Page 72 of It Must Be Love
"And how is it my fault that my brother refuses to help with my father's medical bills? What am I supposed to do? How was I supposed to know that Nolan asked my father to mortgage his house which was paid for, so he didn't have to take a loan out for his MBA? I went to a state school because Nolan got to live his MIT and Harvard Business School dreams. How is that my fault?"
I crossed my arms and closed my eyes, feeling everything inside me scorch like I was once again trapped in a burning car, only this time, my heart was hurting as well as my body.
Amias hauled me over the console of the Range Rover while I spluttered angrily and settled me to straddle him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as he hugged me.
"This is not comfortable." I tried to push him away, still furious with him, but he wouldn't let me go.
"I'm so sorry."
"You're just like him, you know. You ignored me and treated me so badly at work that Ethan had to run interference for me. Why did you do that? What had I ever done to you?" I was yelling again. I had no idea that I even had a dam that had suddenly burst, causing all my feelings to pour out.
"Naya, I'm so fucking sorry." He let me lean back against the steering wheel as he pushed buttons to move back his seat, so we had enough room for me to sit comfortably on top of him.
"Why did you do it?"
"Being irritated with you was a habit. A bad one. I'd been doing it for years because your open adoration made me uncomfortable."
"Why weren't you flattered instead?" I thumped him hard on his chest with a fist.
He captured my fist and brought it to his lips. He kissed my hand. The hand that had hurt him…or maybe not because he hadn't even winced while I'd used some force.
"Because Amias Westbrook would never be interested in a mousy girl whose eyes were always downcast. Because Amias Westbrook was too arrogant and self-involved to get to know the sweet girl who looked at him like he hung the moon. Because Amias Westbrook was a jackass."
He kissed my lips softly, coaxing me to open my mouth and let him in. I did, and he lingered just long enough to make me want more.
"Which Amias Westbrook am I with today?" I asked petulantly.
"The one who loves it that you got angry with me to speak your mind. The one who loves how a sleigh ride makes you so happy because it's time spent with me. The one who absolutely loves your cooking. That Yule log was something else, baby. The one who wants to make love with you."
So, that took all the air out of my temper balloon. I rested my forehead against his.
"I'm never like this. You're pushing buttons I didn't even know I had, Amias," I admitted.
"You're doing the same for me. You're evoking emotions I didn't think I was capable of feeling. You're making me want things I've never dreamed about. Can you leave the past behind and allow yourself to get to know me? Give me the pleasure of getting to know you?"
"And you really don't find my scars hideous?" How could he not?
I felt a smack on my ass, a hard one. "What was that?" I choked out.
"You call those scars anything but what they are—a testament to your strength, I will spank you. The more you do it, the harder I'll tan your ass."
I should've been scandalized. Offended. I was a grown woman. No one spanked me. Who the fuck did Amias Westbrook think he was?
"Any other reason you'd spank me?" I purred instead, because the smack on my ass had also aroused me.
He squeezed my ass. "Darling, Naya, I'll give you all the reasons you need to piss me off, so I can redden your ass so hard you won't be able to sit without thinking about me."
I squirmed on top of him.
"That excites you?" he asked, his hands now caressing my ass, my back.
"I think so."
He kissed me again, and his hands were under my sweater, cupping my breasts. I whimpered, and right then, we heard the sounds of kids.
I scrambled off of him and almost fell on the passenger side. We were in the parking lot of a farm where families were driving in and out on Christmas F’ing Day and I was making out on the front seat. I was losing my mind with this man.