere.”
She kept eating and didn’t ask about it further.
I finished my meal then stared at her, drinking the rest of my wine while I waited for her to finish.
When she was done, she did the same, swirling her glass and drinking from it as she looked at me.
The silence was comfortable, like I was sitting across from Balto, where I didn’t feel the need to say something just to fill the silence with words. It was the strongest sense of companionship I’d ever had, to be completely comfortable with another person, to be completely accepted.
She propped her chin on her knuckles as she stared at me. “What?”
I shook my head.
“I can tell you’re thinking.”
“I’m always thinking,” I answered quietly.
“Yeah, but you’re thinking about something specific. I can tell by the look in your eyes.” She took another drink, adding another faint smudge from her lipstick.
I finished the rest of my wine then looked into the empty glass before I regarded her again. I was silent, looking into her green eyes as I considered exactly what to say.
“I’m waiting…”
I’d never been good with words, so I decided not to say anything at all, because she accepted me exactly as I was, all the good and all the bad. I reached into the pocket of my sweatpants and placed my closed fist in the center of the table.
She watched me.
My fingers lightly released it, letting it land gently on the table before I pulled my hand away.
The diamond ring sat there, shining brilliantly under the lamp hanging above us. It was a white gold band with an enormous diamond, ten carats. The band was also studded with small diamonds, equally flawless.
Her eyes got so wide, it looked like they would pop out of her face.
I’d gone to a couple jewelry stores, trying to figure out what she’d want without asking anyone. A few ideas came to mind, from getting a smaller ring or getting something with an emerald or a unique setting. But then I realized she was the most stunning woman I’d ever met, shining like the sun in every room she stepped into. I wanted her ring to be that way, flawless, brilliant, just like the woman who wore it. It was flashy, just like she was. It was noticeable, just like she was. And there was no way any man wouldn’t notice it so they’d stay the fuck away from her.
She continued to stare at it, her eyes not blinking even though it’d been several seconds. “Oh. My. God.” She didn’t touch it, like she wasn’t sure if she was even allowed, and she admired it from a distance. “Jesus, it’s fucking beautiful.” Her hands covered her mouth like she was swallowing a gasp.
She liked it—I could tell.
She finally grabbed the ring with her fingertips, admired it with excited eyes. She had no idea that the diamond reflected a prism of light across her face, brightening up her eyes more. She turned it side to side, her gaze softening as she immediately formed an emotional attachment to it. “It’s exactly what I wanted…” She placed it on her left hand and slid it over the knuckle. Perfect fit. Then she looked at me again, like she didn’t know what to say, where to begin.
“So, you’ll still marry me?” I whispered.
Her eyes crinkled as they softened further, as if my question was ridiculous. “With or without a ring, I’d marry you.”
Sixteen
Catalina
My knees hugged his hips as my ankles rested against his ass. Every time he rocked into me, I squeezed him harder, trying to hold on as he entered me, giving me all of him, until his balls tapped my ass.
My arms were hooked under his shoulders so my nails could claw his back. My left hand felt different, because of the diamond ring that sat there, so heavy it was like holding a bowling ball.
I loved it.
I’d always known I wanted a flashy ring if I ended up with a rich guy, a big-ass diamond in the middle that was so flawless, it looked like it’d been formed under the earth for millions of years. He’d obviously spared no expense. And he got me a ring that competed with his.
I wasn’t going to let my husband have a bigger diamond than me.
I closed my eyes and moaned against his mouth, my fingers digging in deep as I came around him, getting so tight I might break his dick. It was the kind of climax that made me whimper, a strange array of moans escaping my mouth, tears flooding my gaze.
When I finished, he gave his final thrusts, rocking into me while barely pulling out his length like he didn’t want to leave. Then he came quietly, his eyes on my lips as he gave me all his seed. A gentle moan escaped his lips, so quiet it was barely audible. His dick was still hard because it was fucking magic, and he kept going. “First one is just a warm-up.” He rubbed through my wetness and his own come, our bodies so slick that this would last a long time. “Now, we really begin.” One hand moved into my hair, his fingers sliding into the sea of strands that were all over the place. He fisted it then kissed me, giving me a hot embrace with tongue, driving his hard dick inside me over and over.
My hand moved to the center of his shoulder blades, the band from my ring pressing into him. I loved my ring. Picturing myself wearing it while he fucked me turned me on more. This gorgeous man gave it to me; this gorgeous man loved me. It didn’t matter that he’d been with whores and any woman who would give it up in the past. He made me feel special, like I was the only one who mattered.
He was the only one who mattered to me.
He suddenly grabbed both of my hands and pinned them above my head, a single one of his large hands enough to hold both of mine. His fingers covered mine, touching the ring he gave me. His eyes looked into mine, focused and possessive, as if he needed to remind me that I was his.
