image of that prick. If that’s what last night was for her, I’ll never forgive myself. She’s not a whore for me to use. Not to me. My heart beats faster, slamming against my chest.
The keys jingle against one another as I snatch them quickly off the dresser. I can be a Master worthy of her. Not a sick fuck who uses pain as a threat. I don’t ever want to cause her pain, and I know she doesn’t need it. Even if she thinks she does. Holding the car keys in my hand I walk away from her, intent on leaving both her and my thoughts behind me.
I’m halfway across the room when her soft voice calls out. “Zander?” My name is soft, but also scratchy, the morning evident in her tone.
I stop in my tracks, the floorboards beneath the thick carpet creaking slightly. My body tenses, realizing I have to address her now. She knows I heard her.
I turn slightly, relaxing my body and treating her the same way I treat everyone else. With a facade of ease. It comes naturally.
“Good morning,” I greet her and feel the fake smile on my face without consenting to it.
She props her small body up on her elbow and shoves the hair away from her face. Blinking several times, each time seeming more and more awake, she stifles a yawn and rises slowly into a sitting position gripping the comforter in her hands and bringing it up over her naked body. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s self-conscious or if she doesn’t want me seeing her.
In the soft yellow morning light spilling in between the thick curtains, she looks radiant. I want to see her, every last inch of her, just like I did last night. But it’s only fair that she hides herself behind a blanket, while I hide behind this smile.
Her dark green eyes dart to the bedroom door and then back to me as she asks, “Do you want me to get ready?” Another yawn creeps up on her, and from the look in her eyes she’s obviously embarrassed by her exhaustion.
“You don’t have to,” I say and my voice is strong, slightly harsh perhaps.
“Are you sure?” she asks me sweetly. “I don’t mind… I know you probably don’t want me in here...” Her voice trails off as she picks at the comforter and then laughs a little, this sweet little sound that’s so pure.
My smile softens and I’m moving toward her before I even realize it, my strides easy and comfortable. I have the urge to sit on the bed, she even scoots slightly, making room and straightening a little, although the comforter sags slightly in front of her. Just a glimpse of her cleavage is showing, modest, but tempting. Just like my sweetheart.
I almost sit with her, but then I remember. Her gift.
It was meant to be a thank you for attending last night.
“I got you something,” I tell her without thinking. Instantly, her expression softens. Those sweet lips slowly turn up and her eyes sparkle. I run my hand through my hair, wondering if it’s stupid. All the while I'm going to the closet and gathering the small bag to give to my sweetheart. Her eyes flicker to the empty side of the bed, a warm red hue filling her cheeks. My spot that she made for me.
Utterly gorgeous. A huff of air leaves me as I look at her. She really doesn’t get how tempting she is. How a woman like her could ruin a man like me. Losing control, coming undone all because of her. It’s already happening. And she doesn’t even know it. My feet remain planted where they are, even though my body wills me to sit next to her. I have to hold back.
I clear my throat as I hold the bag out to her. At the faint sound, Arianna finally looks at me. I watch her face as her slender fingers pull the paper away.
The thick wrapping paper crinkles as she pulls the package out of the bag and tears it open from the seams.
The moment she realizes what they are, her eyes brighten and a wide smile makes my chest fill with confidence. She’s so true to her feelings, her reactions so natural.
And she loves the gift.
“Brushes?” she asks me with that smile still on her face. Her eyes aren’t on me though; she’s peeling the last bit of tape from the package of paintbrushes. I had