Provoked (Forbidden Crush #2)

Chapter 16

16

“Rose invited me to come visit and see the baby,” Ingrid says quietly after I’ve taken a healthy bite of the hamburger she brought me.

I swallow my instinctive ‘hell no’ along with the beef. My eyes narrow when Ingrid adds innocently, “I think you should go back to New York when I leave for the west coast and put some serious thought into what you want from a relationship with me. If you want one at all, that is. If you’ll do that, I’ll meet you back in New York briefly so we can discuss things calmly and determine if we have any common ground.”

I blink at the suddenly determined jut to her jaw. “I don’t know why you didn’t want to come work at the law firm. Seems like negotiating is your hidden talent,” I mutter, not prepared to give in easily, even though I like the essence of her plan.

“Two weeks, Ingrid. I don’t want you gone for months on end. You have two weeks to visit your friend and then I expect you on a direct flight to La Guardia.”

She shakes her pale blond head. “Not exactly. No, dear. I want us to meet on semi-neutral territory so I’ll meet you in upstate New York in your old home town. I want to see it and meet your relatives anyway.”

“How is that neutral territory? I’m related to half the town!”

Her brown eyes twinkle with delight. “I know. And they know all your childhood secrets and you don’t want to be there. So, ergo, it’s neutral enough for my purposes. Something tells me you’ll yell a lot less in that particular location because anyone who overhears you is likely to spread it everywhere.”

She’s not wrong. Just one of many reasons I hate small towns. But maybe if Ingrid sees what a pain it is to be surrounded by people that want in on all your business, she’ll reconsider the benefits of the big city. “Fine. Do we have a deal?”

Ingrid’s smile slowly fills her face. “Seriously? I was prepared to offer pie but if…”

I growl and use the hand she extends for a businesslike shake to pull her down and seize those perfect lips. She tastes of ketchup and a sweetness all her own. “What kind of pie is it?”

“Cherry?“ she whispers, her pink tongue swiping over her full lower lip.

“You aren’t sure?” I tease her before sucking gently on that tempting bit of flesh. Her little gasp reminds me just how innocent she is. Something both protective and predatory swells in my chest. Like a dragon needing to hide her in the back of the cave, but only so he can be the one to make her smile with delight.

“I’m sure,” Ingrid answers sweetly, and I’m no longer sure we’re discussing dessert .

I lead with that anyway. “If you bring me some pie, I’ll tell you a bedtime story.” I leer at her wolfishly.

Ingrid, ever suspicious of my motives, isn’t buying it. “What kind of story?” she demands with narrowed eyes.

“The kind that will have you begging me to let you cum. But if you’re not interested…” I let my words hang in the air.

Ingrid stands and stares at me with uncertainty. She hesitates and then takes one step back. “Fine. But only because I don’t really believe you know any stories like that, and I want you to prove it.”

I lie back with a chuckle when she’s gone. I’m beyond baffled by the way her brain works and now I have to come up with something that won’t shock her too much, but just enough. Maybe I should tell her my own version of the duke? Naw — that guy is a loser, too bound in propriety to seize the sweet armful right in front of him. I’d better stick closer to home. An evil grin spreads over my face despite my eyes being closed. I always love being efficient and this might accomplish two things at once.

Ingrid returns in just a few minutes, preceded by the heavenly scent of cherry pie fresh from the oven. Or at least that’s what I’m assuming, since it’s warm and luscious. I sit up to better do it justice when she hands me a fork.

“Damn good pie, Ingrid,” I congratulate her when I can manage not to stuff the next forkful in my mouth.

She blushes with pride. “Thanks. I’ve booked a flight to Vancouver for the day after tomorrow. Rose says that’s closer than flying into Seattle.”

I nod. “Probably better that way. If Margot is attempting to keep track, she’ll assume you’re staying in Canada and she won’t want to risk customs, anyway. But I still want Fred to take you to the airport, make sure you’re not being followed.”

She frowns. “But that will leave you here on your own. That doesn’t sound like a good idea. ”

“I can manage, sweetness. Plus, she doesn’t have any real reason to come for me. Not now that the money is yours.”

Ingrid looks ready to argue, but then she shuts her mouth abruptly and sighs. “I’m going to call and check in at every opportunity, then.”

I smile at that. It’s rather a novel concept having someone worry about me, particularly now that I’m well enough to appreciate it. “You let me know when you’re ready for bedtime. That pie deserves an epic story.”

The look she sends me is full of derision. “You’ve got nothing, Wilde. I can tell because you’re overselling it big time.”

When I don’t yell or retort in any fashion, she suddenly looks nervous. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen. I’ll see you later.” And she beats a hasty retreat down the stairs.

I’m wary of this new flirtatious Justin. It’s not that I don’t like him, but I can sense the dangerous undertow that could just pull me in and pummel my unsophisticated heart. However, my body wants to lean in eagerly like he’s become magnetic.

So I force myself to tidy up the kitchen with methodical care. When I’m out of excuses and Fred has checked in to say goodnight, I float back up the stairs.

Justin is reading in bed, his glasses perched on his elegant nose, making him even more intimidating than usual despite the casualness of being in bed. His smile borders on a smirk.

“If you’re going to insist on wearing clothing to bed, make sure it provides easy access,” he warns me without looking up from his tablet.

