On the curb, I noticed a midnight blue car. I couldn't say what kind it was, just that it looked expensive—brand new. Of course, this was New York City, so fancy cars weren't a shock.
The man who stepped out was.
“Mr. Birch,” I said automatically, pulling up short.
Corin looked at me, his black-gloved hands gripping the edge of his door. “Miss Halloway, what are you doing here?”
I worked my jaw, trying to come up with a good answer, all while struggling to make sense of why my luck was so bad. I had no love for this man, especially after what I'd learned about how he'd treated his late wife.
Hiding my disgust would be a challenge.
“I'm here to see Abell. Is that a problem?”
His face was as flat as a frozen lake. “I'm surprised to see you seeking him out. I didn't think Abram was someone you wanted to associate with by choice.”
I stood taller, digging for the part of me that wasn't intimidated by big wigs like Corin Birch. After all, I'd faced down plenty of pinch-faced men in thousand-dollar suits while working for Halloway Inc.
Who was he to scare me? “We need to discuss a few things,” I said.
“I hope one of them is the grandchild you owe me.”
My hackles went up. On reaction, I grabbed at my belly. Corin saw this, his eyes flicking down to my hands, then to my face. Had I given myself away?
“You know,” I said slowly, “There's a chance that won't happen. What if I can't get pregnant?”
His smile was dripping with slime. “You should really read that contract better. It's not just about the wedding. The clause is quite clear, pregnant within the first year... or everything reverts back to Birch Industries.”
A clause? Of course, Corin wasn't the type to allow wiggle room. I should have known.
My nails chewed into my palms. “Why do you even want a grandchild? You have no love for your own son, how could you care about someone he helped create?”
I must have hit a sensitive spot, because I glimpsed his eyes darkening. Corin carried his own personal shadow, and it made his edges razor-like; a human sword that itched to cut me in two. “Abram is a fuckup, Miss Halloway. A fact that will always be my shame. But there's a chance his child will be nothing like him. Especially with me around to keep him in line.”
He keeps calling his own son a fuckup. That made me bristle. It was true that Abell had some bad habits, but the more time I spent with him, the more good I saw.
Unable to hold back, I spoke with a low, clipped tone. “You're wrong about him.”
He leaned away, eyebrows furrowing harshly. “Excuse me?”
“Abell isn't as bad as you think, and as his father, you shouldn't say such cruel stuff about him.”
His silence was deafening. The man studied me as if he wanted to find the easiest way to dissect my body. “Are you falling for him, Miss Halloway?”
Tripping on my own tongue, I stuttered. “That—what—no! Of course not!” The question left me floating, every possible answer scary in its own way.
Wordlessly he turned, ducking into his car. With the window down, he leaned towards me. “Tell Abell I'll come back later, once he's... done with you.” He started to roll the window up, then stopped. “Never instruct me on how to speak about my son. You don't have the right.”
I didn't have a response. I was saved from trying; he drove away from the curb, vanishing down the street.
What the hell was that about?
I was curious why Corin had been here, was it to berate Abell? Tell him he had better move forward, get me pregnant?
Recalling the slow burn in his voice when he asked if I was falling for his son, I quivered. It was a good question, but not one I wanted to answer.
Pregnant by the first year. Again, I found myself touching my stomach. The habit was becoming unconscious. I have to see Abell. Climbing the steps, I pressed the buzzer for the building.
No one answered.
Frowning, I pushed again, wondering if Abell was so asleep he couldn't hear. Dammit. Sighing impatiently, I dug for my phone, thinking of just calling him. As I turned, I caught movement to my right.
Abell was jogging down the sidewalk, red sneakers pumping as fast as his fists. In one hand, he clutched a black hoodie. His arms were exposed in a muscle-shirt, shiny from sweat so that his tattoo sleeves looked fresh and glossy.
One look at his fit body, and it was easy to forget how strange Corin Birch had been acting. But wasn't Abell freezing?
He's got too much natural heat to freeze.
After all, it was easy to remember how warm his palms had been when he'd slid them along my spine.
The guy is stupidly hot. And I was stupid for being weak to that.
“Hey,” Abell said, slowing down beside me. He leaned in, lips pressing to mine before I knew what was happening. Weren't sweaty people supposed to smell bad? Abell gave off waves of pheromones and sharp pine.
I didn't have time to snap to my senses and end the kiss; he pulled away first, grinning wide. “I guess I'll say 'hey' again,” he chuckled.
Blinking rapidly, I touched my mouth. “What was that for?” Fuck fuck, slow down you crazy heart!
“It wasn't for anything.” He hooked his hoodie over his shoulder. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
Pure joy radiated inside of me. “Really?”
“Sure. Who wouldn't want to kiss their beautiful fiance?”
I swallowed once, then I swallowed again.
Turning towards his apartment, Abell pointed with his chin. “Were you standing out here waiting for me?”
“Ah, yeah.” Now you look desperate. Good job. Poking my toe into the sidewalk, I smiled. “I wanted to... talk.” I'd wanted to talk, but now, gawking over his perfect specimen of a body, I had other ideas.
Perception burned in his frosty eyes. “Your poker face isn't as good as you think it is.”
Adrenaline spiked through me. “What?”
Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me against his hip, guiding me up the steps. “Get inside. Now.” In a flash we were in the building, his apartment door rising up. He ripped it open, nudging me through.
The wood slammed behind us.
Dazed, I turned towards him. “Abell—”
He advanced on me, gripping my cheeks in his hands. His face was inches from mine, his smirk ravenous. “You come here, to my home, the place where we first fucked, and you think I don't know what you're looking for?” His breath scorched my ear, teeth brushing the tender skin. “You came back for more of my cock, didn't you?”
My tongue was sluggish, speaking was a struggle. What do I say? Abell had changed our dynamic. After he'd proven he had the guts to fuck me in my wedding dress, in public no less, I knew he had no limits.
I'd always been so tough and high strung. But with him, my body—my mind—wanted to collapse into a black hole. I wanted to give in, let him flood my cells with pleasure until I was blind and deaf to the world.
His hand grabbed my ass through my jeans, squeezing. “Answer me. Did you come here for more of my delicious cock?” Thrusting, he ground his steel-hard erection against me.
My pussy clenched in a helpless response. “No—I mean, not at first.”
It was too hard to look at him. I tried to face away, but he cupped my jaw, forcing me back. “Then why come all the way here?” he asked.
My palm brushed my stomach. “To talk about... what we did.”
His nostrils flared, eyes shining. “We can talk, and we can fuck. Best of both worlds.”
“Wait, we can't!” I lifted my hands; he grabbed my wrists, kissing the sensitive skin on the inner part.
“I want to do it again.” Nuzzling my cheek, he reached down, popping my coat open. “Cumming inside of you was addictive. I need more of that, I want to feel you writhing around, itching for that piece of me.”