Page 49 of Fighting for Foster


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"Come up with me." He speaks through gritted teeth, showing his frustration with me. I don't care. He's inconsequential to me now.

"Is this your place?" I repeat my question.

"Come up with me." He repeats his non-answer.

"I don't see the point."

He exaggerates his groan, climbs out of the passenger seat, and slams the door. Good. I'm disappointed he gave up but relieved this horrid evening is over.

I switch into reverse and look over my shoulder to back up.

My door swings open and I slam on the brakes.

"Hey!"

He reaches over me and unbuckles my seat belt. I catch a whiff of his hair and skin. God, he smells clean like soap and sweet like fine wine.

I have no choice when he tugs on my arm but to pull my legs out from under the steering wheel and place them on the ground. It's awkward and my skirt flies open. He's not deterred. He scoops one arm under my knee and another behind my back. He grunts and tries to lift me out of my seat but I wiggle and make myself as heavy as possible. "No."

He doubles down and fixes his grip deeper around both legs and my back and hoists me out of my car.

I don't bother to sayput me downbecause I know he won't. All I can do is growl to show my frustration. We clunk along until he walks into the elevator and my head falls back as he leans down to press the button.

"The thirty-fifth floor?" I ask him.

He looks down at me and smiles, pleased with himself for forcing me to do something I don't want to do. God, he's infuriating. His rock-hard body is strong enough to haul me around and hold me effortlessly for a long time. My butt is rubbing against his trousers and my side is plastered to his chest. He jostles me up higher so our faces are closer togetherand it forces air from my lungs that comes out in a clumsy grunt.

He grins and a smile escapes my lips, but I squash it down. I hate him!

Down a long hallway, he sets me on my feet in front of door 3503. He pushes in a key card and the lock beeps open.

With a stern frown on his lips, he signals for me to go inside first. The grin from the elevator is gone and his face is pinched tight.

It's a fabulous apartment. Angled windows made of large black rectangles frame a million-dollar view of the skyline over the Hudson. My gaze lands on a vibrant emerald-green velvet couch placed strategically to encourage gazing out the windows.

A deep shag contemporary rug with emerald and chartreuse swirls invites me to come run my toes over it. Small chartreuse accent pillows sit in the corners of the couch. An oversized leather recliner and a leather couch focused around a flat-screen TV occupy the entire living area.

His hand on my back guides me over to the emerald sectional and I don't fight him because I really want to feel the fabric. Oh, it's tufted and luxurious.

"You didn't decorate this place. Did you?"

He glances around and shrugs like it's nothing special. "No."

He plops down next to me and props his elbow up on the back of the couch. "Are you going to marry him?" His brow furrows like he's been waiting to ask me that question for the entire evening.

"Foster…"

"Tell me. Are you really going to marry Renzo?" He stares into my eyes like everything depends on my answer when it truly doesn't.

"I don't see why I have to tell you either way."

"Are you going to marry him?" His voice drops to a growl. He's not screaming, but his hands shake like he would freak out if I give him the wrong answer.

"I don't have any choice."

His thick dark eyebrows curl up. "You have no choice?"

"My father wants it. Some kind of business deal."

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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