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Late Call (Call #1) Page 53
Author: Emma Hart

I clench my hands into fists and stare him down. Trying to pretend in front of someone who sees all of you is like trying to look through a brick wall.

“Fine,” I say softly. “You wanna know?”

“Yes. I want to know everything.”

“When this whole stupid trip started, I promised myself it wouldn’t go the way of Paris. I have a job that takes over my life. God knows I don’t need anything else to do that. I was supposed to be Mia every second of the day to keep you away from Dayton.” I run my fingers through my hair. “But I forgot how very you you are. I forgot how charming and seductive and wonderful you can be, and everything I was supposed to do got pushed aside. You tore apart all my meticulously laid plans. You ripped apart the control I have over my life and threw me back to a time where being impulsive was beautiful, not reckless. And damn it all, Aaron. You made me remember how love feels – how our love felt.

“And now I’m standing here, eighteen damn days into what was supposed to be a job for me, wondering when shit got so real. I can’t look at you without wanting you. I can’t touch you without needing more and I can’t kiss you without feeling like I’m seventeen and head over heels in love again. Fuck. I want you and I don’t even want to! I didn’t even want to spend any time with you. I hoped you’d work all the time and we’d barely see each other, but that didn’t happen.”

“Until it did.”

“Until it did.” I sit on the bed and put my head between my knees, clasping my hair at the nape of my neck. “And then I realized I didn’t want that at all. I didn’t—I don’t—want to spend three days barely seeing you and I don’t want to explore all these places by myself.”

“Why?” He crouches in front of me and rests his forehead against mine as I look up.

“Because yet again you’re so far under my skin I couldn’t even burn you out, you bastard.”

He tilts my chin up and secures his lips over mine. “I’m yours. All day and every day.”

“Until you put on your suit and I’m left here again.”

“You’re always with me, Dayton. No matter where I go. Even when we left Paris, you were still with me.” His fingers curl around my neck. “But today I’m leaving the suits here. Today is for you.”

“Really?”

“Really. Didn’t you get that from the call just minutes ago?”

“No,” I mutter. “I was too busy being kind of mad at you.”

Aaron laughs quietly. “Bambi, you’re always mad at me.”

“It’s not my fault. You make me mad.” I run my thumb across his soft bottom lip. “You’re really not working all day? At all?”

“Not at all.”

I smile against his mouth. “I sound like a lovesick teenager.”

“It’s a good look. Keep it.”

I smack his chest and laugh, getting up. No, it isn’t. Feeling anything wasn’t the plan, much less letting him know of them. But it’s happened now. I broke and shit got real and it’s done.

He knows that a part of my heart is beating for him right now. I know it always has.

“What are those?” Aaron looks at my jeans in disgust.

“Uh, pants?”

He reaches across and snatches them from my hand. “Dress.”

“I was trying to.”

“Wear a dress, Dayton.”

“I much prefer you less demanding.”

“I much prefer you when your mouth is occupied by mine instead of spouting your smartass shit, but we can’t always get our way.” His amused blue eyes find me, and I click my tongue. “Put a dress on.”

I put my hands on my hips.

“What now?”

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my client, remember?”

His jaw tics and he swallows. Ha! He knows I’ve got him. I can almost see the wheels in his brain turning as he thinks what to say.

“Please.”

I stop. “Did you just say please?”

“Please wear a dress.”

My mouth stretches into a grin. “Why, Mr. Stone, are you asking me?”

“Take the request and do it before I throw you on this bed and fulfill my cock’s request.”

I grab a red dress from the closet and sigh. “Even when he asks, he still demands.”

He grabs my waist and kisses my shoulder, reaching for a polo shirt. “You make me kind of demanding.”

“I kind of like it.” I grin teasingly and clip my bra.

Aaron zips up my dress for me. “I’ll remember that the next time you moan at me.”

My smile widens until my cheeks burn, and I back into the bathroom. “Haven’t you realized? I usually moan because of your demands.”

His chuckle follows me into the room, and I grab my brush. “Keep that up, woman, and my cock’s demand will become a requirement!”

I roll my eyes as I slick powder onto my cheeks. I have no doubt that will happen. He means what he says, and his threats are always disguised promises. If he says he’ll do it, he’ll do it. Regardless of the consequences or what anyone else thinks. It’s definitely one of his best and worst qualities.

“No smartass comment?” He appears in the door.

My mascara wand hovers above my lashes as I glance his way. And at the bulge in his pants. “No. I told you before. I can be amicable.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop being mad at me?”

I zip up the bag and lay my hand on his chest. “Oh, Aaron. I can’t do them both at the same time. It’s either amicable and a little mad or mad and a little bitchy.”

He captures my mouth in a kiss and sucks lightly on my bottom lip. I feel it right down to my toes, and they curl against the tiled floor.

“You’re something else, Dayton Black.”

“I know.”

***

Via Montenapoleone, the largest street in the Rectangle of Gold, is where our car stops.

I look across the back seat at Aaron and tap my foot to an invisible beat. My eyebrow arches in question, and he smirks at me.

“We’re here.” He gets out of the car and opens my door for me. My heels click against the sidewalk as I join him on the street, and I jab at his chest.

“What is this?”

“This? It’s the Via Montenapoleone, one of four streets that make up the Rectangle of Gold, or the Quadrilatero della Moda, home to the most expensive and exclusive stores on the planet.”

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Emma Hart's Novels
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