And I did something about it.
Something I would do all over again, even though it earned me seven years in hell.
I wasn’t the only man at the company who was blindsided and I’ve been in contact with my former colleagues. We have a plan to build a bigger operation—a more honorable one—this time around. It might take years to see that vision through and I know it’s goddamn selfish asking Ophelia to leave her ivory tower for me, to be patient for a man with a prison record and a mouth like a sailor, but I can’t imagine walking away and living the rest of my life without her.
I’m supposed to be in Michigan by next week to convene with my former colleagues. We have meetings lined up and rental spaces to tour, but I’m not budging until I figure this thing out with the girl on the other side of the glass.
Drawn to her like a sailor toward a siren, my feet climb the st
eps without permission and I watch her little butt twitch around inside a tiny pair of red spandex shorts as she scrubs the marble. My dick fills with hot pressure, stretching the fly of my jeans. My hurried breath fogs up the glass and she turns, popping out her earbud and staring at me with wide eyes. “Open the door, little girl,” I say.
A few seconds tick by and she shakes her head.
I raise an eyebrow. “No?”
“It’s a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“I know why you want to come in here.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
She tugs down the hem of her crop top, but it flies back up. “To do bad things to me.”
“Ah, no, princess. I want to do good things to you. Really good things.” With her shifting around on her bare feet, I can see I’m getting nowhere, so I take the dark chocolate candy bars out of my back pocket and press them against the glass. “Let me in and I promise we’ll just talk.”
Oh, she wants that chocolate. Badly. She’s licking her lips looking at it and I vow to have that pretty mouth wrapped around my cock someday real soon. This one would take me deep enough to choke out of pure pride and I’d really love to test that theory about now, but she’s wary of me and I do not like that. I want to be her safety zone. The person she can let down her guard around because she knows I’ll slaughter any trouble that comes her way.
“You can break down this door in one kick, anyway, can’t you?” Ophelia says, more to herself than me. “If I open the door, I’m avoiding having to explain a broken door to my father and I get dark chocolate, so it’s really no choice at all…”
Finally, she turns two locks and opens the door.
I step inside and damn near strain a muscle stopping myself from grabbing her. “What are you doing cleaning the goddamn floor?”
She gives a jerky shrug. “I like cleaning the floor.”
“Try again.”
A gust of a sigh leaves her. “Your mother’s nap ran a little long today and she didn’t get around to finishing up. If the floor is dirty, my father docks her pay, so…”
Fuck, I’m in love with her. She’s never getting rid of me now. “You’re a secret sweetheart, aren’t you, Ophelia?”
Her nose wrinkles. “No.”
“Yes, you are. You thought I’d buy it earlier when you stomped into the kitchen and demanded my mother draw you a bath. But I’d say you’re more likely to do that for her.”
She sniffs and removes her AirPods. “Can I have my chocolate?”
“Nuts or no nuts?”
“No nuts. The presence of nuts means less chocolate.”
My lips jump. “Now I know.”
I kick the front door closed behind me and hold up the candy bar, forcing her to come take it from me. When she reaches for it, I hold it just out of her reach. I use my teeth to open the package and break off a chocolate square, rubbing it against her lips. “Open up for me.”
Her little nipples turn to points under her shirt and I exult in the fact that she can’t hide her attraction. She parts her lips and I slide the chocolate onto her tongue, growling as she chews. “Thank you,” she whispers. “It’s the good stuff.”
“Only the best,” I murmur, breaking her off another piece. Goddamn, I would kiss her mouth until those lips were sore if I hadn’t promised we’d talk. And truthfully, I want to talk to Ophelia. I want to know everything about her. How she thinks, what scares her, what she wants out of life. Most importantly, I want to know why she’s pushing me away when I can damn well feel the gravity between us and know it’s something real. After pocketing the chocolate, I cradle the side of her face in my hand. “Why were you at my mother’s house the other day? The truth, princess.”
“She forgot her heart medication,” she grumbles.
My pulse pounds harder. “Ophelia?”
“What?”
“You’re mine.”
“I can’t be yours, Ezra.”
“Too fucking late.”
Just like the first time we met, I see excitement dance in her eyes and I know there’s so much inside of her. So many hidden truths and quirks. She’s a little Pandora’s box and I’m going to pry her open and let everything out if it kills me. Hell, it’s killing me to stand still and let her study me when I want my hands all over her body, but I like that she seems to be growing less nervous the longer I refrain from mauling her.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asks, turning on her bare heel and sauntering in the direction of the kitchen. I follow in her wake, watching her butt twitch in those little red bun huggers and observe her chug from a bottle of water in the fridge.
