Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(73)
Author: Beth Kery

“I think about you more than you know.”

She swallowed thickly, recalling what Davie had said earlier . . . He’s good at hiding it.

“I’m sorry that I upset you last week. I really did have an important emergency to attend to. I wasn’t trying to avoid you,” he said. “My feelings about our relationship remain the same. I wish you’d reconsider what you said the other day. I can’t stop thinking about you, Francesca,” he said, his tone at the last making her gaze leap to his.

“If . . . if we do continue in the way we were, Ian . . . would you promise to only try and control me . . . dominate me in the bedroom?” she asked breathlessly. It’d cost her more than she’d been prepared for to say that. When he didn’t immediately answer, her heart dipped in her chest. His expression was impassive, but his eyes gleamed with emotion.

“Do you mean during sex? Because I can’t guarantee that I’ll only want you that way within the confines of a bedroom. As you know from Paris, the urge could arise anywhere.”

“Oh . . . well, yes. That’s what I meant. I admit that I like it when you . . . dominate me during sex, but I don’t want my life controlled.”

“You mean like I tried to control Elizabeth’s?”

“You admitted that you trust me more than you did Elizabeth.”

She sensed him considering and felt the need to better explain herself.

“I actually want to thank you for encouraging me to gain better control of my life,” she said, not wanting him to think she was clueless as to the changes he’d already wrought in her during their relatively brief relationship. “I appreciate your doing that. But I want to be the one to be in the true driver’s seat, Ian. Outside of sex, I mean,” she added under her breath.

His mouth pressed into a hard line. “I can’t guarantee I won’t tread where you don’t want me.”

“But will you try?”

His gaze ran over her face before he glanced away and exhaled.

“Yes. I’ll try.”

Her heart bounced. She rushed him and gave him a huge hug, squeezing his waist until he grunted. He looked amused when she looked up at him a moment later. He must be noticing the rush of happiness that had gone through her at his words. I’ll try.

“I have an idea,” she said. “Let me take you for a ride on your motorcycle.”

“I can’t,” he said regretfully, stroking her cheek.

“But Jacob says I’m a really good driver—better than I am in a car.”

He smiled full out, and she blinked at the impact. “That’s not what I meant. I have to get into the office. I’m way behind with work.”

“Oh,” she said, crestfallen. She recovered quickly, though. She understood he had massive responsibilities.

“But now that you mention it, I did bring home a surprise for you from London,” he said, a grin still ghosting his typically stern mouth.

“What?”

He dropped his hands and walked around her to the closet. When he returned, he held a black motorcycle helmet in one hand, a pair of black leather gloves tucked into the opening, and a hanger with a sleek, superhip black leather jacket suspended from it.

“Oh my God, I love it,” she breathed out, immediately going for the jacket. It was hip-length, with a silver diagonal zipper and buttons. She could tell it would fit her tight. Her fingers ran over the supple leather appreciatively. “Should I try it on?” she asked Ian, brimming over with excitement.

“No protests over the gift?” he asked humorously as she rapidly removed the jacket from the hanger.

She flushed at that. “I should protest . . . it’s just . . . they both look like they were made for me,” she said, eyeing the helmet excitedly.

“That’s because they were,” he murmured. She gave him a smile over her shoulder as she hurried into the bathroom, wanting to see her reflection wearing the jacket. How did he always know the perfect gift? She wished she could do the same for him in return. She heard Ian’s phone ring in the distance as she zipped the coat and turned from side to side. It fit her perfectly—tight, sleek, and sexy.

She walked back into the bedroom suite, beaming. He sat on the couch again, talking on the phone. His eyebrows went up in subdued admiration as she modeled the jacket for him, his blue eyes running over her from head to toe.

“Let’s look into a bond issuance,” he was saying to whomever was on the other line. She walked toward Ian, feeling ridiculously happy after her conversation with him. Had she made a mistake in reneging on her dare to be finished with him?

But he’d said he’d try to not be so controlling. That’d meant a lot to her. She knew people couldn’t change their stripes overnight, and in Ian’s case, his desire to control and monitor those around him went all the way back to his childhood, when he’d been forced to look out for his mother versus the other way around.

Maybe that was what was partially behind her willingness to accept his gift. If he was going to try to bend a little, she should, too. Of course, the darling jacket and helmet were definitely easy gifts to accept, she acknowledged to herself, her hands running over the sleek lines of the jacket. Something sparked in Ian’s eyes when she caressed the leather just beneath her breasts.

Something flashed in her blood as well. She took another step toward him. He watched her fixedly, his nostrils flaring slightly. The absence from each other—her deep-down fear that she’d never touch him again—suddenly flared bright in her awareness.

“Let’s see the interest on the bonds and the filing costs, and we’ll compare that to a bank loan,” Ian said into the phone.

A strange brew of daring, gratitude, and desire stirred inside her chest. He’d given her the incalculable gift of her paintings. He’d given her back her past.

She wanted to give him something in return.

His expression flattened when she came before him and gently nudged apart his knees. His eyes widened when she knelt between them. He caught her hand when she reached for his silver belt buckle. She met his stare, imploring silently, and his grip on her slackened.

She unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants with fleet fingers.

“But the bond issuance would give us more flexibility for future acquisitions where we want to use bank loans,” Ian was saying into the phone. Her knuckles brushed across his brief-covered balls as she tried to lower the waistband of his pants. He grunted and then cleared his throat to cover it. She glanced up at him thankfully when he lifted his hips slightly, assisting her in getting his pants and briefs down to his thighs.