Page 113 of The Billionaire's Bride

"Well, that’s an oxymoron. Alphaholes don’t get insecure… But," I hunch my shoulders, "I have to concede, you may be right, in this case. He did ask me if I was going to change my mind again."

"How dare he?" She grimaces, "I mean, it’s a valid question. But seriously, how could he question your intent?"

"Yeah," I nod, "I mean, I am here; I am not going anywhere. This is where I want to be. With him. And I told him so, and I thought he believed it, but—"

"He’s having trouble accepting it."

I nod.

"His mind gets it, but it hasn’t quite sunk in."

"Exactly."

"So, you know what you have to do, right?"

"What?"

"Come on, Ava, do I have to tell you everything?"

"Gah." I sit up in bed, clutching the sheets under my arms "Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?"

Her eyes twinkle. "If he doesn't come to you, you'll have to go to him, Ava."

40

Baron

I lower my whiskey glass, as I stare at the screen of my computer. What the hell had come over me? When she’d walked in… When I had seen her, it was like I could finally breathe. All that time away from her, I’d thought I was alive. I was so wrong. How could I be, when my heart no longer belongs to me? She’d walked into my apartment and I couldn’t believe that she was really here.

At the same time, I knew… I know it’s right. That she belongs with me. Has been mine from the moment I laid eyes on her. I’d known it, and yet, I’d walked away. I’d thought, he deserves her. After everything he’s done for me, I’d thought I owed him this much… I owed him a chance at happiness. So, I’d left… And she’d come to me.

And I’d wanted to throw her down and tear into her pussy. I’d wanted to bury myself in her tight little cunt; I’d wanted to cram myself in her arse, and fill her mouth with my cum. I’d wanted to paint every inch of her body with the evidence of my arousal, my ownership. I’d wanted to lick her up and bite down on the sensitive skin between her legs. I’d wanted to mark her creamy thighs, redden her bottom with my handprints. I’d wanted to… Fill every hole in her body and show her who she belongs to. Hell, I wanted to put my ring on her finger and mark her as mine for the world to see.

So yeah… I’d run with it. I’d asked her to marry me… Until that very moment, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted her to be mine, in every sense of the word.

Which is all good; but the distance? Putting her in another room while I stay in mine… Shit, what was I thinking?

I’d checked in on her earlier, to find that she was sleeping. She seemed to be naked. Her clothes were dumped on the chair by the desk, the soldier in me had cringed. I’d walked over and folded her clothes, then sat there next to the bed. I’d watched her sleep. Like that’s not creepy or anything. I was simply making sure that she was okay. She’d slept deeply, her cheeks pink, her lips slightly parted. Her auburn hair was in a cloud around her face. She’d looked innocent and at peace, and I’d wanted to cover her body with mine and bury myself inside of her…

That’s when I’d gotten up and left. I’d ended up in the third room, which is my temporary office. I’d gone over my investments, put in calls to Asia and the US. That’s the benefit of running a portfolio with global interests. There’s always someone, somewhere in the world who is working.

As I wrap up my last call, my phone rings again. Damian’s picture—or to be more specific, that of him and his pregnant wife Julia—shows up. I stare at it, take in their laughing faces. Will I ever have that? Do I want that? Can I have that with Ava, given everything we’ve been through?

I answer the call and Damian’s face fills the screen. "Hey, motherfucker." He smirks.

I groan, "Now I know why I stayed away from you guys for so long."

"And we’re going to make up for it with a vengeance."

"We?" I frown, "What do you—?"

Another face appears on the screen. Sinner; it’s bloody Sinner. Then Saint, and Arpad, and Weston. I grip my phone, am about to chuck it aside, when Sinner warns, "You want to hear what we have to say, asshole."

"Do I?" I growl.

"Stop being a bastard," Saint barks, "and listen to what we have to say."

"Look who’s talking." I roll my shoulders. "The biggest bastard of them all."