When she’s done, she nods at the fridge with a questioningly look and I shake my head. “Nothing for me, thanks,” I say, leaning forward across the granite island. “So, tell me, Ophelia—”
“Uh uh. You already grilled me. It’s my turn.” She leans back against the fridge and seems to brace herself. “Why were you in prison?”
“Arson,” I say without hesitation. “Is that better or worse than you were thinking?”
A beat passes. “I don’t know. Did anyone die?”
“No.”
Her shoulders relax. “Will you tell me what happened?”
I nod, suddenly on shaky ground. I’ve told no one about the incident in a damn long while. Seven long years. And I’ve never given a fuck about anyone’s opinion about what I did until now. “Long story short, I worked for a car parts manufacturer. We exported those parts internationally.” Anger rises up inside me like dough in the oven. “Found out the scumbag owner was shipping women, too. Sending them off to be sold and—” I stop with a ground out curse. “He made me a part of something without my knowledge. Something sick. My temper didn’t stop to ask questions, princess. I set fire to the whole goddamn facility. After hours, so no one got hurt. It was the fastest way to put him out of business. He was arrested and charged. The two dozen women being held were freed. But apparently calling the authorities would have been a better move for me. Law enforcement tends to frown on a fifty-thousand-square-foot-structure fire.”
Ophelia is quiet a moment. “You saved those women.”
“Not enough of them.”
She pushes off the fridge and starts to come toward me. “Do you still feel guilty?”
I grunt out a yes.
“I’m sorry. It’s not fair.” Having reached me, she slides a cautious hand up my chest. “It’s not right for an honorable man to be labeled dishonorable.”
It feels so good to have her hand on me, my eyes close on their own. “Right now, I’m only concerned what you think.”
Her tone is pure innocence when she confesses in a whisper, “I think I’d have burned that motherfucker down, too.”
In the wake of my shock, my dick gets good and hard. This girl. She’s a firecracker. I want to lay her down and revel in her. Stoke that fire. Watch it burn. “My turn for a question,” I rasp. “Keep your hands on me while I ask it.”
She adds her second hand and her palms stroke up and over my pecs in tandem. She’s killing me and has no clue. “What do you want to know?”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were? When we met.” Ophelia visibly clams up. Her hands drop away from my chest and I have to wrap an arm around the small of her back to keep her close. “Princess.”
“God. You’re supposed to start with softball questions. Favorite band, favorite food…”
“I raw dogged you on my mother’s couch before I knew your name, little girl. We’ve been playing hardball since the start.”
Her mouth falls open. “Raw dogged? What is that?”
“I took you without a rubber.”
“Oh my God.” Face turning pink, she stares off into space. “Am I pregnant?”
“Lord, I hope so.”
She stares up at me dumbfounded. “I’m supposed to go to Princeton in the fall.”
It’s a slug to the gut. New Jersey is a long way from Michigan, where I’m headed soon. ?
?That’s a dream of yours, I suppose?”
Ophelia is quiet so long, I’m not sure she’s going to answer me. “No, not at all,” she finally whispers. “I didn’t even get in on my own merit. I never do anything on my own. I’m just an overindulged brat. Why didn’t you realize that right away and leave me alone?”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “First of all, I’ve got no plans to leave you alone, so get used to it. Second, there aren’t many overindulged brats who do their housekeeper’s chores and drive to Queens to pick up medicine.”
She scoffs. “Those are only little things.”
“No, princess. They’re not. They tell me exactly who you are.” I pluck her up by the waist and settle her on the kitchen island. “Did you really think if you pretended to be a snotty rich girl earlier that I’d turn tail and drop you like a bad habit?”
“Yes.” Her eyes are troubled. “That’s exactly what you should do.”
“Why?”
She presses her lips together and doesn’t answer.
“You want to go to Princeton, we’ll make it work. I’ll make any situation work as long as you’re mine.” I run my hands up her thighs, teasing the hem of her shorts with my thumbs. “I’m not a man without a plan. If you just put your trust in me, I’ll give you everything in time.”
“I can’t,” she whispers.
Something occurs to me and it’s such a jarring possibility, my blood rolls into a quick boil. “Is there another man?” If I hadn’t been paying extremely close attention, I might have missed the spark of panic in her eyes. But I don’t miss it. And the already boiling temperature of my blood turns to an inferno. “Who the fuck is he?”
“No.” She shakes her head rapidly. “There’s no one. I swear.”
“Ophelia,” I grit out, feeling like my chest is caving in. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not!” she cries. “There’s no one that has ever made me feel like you. No one ever could. I scrubbed the floor way longer than necessary because I was trying to exhaust myself.” Tears spring to her eyes. “I was scared I’d never see you again. And scared I would. I don’t know how to feel about anything, but I…” She swipes at her damp eyes and my possessiveness wars with denial. She should never cry. “I know I need you to touch me so bad it hurts.”