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We showered together this morning for the first time, and although I had my hands all over her body, moving suds all over her skin, we didn't let it go any further than heavy petting.
Apparently, she's still as wound up as I am from the teasing.
I smile down at her, turning her around and escorting her from the room. I can feel more than one pair of eyes on us as we leave the kitchen, and I have no doubt the people watching will make all sorts of assumptions, including thinking that we took things further a lot sooner than last night.
Brielle has been at the clubhouse for a month, and every night she's spent in my room. I guess it would only be natural for people to assume that a grown man and woman spending so much time together would end up having sex sooner. It's not my place to explain myself to any of them, but I get the feeling I'm going to have to do exactly that at my meeting later.
Her hands are traveling under my shirt and over my abdomen the second we step into the bedroom. I kick the door closed, hating that I have to cover her hands with mine and stop her from trying to take things further.
I lean down and press my lips to hers, smiling when she grumbles her displeasure when I pull away quickly.
"I have a meeting," I explain.
Her face falls, and although there's disappointment on her face, I sort of love that she wants to spend so much time with me that it angers her when I have to leave. I'm not exactly thrilled about how my day is going to look either.
"Okay," she whispers, but when she lifts up on the tips of her toes and presses her mouth to mine, I spend the next few minutes getting lost in her again.
I lift her, and she doesn't hesitate to wrap her legs around my waist, her hips rolling the heat of her pussy right where I need it the most in the next breath.
I swear the woman could get off just rubbing on me, and I would chase her over the edge making a mess in my jeans.
"I think I've created a monster," I whisper against her lips.
It doesn't have the effect on her I expect, and I hate the way she freezes in my hands.
"Brielle, I didn't mean anything—"
"It's fine," she says, but as the words leave her mouth, she's wiggling for me to put her down.
I let her slip from my hands when I really want to pin her to the bed and apologize until she understands that I didn't mean it the way she took it, but I know it'll take more than a few words to get the memories of the things Nathan and Xan said to her out of her mind.
"Baby," I whisper and step forward.
She doesn't back away further when I reach for her, and I take a little solace in the way she presses her palm over my heart as she looks up at me.
"Will the meeting take very long?"
"I can't answer that," I tell her, but then realize how it sounds. "I don't know what the meeting is about yet. So I really don't know. I'll get back here as soon as I can though."
She gives me a weak smile, the promise seemingly like nothing more than words to her.
I swallow down my anger because it's not her fault, and the only way I can prove to her that I keep my word is to keep showing up and being consistent. It's what it took for me to eventually trust my adoptive mother, and it definitely required more than a month for me to start letting go of all those abandonment issues.
I press one more kiss to her temple, squeezing her hand gently before leaving the room. The sound of the lock sliding into place guides me down the hallway.
I head out back. The meeting Kincaid requested is taking place at his house, and I have to question the privacy he needs.
I know what the conversation is going to be about, and it has everything to do with me avoiding him for the last several weeks since he asked me to nudge her into admitting what she knows about Nathan Adair's criminal history, but even with everything she's told me, she's still in a his words against hers situation with no proof of her crimes.
I could tell when she admitted that he made her hurt people too that he threatened her with legal consequences if she ever tried to get him into trouble even though she didn't go so far as to say that out loud.
I lift my hand to knock on the door, but Em pulls it open with a wide smile on her face before my knuckles can meet the wood.
"Good to see you, Newton," she says as she steps to the side so I can enter.
I don't know if I'm paranoid or if there's an accusation in her tone for me being scarce these days.
"I have an appointment with Kincaid."
