of the shower. Fuck .
After his shower he pulled on a T-shirt and pair of loose gray sweatpants. He knew he should get some sleep—or at least get some work done—but he was restless. His mind, against his wishes, kept wandering to Bella, who was presumably right downstairs, sleeping in his office. Fuck if he didn’t want to go down there. To find some excuse to go into the office so he could check on her. See her. Look into her gorgeous blue eyes to discern what she was feeling, because it was easy to read her emotions. He could tell, just from looking at her, when she was scared. Or embarrassed. Or turned on.
He groaned in dismay as his dick stiffened slightly again. God, he needed a drink.
Downstairs in the kitchen he listened for a few moments to see if he could hear Bella, before remembering his office was soundproof. Fool , he chided himself, for forgetting something like that but also for being weak. For thinking about Bella in a way he didn’t want to. He was usually so good at controlling his emotions. Directing them. What was different this time?
He was in the mood for wine, so he chose a bottle of Italian red, one of his favorites for its deep taste, velvety and rich, and poured himself a glass. He sipped it thoughtfully as he stood in the kitchen, debating what to do next.
The office door opened. He heard it seconds before he saw Bella emerge, her long blond hair falling gently around her shoulders. She was dressed in a long T-shirt, but it barely covered her ass, which, he was sure, was still red from her belting earlier. When she saw him she started and blushed, then smiled at him. “Hi,” she said.
“Bella.”
“I was just looking for something to drink…” she stuttered. “I’ll just go back to the office till you’re done…”
“Stay.”
She froze in place, then took a step closer to him.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“OK. Yes. Thanks, Kane.”
He poured her some and handed her the glass, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand as she took it. That gesture, that small gesture, tugged at him, somewhere deep down inside. And that was exactly what he didn’t want to feel.
“Join me in the living room,” he said, heading down the hallway without looking back at her, but he could hear her bare feet on the floor, softly following him. He flicked on a Tiffany standing lamp, the warm glow beautiful, and gestured at one of the armchairs. “Please have a seat.”
He watched as Bella sat down in the chair, curling her legs up under her like a child. But there was nothing else about her that was childish. Her breasts swelled under her T-shirt, and he knew so well how they looked though, he realized, he’d never touched them. It was ironic, wasn’t it, that he’d already touched her pussy, made her come hard and fast, but still hadn’t so much as kissed her nipples. Or her lips.
“Is your room comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes. It is. Very.”
“Good. I want you to be safe here.”
“Why do you make me stay the night?” she asked.
He sipped his wine, then thoughtfully ran a finger along the rim of the glass. “I need to make sure you’re all right, Bella.”
“But you’re in a different room. If you’re not even with me, you can’t know if I’m all right or not. So what’s the point?”
She was right, but he felt a flare of anger at the fact that she was questioning him. “The point is, it’s part of our agreement.” Which didn’t answer the question, he knew, but so be it.
She nodded, and then he saw her staring at the Mortlach bottle that sat, still, on the coffee table, right on top of the check she’d written.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments. “About your scotch. I’m really sorry.”
“And that’s why you’re here now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but…” Her voice trailed off, and she was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “But still, I’m sorry. I would never have touched it if I’d known how valuable it
After his shower he pulled on a T-shirt and pair of loose gray sweatpants. He knew he should get some sleep—or at least get some work done—but he was restless. His mind, against his wishes, kept wandering to Bella, who was presumably right downstairs, sleeping in his office. Fuck if he didn’t want to go down there. To find some excuse to go into the office so he could check on her. See her. Look into her gorgeous blue eyes to discern what she was feeling, because it was easy to read her emotions. He could tell, just from looking at her, when she was scared. Or embarrassed. Or turned on.
He groaned in dismay as his dick stiffened slightly again. God, he needed a drink.
Downstairs in the kitchen he listened for a few moments to see if he could hear Bella, before remembering his office was soundproof. Fool , he chided himself, for forgetting something like that but also for being weak. For thinking about Bella in a way he didn’t want to. He was usually so good at controlling his emotions. Directing them. What was different this time?
He was in the mood for wine, so he chose a bottle of Italian red, one of his favorites for its deep taste, velvety and rich, and poured himself a glass. He sipped it thoughtfully as he stood in the kitchen, debating what to do next.
The office door opened. He heard it seconds before he saw Bella emerge, her long blond hair falling gently around her shoulders. She was dressed in a long T-shirt, but it barely covered her ass, which, he was sure, was still red from her belting earlier. When she saw him she started and blushed, then smiled at him. “Hi,” she said.
“Bella.”
“I was just looking for something to drink…” she stuttered. “I’ll just go back to the office till you’re done…”
“Stay.”
She froze in place, then took a step closer to him.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“OK. Yes. Thanks, Kane.”
He poured her some and handed her the glass, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand as she took it. That gesture, that small gesture, tugged at him, somewhere deep down inside. And that was exactly what he didn’t want to feel.
“Join me in the living room,” he said, heading down the hallway without looking back at her, but he could hear her bare feet on the floor, softly following him. He flicked on a Tiffany standing lamp, the warm glow beautiful, and gestured at one of the armchairs. “Please have a seat.”
He watched as Bella sat down in the chair, curling her legs up under her like a child. But there was nothing else about her that was childish. Her breasts swelled under her T-shirt, and he knew so well how they looked though, he realized, he’d never touched them. It was ironic, wasn’t it, that he’d already touched her pussy, made her come hard and fast, but still hadn’t so much as kissed her nipples. Or her lips.
“Is your room comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes. It is. Very.”
“Good. I want you to be safe here.”
“Why do you make me stay the night?” she asked.
He sipped his wine, then thoughtfully ran a finger along the rim of the glass. “I need to make sure you’re all right, Bella.”
“But you’re in a different room. If you’re not even with me, you can’t know if I’m all right or not. So what’s the point?”
She was right, but he felt a flare of anger at the fact that she was questioning him. “The point is, it’s part of our agreement.” Which didn’t answer the question, he knew, but so be it.
She nodded, and then he saw her staring at the Mortlach bottle that sat, still, on the coffee table, right on top of the check she’d written.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments. “About your scotch. I’m really sorry.”
“And that’s why you’re here now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but…” Her voice trailed off, and she was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “But still, I’m sorry. I would never have touched it if I’d known how valuable it
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