“You never cease to amaze me, Emily,” I muttered through my heavy breaths. And her returning smile was one to behold forever. Her face glowed with sheer joy and triumph.
God, I love this woman
, I thought, as I pulled her head to mine and kissed her hungrily. I owed her an orgasm now, I suppose. Well, that was my excuse anyway as I swiftly flipped her over, reversing our positions, and quickly relieved her of her clothing as I felt my manhood begin to twitch once more.
This woman, I was certain, would be my undoing.
“Breakfast is served, Mr Scott.” I heard her almost teasing voice echo from the kitchen as I shrugged my black t-shirt over my head.
I swung a towel lazily around my neck to catch any last remaining droplets from my freshly washed hair and headed out of the bedroom. The smell of cooked bacon never failed to make me feel instantly ravenous. I hadn’t even realised I was hungry until the delicious scent filled my senses and my stomach growled in response. Emily smiled adoringly at me as I took my seat at the breakfast bar, and I read the familiar wanting in her eyes, the very eyes that did such a despicable job at hiding any single emotion or thought from me. I felt my own eyes narrow, in response to her heated stare, and she blushed as I flashed her a lopsided grin. I had no clue as to why she blushed so frequently, I only wished I knew what she was thinking when she did.
“You’re blushing again, Miss Braxton,” I informed her, matter-of-factly, as I wiped at a stray droplet of water that tickled my skin as it rolled down my temple.
“You look good with wet hair.” A perfectly defined brow rose in an almost suggestive manner - almost.
Did I? I hadn’t pictured messy, still dripping wet hair as being a particularly attractive style. Mind you, as I watched her as she carefully spread a thin layer of butter onto a slice of toast, her own dampened hair hanging loosely over her chest, I must admit, it was a very appealing sight. Yes, there was something strangely sexy about wet hair, I suppose. I felt the familiar twitch between my thighs and tried to force my thoughts in a different direction. I was like an animal around Emily, constantly finding myself aroused by such ridiculous circumstances that really shouldn’t be arousing in the slightest. Like watching her throat tighten as she gulped down a mouthful of tea, or watching her jaw move in an almost sensuous rhythm as she chewed on a small bite of toast. Seriously, how could any of this be even slightly erotic?
Bacon,
I thought to myself,
I’m starving!
“I’ll need to go down to The Lounge at some point later to see what damage has been done; I’ll drop you home first.” I tore my focus away from her perfectly pouted lips and tried desperately to follow a normal line of conversation.
“I can come with you, if you like?” she replied, with the small hitch in her voice that always revealed her nerves. Why was she nervous? Was I really that much of an arsehole that she felt she couldn’t simply invite herself along with me?
“I’d rather you didn’t come, to be honest.”
Yep! I really was an arsehole, no wonder she felt that way. Why did I insist on pushing people away? I wouldn’t see her suffer anymore because of her past. I didn’t want her to go back into the club so soon, to see the blackened evidence of what had very nearly happened to her there last night, the evidence of what I had done there last night.
But she wouldn’t know that, would she.
Her eyes flickered down to the mug in her hand as she accepted my rejection and a pang of guilt shot through my stomach.
“I don’t want you being reminded of him, Emily, that’s all,” I explained as I read the hurt behind her eyes.
“It’s fine, I should go home to Maia anyway,” she assured me before inhaling deeply and holding the breath in its place. “So, are you going to tell me what really happened last night?”
“No, probably not,” I said casually, allowing my gaze to drift down to my breakfast.
I sighed heavily, realising that once again I was being sharper than necessary but somehow finding it difficult to communicate in any other way. No, I couldn’t tell her what had really happened. As much as I wanted to be honest with her, she would be disgusted if she knew, and I simply couldn’t risk losing her. My actions were not ones of a stable human being. I was a menace. How could I tell her that I had beaten the father of her child so badly that he was barely recognisable, and how I hadn’t stopped until he was unconscious and in a twisted heap on the floor? And, not content with that, I had then set fire to the room, knowing full well that there was no way he would get out, he couldn’t. I had frightened her once before with a brief glimpse of this very side of my nature, and I wasn’t going to do it again. I would make sure that this woman never had to feel afraid again.
