Late Call (Call #1)(23)
Author: Emma Hart

I smile widely and scribble a note.

To Monique Park, from Dayton Black.

Pay Liv two hundred for international calls. I owe you—take extra from the next.

And get my cell sorted so it works. I don’t wanna be paying her crap again. Thanks xo

I hand him the message with her contact details and touch his arm. “You’re a doll, Steven. Thank you so much.”

“You’re… You’re welcome, Miss Black. Oh, Mr. Stone. Can I help you?”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I turn to Aaron. He’s amused and pissed off simultaneously. I rest my hand against his chest.

“Hey, baby. Did your call go well?”

“It did.” He wraps an arm around my back.

“How’s your dad?”

“He’s fine. Are you harassing the concierge?”

I raise my eyebrows and glance at Steven. “Of course not. He’s just sending a message for me, and he’s been so helpful. He’s a real doll.”

“I’m sure he is,” he says. “If you’ll excuse us, Steven, I believe I need to have a chat with my woman.”

With my woman?

He guides me into the penthouse elevator without a word. We make the journey in complete silence, his hand curved at my hip and his eyes forward. His body is tense, and annoyance radiates from him.

What did I do now?

The concierge—oh. I threatened to sleep with one just a few days ago. Double oh.

Aaron moves me out of the elevator and into our suite. Still keeping his silence, he pulls off his tie and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. I stand by the doors and sink my teeth into my lower lip in feigned ignorance.

After a small slice of forever, he turns. Dark blue, angry eyes hit me. “You seem to have a thing for concierges.”

“I needed to send a message to Monique.”

“And you needed the concierge for that?”

I wave my phone before throwing it on the sofa. “No international calls yet. I’m like a hermit.”

“And you needed to get the message to her right f**king now?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He flattens his hands against the door.

I tilt my head back to look at him. “Because my best friend is an idiot who thinks calling Australia from Seattle is a smart idea when her only steady income just about pays her bills.” I jab him in the chest. “My message to Monique was to pay her the cost and then some in case she calls me again and to sort out my international shit. Don’t worry. I wasn’t trying to f**k the concierge. Not that I wouldn’t, given the chance. He’s kind of—”

Aaron takes my lips with his and cuts me off. He wastes no time sweeping his tongue through my mouth, dominating the kiss and every one of my thoughts. He tugs my bottom lip between his teeth. My stomach coils, and each time I feel his teeth against my lip, the same old ache starts up. It deepens, spreading from the tip of my clit to right inside me, and I squeeze my legs together. Holy…

“The next time I see you talking to a concierge, any concierge, I’m doing that right in front of him.”

“Oh, please. You say it like it’s such a hardship. You’d love to do that in public.”

“And let every guy in the immediate area know you’re off-limits? Damn straight, baby.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He rubs my swollen lips. “You were being very unfair to him, you know.”

I straighten. “I was not!”

“You were. I watched you the whole time. You had the guy completely spellbound, Dayton. You don’t realize how incredibly beautiful you are, and you emit a raw sexuality that makes every guy you pass look at you. It’s palpable. I know exactly when you walk into a room because of it. It hits me full force. I know how far away from me you are because I feel it.”

I have a raw sexuality? This coming from the guy who makes my skin hum so badly I turn into a walking vibrator.

“Do you feel it now?”

“Feel what?”

“My ‘raw sexuality.’”

“I can’t not feel it. It calls out to me, and that’s exactly why I can’t touch you again right now. If I touch you, being mad at you and wanting you this badly will end up in you coming again. Likely on my tongue.”

He pushes away and strolls into the kitchen area. My heart is pounding in my chest as I imagine me pressed against this door and him on his knees. As I imagine my legs hooked over his shoulders and his hands cupping my ass and holding me up and his tongue gliding along my pu**y and across my clit…

I glance up and meet his eyes. “Fuck you,” I mutter, turning to the bedroom. “Fuck you one hundred times over.”

“You will. Soon enough.”

Chapter Nine

Aaron’s arms slide around me and grab the mug of coffee I just made.

“Hey! That’s mine.” I spin right into his grinning face.

“It was yours. I have to run.” He downs it. “I won’t be back all day—probably just in time to get ready for the party tonight.”

“Okay.” I tilt my head back. “What do I wear?”

A smile curves his gorgeous lips, and he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Not that it matters what you wear, but it’s formal. So something long but sexy.”

“Long but sexy?”

“Excuse me if I want everyone to know the most beautiful woman in the room belongs to me.” His smile widens as he leans in and touches his lips to mine. “Behave today. I left you my card on the nightstand. Go and buy that something long but sexy.”

“What if I have something?”

“I don’t care if you have something. I’m telling you to go and buy a dress, Dayton, so do it. I want you there tonight in something I bought you.”

I narrow my eyes. “I can buy my own dress.”

“But you’re not going to. You’re going to take my goddamn card and buy yourself something.”

“Your card?”

“Yes, my f**king card. Jesus Christ, Day. I have the company card. You have mine. I am buying you a dress, not my father. Spend whatever.”

The hardness in his eyes tells me that he isn’t budging, and I give in. Reluctantly. Because I despise things being bought for me.

“Fine. I’ll take your card and buy a dress. But I’m warning you, Aaron.” I skip from his hold and point my finger at him, walking backward to the bedroom. “I’m buying the whole shebang. Dress, shoes, purse, jewelry. All of it.”