Oh, I knew.
“I love you.” He spoke against my lips, whispering his truth with a deep voice, turning me on more than I already was. A man who was vulnerable and open with his feelings was the sexiest thing in the world, especially when he only had those feelings for me. He’d never said the words to another woman, never felt anything close to love. But when he’d met me, he knew exactly how to love me, as if the instinct came to him naturally.
I didn’t fight against his hold because I knew I would never win. So, I let him restrain me, looked into his eyes as he kept me down, watching him work his powerful body to please me. “I love you too.”
Christmas was just a week away. I liked the holidays, but I hated the season, and after Christmas, it was January…and I hated January. It was just this long, cold month of nothingness. It sucked.
But Heath kept me warm now, and he would probably keep me warm until spring returned.
I got out of the shower, dried my hair, and put on my face before I looked through my side of the closet to find something to wear. I decided on a long-sleeved dress with thigh-high boots and with my long coat.
I intended to go to Damien’s for lunch, so I walked to my nightstand and pulled the diamond ring off my finger. It was the first time I’d taken it off since Heath gave it to me. It was painful to set it down, to part with the diamond ring I’d become so attached to. It was like having a piece of Heath with me everywhere I
went, even if he wasn’t with me there. It was such a stunning ring. I wanted to show it to Anna, show it to my family.
But that was a really insensitive way to announce my engagement.
Especially since my father didn’t even know about Heath.
I sighed as I looked at it, touched my left hand with my fingertips, my hand suddenly so light…and naked.
Then I left the bedroom and entered the living room. “Oh my god…is that a Christmas tree?”
He secured the base of the tree in the corner, a tall pine that was only a few inches lower than the ceiling. On the counter were boxes of ornaments and lights, like we would decorate it together. He straightened and turned to me. “Do you like it?”
“Who doesn’t like Christmas trees?” I came close to him, smelling the fresh scent of the needles as they filled the living room. I rubbed a green needle between my fingertips, the smell becoming more potent. “Do you always have a tree?”
“No.”
My eyes softened. “So, you did this for me?”
“Baby, you know I do everything for you.” His arm hooked around my waist, and he pulled me close. “Let’s decorate it tonight. I don’t have any personal ornaments—”
“We’ll make our own every year.”
He gave me a slight smile. “I’ve never had a tradition before. Every year, I kinda forget it exists until Balto and I get together.”
“Well, things are about to change.” I turned into him and kissed him as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
His hands immediately went to my ass, underneath my coat and dress. “You look hot, by the way.”
“You always say that.”
He chuckled against my lips. “Well, you do.”
I pulled away, a permanent smile on my face because I was happy, so happy that I forgot there was a possibility that one of Heath’s enemies might hurt one of us. It was easy to forget during romantic bliss.
“Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, I’m going to see my father.”
His eyes glanced down to my left hand, and he immediately looked disappointed to see the ring absent. He looked at me again, his mood noticeably different. “So, this is gonna be a secret forever—”
“I was going to tell him about you today.” I didn’t want to deal with his wrath when we were having such a nice moment. “And I think walking in there with a baseball-sized diamond ring is not the right way to do it. My family is very traditional. You need to ask permission first.”
“Well, I didn’t, and you already said yes.”
“And my answer is still yes, but let’s just put on the show for them.”
He was still irritated. “And if his answer is no?” He’d been hurt by me many times in the past, so now, he was always afraid he might lose me, that something could change and I’d walk out the door for good.
“My answer is yes—no matter what.”
He finally relaxed, the irritation in his expression fading away like smoke from a dying fire. “Should I come with you?”
“I think I should just talk to him alone. I don’t know what his reaction will be, and if I bring you, it might overwhelm him. He’s very intelligent, but he’s also over seventy, so he gets worked up sometimes.”
“Alright. But I’d like to talk to him—man-to-man.”
“You will.” I turned to the kitchen counter to grab my purse.
“I’ll take you.”
“No, it’s okay—”
“It wasn’t a question.” He grabbed his keys and wallet and headed to the stairs.
Caught up in our joy, I’d forgotten about our current situation, that he didn’t want me going anywhere alone…just in case.
He pulled up to the curb right outside the double doors that led to the three-story mansion Damien called home. “I’ll wait out here until you’re done.”
“It might be a while.”
“Then I’ll grab lunch and eat it in the truck. Just text me when you’re going to leave soon.”
“Alright.” I leaned over the middle seat and kissed him.
His hand cupped my cheek, and he kissed me hard, like he didn’t want me to forget what we had in case my father hated him as much as Damien did. Heath had never been insecure, never been anything but potently confident, but now he wasn’t quite himself.