When she had pleaded with me to leave with her, after I had dragged Jay off her, the fear behind her eyes was agonising to witness. She had looked petrified, so vulnerable and in need of protection, there was no way I could have left with her and allowed Jay to live, no matter how much she begged me. He had done that to her. He had mentally destroyed her once before and I’d have been damned if I had have given him the chance to do it again. As much as it had crushed me to order Ryan to force her from the room whilst she begged and screamed for me, it didn’t even compare to that feeling when I had looked into her terrified eyes. I would make sure I never had to look into those again.
“Okay.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she stood and placed her plate in the sink before turning and disappearing into the bedroom.
I was doing it again, and I knew it. I was hurting the one and only woman I had ever cared for by distancing myself from her, over and over again. I didn’t know any other way. I had never allowed myself to so much as even care for a woman, let alone to love one. This was a concept I was struggling with. I just had this overwhelming need to protect her, yet I couldn’t seem to bring myself to just explain this to her. So, instead, I let her believe I was a cold hearted bastard.
When Emily emerged from the bedroom, she was wheeling a small case with one hand whilst the other held onto a tatty old rucksack.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my astonishment evident in my raised tone.
“Going home, like you said.” Her voice was weak, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she had been crying. Her eyes looked reddened and slightly swollen.
Never mind distancing myself from Emily, now I was apparently rejecting her entirely without even realising I was doing it. Would it always be this way? Would I continue to make her cry, over and over, for as long as I allowed her to love me?
“I never said I wanted you to go home,” I said, my voice raising at the end of my sentence, making it sound more like a question than a statement. I managed to keep my voice steady though, I didn’t want to reveal just how disappointed I was by the thought of her not being in my apartment when I got home.
“You said you would take me home before you went to the club.”
“Yes, to get Maia and do anything you might need to do. I was intending to pick you up again before I came home.”
“Julian, I need to go home. I need some normality for Maia’s sake.”
Her simple words gutted me more than she could ever have realised.
“So this isn’t normality?” I gestured a single hand towards the expansive space around us that made up my apartment. What I had hoped could be
our
apartment.
“Maybe one day it will be, but right now I need to be home.”
I assumed that she thought of this place as home. At least, that was the impression that I got. Was she leaving me? Was that what this was about? Surely not, she had just agreed to become my wife. I suppose I couldn’t blame her if she was running. She could only imagine what I had done last night, and my actions made me no better a man than Jay. I had harmed another human being, and she had witnessed it. Then, I had played out my vicious plot and had successfully killed him, all whilst she was just downstairs. In the same building. That was never part of my plan. She was never supposed to be there. But I saw him on top of her and I flipped, nothing could have stopped me from doing what I had set out to do all along. Not even her desperate pleas as she was dragged from the room. But, it was only just hitting me now that, as determined as I was to make sure Jay could never hurt her again, Emily had needed me. She had screamed for me, and I had not only allowed Ryan to carry her from the room, I had ordered him to. She had needed me and I had let her down for my own selfish reasons of wanting Jay to pay for what he had done to her. I hadn’t given a second thought to what Emily needed.
I was disgusting. I was no better than he was. Had Emily finally figured it out?
Emily stared out of the passenger window as I drove her home, no longer studying my every moment as she always had before. I had no idea why she did that, the way she usually watched me was...intense. Her eyes would follow whichever part of me was moving at that instant. She would study my every gear change, my every glance in the mirror, and when no part of my anatomy was occupied, she would simply stare at my hand as I grasped the steering wheel. I had always pretended not to notice, but I was struggling now to pretend that I hadn’t noticed the change in her behaviour. I wanted to say something, to ask her what I had done to upset her so much. But I didn’t. I was too afraid of the answer.