My footsteps falter on the way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. My body floods with awareness and my belly clenches. I pretend to ignore him and continue, but his words stay on repeat in my brain. It takes me an inordinately long time to decide on what to wear to bed. I have no doubt if he deems it not to have ‘easy access’, he’ll simply strip me without a word. I’m feeling entirely too vulnerable to open myself to that. So in the end I choose a long t-shirt style night gown. It reaches to my knees and I’ve always been in the airing out camp when it comes to wearing underwear to bed. Then I take three deep breaths and open the door.

Thankfully, Justin has already dimmed the lights, so my flaming cheeks are less obvious. I hope. I still don’t really believe he can deliver on something hot enough to make me beg. I mean, come on, I’ve been reading steamy romance from far more experienced storytellers for years. But it may be excruciating watching Justin attempt it.

Lying stiffly in the bed, I wait. I can sense Justin hesitating. Then he reaches for my hand and brings it to his mouth, placing a soft dry kiss on my palm. “Relax, Ingrid. This isn’t meant to be torture. At least not the kind you need to dread.” His voice is dry and full of self-deprecating humor.

Some of the tension flows out of my bones. “Then why are you waiting? If it’s that easy, surely you would just dive right in?” I ask sweetly.

Justin growls out a laugh. “Fine. Once upon a time, there was a young woman living in New York,”

I humph in protest. “I don’t like where this story is going. Why can’t she live in LA or New Orleans?”

“Whose story is this?” He takes a breath and starts again. “As I was saying, she lived in New York on the upper East Side, so she was comfortable but very lonely. She was mostly sweet, but sometimes her temper got the better of her and she would flounce off in a huff instead of telling the people who cared about her what was bothering her.”

A swift but shallow jab of my elbow in his midsection earns only a minor retaliation of another kiss to my hand. I didn’t use very much force. He is still recovering, after all.

“Anyway, our girl passes her time helping her friends and doing artistic creative things with all the bits and pieces she picks up as she travels around the city. But then one day she runs into one of her father’s friends. He’s older, but still incredibly handsome and charming.”

Justin pauses like he’s waiting for the heckling to pass, but I can only hold myself still, my breath barely moving in and out of my body. This story is definitely picking up.

“And?” I finally prompt him.

He chuckles. “And this man finally sees what she’s been trying to tell everyone without words. That she has a big heart with a lot of love to give and that she has needs too. She needs to be seen, to be taken seriously, and she desperately needs to be touched. She needs his hands stroking the length of her body, teaching her what tenderness and care and respect really look like.”

I gulp and my body moves closer to him of its own volition until I find myself pressed against his side.

“The man decides he can be the one to show her all this. The rest of the world had their chance to deliver and failed to do so. Now it’s his turn.”

I hold my breath, waiting desperately for what comes next.

“The man understands that she’s more nervous about change than being with him, so he takes things very slowly. But not so slow that she doesn’t understand his intentions. He starts by calling her every morning when he knows she’ll still be in bed. At first she’s annoyed, but before long she’s complaining if it’s not what wakes her up first. So he starts calling her in the evening as well to wish her a good night. But he becomes worried that she’s staying in all the time and not occasionally going out with friends. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely doesn’t want her dating, but he’s not trying to hide her away from having fun, so he tells her he’ll only wish her good night at her door from then on. In person.”

My breath catches. Does that mean he’s going to kiss her?

Justin’s chuckle makes me realize I said that out loud.

“So the man takes her out. At first, he’s human enough to try to impress her. With the ballet and the opera, but he can’t really watch her there the way he wants to, and it seems more like venues where people go to be seen rather than enjoy the company they’re with. So instead he takes her to funny little second-hand shops and ethnic bakeries where they sample things neither of them can pronounce. She laughs at him endlessly, but he doesn’t mind because her eyes are happy and she appears to constantly be finding excuses to direct them his way.

And every night when he takes her to her door, he says good night and kisses her on her forehead.”

My growl of annoyance does not go unnoticed. Justin raises an eyebrow of warning in my direction.

“Then one day a few weeks later she reaches up and kisses him full on the mouth. It’s hard to say which one of them was more shocked by her action but it broke something in his self control. He simply had to taste her, to put his mark on her.”

Instinctively, my hand goes to my throat to touch the spot where Justin had done exactly that. I swallow hard.

“When the young woman attempts to bring him inside her apartment, he tells her no. He’ll pick her up the following evening and she’ll spend that night at his place. He tells her to pack a bag but not plan on going out. Then he leaves, abruptly, but it’s all he can do if he’s not going to take her up against the door and scare the shit out of her.”

I turn fully on my side so I can watch Justin’s face more easily as he talks.

“The young woman spends that night and the next day restless and anxious. She wants what’s coming, but she doesn’t want anything to change. And she knows she can’t have both. She’s also intelligent and knows that nothing changing won’t last long forever, no matter what she chooses. By the time the man calls for her, she’s calm once again. So much so that he’s worried. But he, too, is reassured when she reaches up to kiss him sweetly and looks him in the eyes. ‘I love you,’ she tells the man. And everything in him crumbles.”

My eyes feel wet. And I no longer care about the bet or the sexy part of the story. I’m not sure if Justin is even aware of what he’s saying behind the words of this nameless couple. But I know. I scoot up in the bed so I can kiss him. Sweetly but with a bit more passion than he was describing. He seems receptive…