I pulled back and licked my lips. “Heath, you think I’m going to go anywhere after you gave me that gorgeous ring?”
“You could find another guy to buy you one just like it.”
I’d meant to make a lighthearted joke, but it didn’t land. “Nothing is going to change. I promise.”
He struggled to believe me, and he still wore a wary gaze.
“Standing up to my brother doesn’t prove my credibility?”
He stared at me with an unreadable gaze, like he was in a poker match and didn’t want to reveal his cards. “Your brother is not your father. It’s a very different relationship. No daughter wants to marry a man her father doesn’t approve of. So…I’m not sure what will happen once you tell him.”
My hand moved to his. “We’re spending our lives together, Heath. Period.” I stared at him with my fiery expression, telling him that I had my mind made up, that my choice was as clear as a message written in black ink on white paper.
He brought my hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles. “Go.”
I couldn’t convince him further. He would just have to wait and see. “Love you.” I leaned over and kissed him again before I got out of the truck.
“Love you too.” His deep voice followed me before I shut the door.
I walked into the house without looking back, chatting briefly with Patricia before I entered the dining room.
My father was old-fashioned, so he still got dressed up, even for a casual lunch. He wore a sweater-vest over a collared shirt along with a sport coat. All he needed was a pocket watch, and he would look like a historical figure plucked out of the 1920s.
The second he saw me, his eyes lit up, just the way they used to when he looked at my mother. “Sweetheart, you look beautiful.” He got to his feet and kissed me on the cheek.
“Thanks, Dad. You look pretty cute in that outfit.” I shed my coat and placed it over the back of the chair before I sat down.
He looked down at his sleeves. “Patricia picked it out for me. It’s thick and stuffy, can barely move my arms, but she makes my meals so…”
“She has great taste.”
Patricia came in a moment later and brought cappuccinos along with our lunch. Then she left us alone to talk.
We made small talk, discussing my ankle, Damien’s wedding date, and the weather.
“When do you think you can go back to the ballet?” he asked.
The theatre always took a winter break during January, so it wouldn’t be until February, assuming I could perform again. “Sometime around Valentine’s Day. I’ve been continuing physical therapy, and I feel like I’m getting stronger every day. This is the first time I’ve been able to wear heels.”
“I was never worried about you making a full recovery,” he said before he sipped his coffee. “You’re such a driven person.”
“Well…thanks.” He sounded like Heath.
“So, Christmas will be exciting this year, with a new member of our family.”
“Yeah…” I would love it if there were two new members. “You know, Dad…there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You can tell me anything.” He waved me forward. “Go ahead. Speak your mind.” He slid his spoon into the bowl of soup then dragged the bottom across the edge of the dish before he placed it in his mouth. It was chicken noodle, to make our stomachs warm on this cold day.
I couldn’t be as candid as he encouraged me to, as much as I would like to be. It was a delicate situation, and now that the moment was upon us, I was so nervous. My heart was racing like I was on the treadmill…or having sex with Heath. “You remember how I told you I was seeing someone?”
He continued to eat, but he did pause for a second to look at me. “Yes. Damien didn’t care for him.”
“Yes.”
Now, he stirred his soup without eating, interested in what I had to say next.
“Well, Damien has kind of had a change of heart about it. Said he’s willing to give him a try.”
“Oh, that’s good news for you. You know how men are—butt heads a lot because they’re stubborn.”
I wished it were that simple. “Dad, the thing is…Damien has every right to feel the way he does. He’s not overreacting. His feelings aren’t unfounded. But…I feel like this man isn’t the same person he used to be. He’s changed. And I think he deserves a fresh start…because I love him.” I’d just told my father I loved a man, and my heart was about to explode with anxiety. I knew I would only have this conversation with him if I were going to get married, because I wasn’t going to bring a guy around unless that was the kind of future I pictured for us.
He dropped the spoon, taking the weight of my words with complete seriousness. “You love this man?”
I nodded. “Yeah…I do.”
“If you love him despite what he’s done, I’m sure you have a good reason. You’re a smart woman with impeccable judgment.”
My eyes softened so much I thought I might cry.
“I’m sure Damien agrees.”
Not in the slightest. “He wants to meet you. But I thought we should talk first…”
“Alright. I’m ready to listen whenever you’re ready to speak.”
“Well…” There was no way I could phrase any of this to make Heath sound good. He was the villain, no matter how I explained it. “We both know what Damien does. Heath has been an adversary—”
“His name is Heath?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Heath basically demanded taxes from Damien because he runs the city, at least underground. When Damien refused…they didn’t get along. And then to make Damien pay for his defiance…he took you.”
My father slowly understood what I was saying, the light of comprehension coming into his eyes.