As I pulled the Audi to a stop outside Emily’s home, I glanced across to see her releasing her seatbelt. I leaned over cautiously, gauging her reaction to my movement, and offered my lips for a kiss. When she didn’t appear to respond, I pressed them gently against the soft, smooth skin of her cheek that looked unusually pale in comparison to its usual flustered state under my touch.
“Thanks,” she whispered as she turned her pale cheek away from my kiss and exited the car, without glancing back.
What had I done? Was I just being my usual prick of a self, or had it finally sank in to her what sort of a monster I really was? She hadn’t seemed too bothered this morning when she had taken control of me on my sofa. Surely her sudden coldness wasn’t simply caused by my refusal of her company at the club today. Emily was the most confusing woman I had ever met; I just couldn’t figure her out. I had explained that I didn’t want her to go home so why was she still so pissed at me. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head of her complete ignorance when I had attempted to kiss her in the car. That hurt. A lot.
“How’s she holding up?”
I span around to see Ryan strolling casually towards me as I stood on the pavement outside The Lounge. I nodded once in his direction as a kind of hello.
“She’s a bit shaken up but I’m sure she’ll be okay,” I lied. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure she’d be okay after her rejection moments ago. She had never rejected a single one of my touches or kisses before now. And her eyes had looked different somehow - no longer revealing her best hidden emotions as they always had, instead they were empty. Blank.
“The bloke from the insurance company is on his way. Shall we take a look?” Ryan eyed me speculatively.
I nodded in response, my head still heavily occupied with thoughts of Emily and what I could possibly do to fix something that I hadn’t even realised was broken.
The smell that greeted us as we pushed through the heavy door leading to the main bar area was repulsive. The odour seemed to stick in my throat, making the simple action of inhaling suddenly feel like a struggle. My mouth felt instantly dry and my throat coarse, reminding me of the scorching burn it had felt last night when the thick smoke billowed from The Attic and rushed into my lungs with every breath. At first glance, I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of damage inside the club. Sure, The Attic was no doubt completely destroyed - the staircase was almost non-existent - but the main area of the club looked pretty much okay. The walls were darkened by coverings of black residue, as were the furnishings, but there was no structural damage here. I’d guess a week or so and we could open again for business, minus The Attic. This pleased me, yet I still couldn’t force myself to smile.
Out of all of my businesses, The Lounge was one of only a few that topped my list of favourites. I loved it here. I loved the staff; I loved the atmosphere, the ambience. This was one of my favourite places to be, it had almost destroyed me to have to deliberately set it alight. But it was necessary to keep my fiancée safe. My fiancée that no longer appeared to want to know me.
“You coming for a drink?” I asked as I waved a hand to the insurance company employee as he drove away after a long and drawn out speculation of the entire property.
“It’s the middle of the day. You got something on your mind?” Ryan looked at me through familiar concerned eyes. He had nothing but concern for me, this man. He was my best friend, almost like a brother to me. Well, I suppose he literally was like my own brother as he had been dating my sister for the past year. I was sure the two of them would end up married with a brood of young Ryans running around in the future. This was possibly what had angered me so much the first night I bumped into Emily. To see her sheer beauty, the way she just seemed to captivate my full attention instantly had thrown me. And she appeared to captivate Ryan too. The way he had smiled at her so warmly when she entered his office made me sure of it. When that smile was accompanied by his little speech of how he had been waiting for her, I had felt my stomach twist. With what, I wasn’t sure. I had thought of it as anger, but, in hindsight, I suppose even then it was jealousy. I saw the way he looked at her and it had rattled me, to say the least. After all, friend or not, I wouldn’t watch any man ogling another woman when my sister was in love with him. As soon as I had left the building and pushed the mysterious woman to the far corner of my mind, I had realised I was wrong. Ryan loved Natalie, I had no doubt there. I hadn’t meant to behave like such an arsehole, but, honestly, the very effect Emily had had on me from the second our bodies touched, had more than unsettled me. I couldn’t figure it out. I had never been caught off guard by a woman before and, that night, I didn’t like it.