Chapter Nine

Blaze

"Trouble is brewing," Alaric says, popping his head into my office.

I glance up from my computer, eyeing him over top. The last thing I need today is more fucking trouble. After spending the last two days with Georgia, leaving the bed to come to work this morning was not appealing. But we're closing the office for the holidays at the end of the day.

It's been a madhouse all goddamn day. I got into the office this morning to a flurry of news about the party. My girl is smart as hell. Fashionable Santa was the talk of the town. My face was splashed all over the fucking place. Georgia's too. The phones have been ringing off the hook.

Someone broke into one of our warehouses overnight. They made out with over two-hundred thousand dollars' worth of merchandise that was meant to be shipped to our retail partners, so I've had that to deal with too. My patience is wearing mighty damn thin.

"Georgia's on her way up and she's pissed," he says. For once, my younger brother doesn't look perpetually amused. There's a grim edge to his tone that reflects in his dark eyes. "You're a dick, just in case you didn't already know."

"What the fuck did I do?"

Before he can say anything else, Georgia appears in the doorway behind him, bristling like an angry kitten. She looks beautiful with her hair pulled back from her face, wearing my t-shirt tied up around her waist and a pair of jeans. Her face is free of makeup, her cheeks flushed.

My dick thickens, stiffening in my pants at the sight of her. I've been all over her since the party, and I'm still not satisfied. I want her incessantly. We fucked all over the house yesterday. My favorite was in front of the fireplace with nothing but the tree lights illuminating my princess.

Alaric steps to the side, allowing her to sweep into my office.

"You fired me without even telling me?" she growls, her gray eyes flashing fire at me.

Fuck.

Alaric backs out of the office, pulling my door closed behind him. But not before glaring at me like he's completely on her side in this. He probably is, the bastard.

"I didn't fire you, little one," I murmur, my voice soft.

"You cancelled my next shoot, Blaze!" she says. "And you told the design team that I'm not going to be modeling the rest of the line."

"Come here," I say, holding out a hand to her.

"I'm fine where I am," she retorts.

I narrow my eyes on her. "Don't piss me off, Georgia."

"You already pissed me off!" she cries. "You fired me, and you didn't even have the decency to tell me about it." Her bottom lip quivers, misery sweeping through her expression.

I stare in horror as tears fill her eyes. No. Fuck no. I made her cry.

"Little one," I breathe, striding across the office toward her, my heart in my throat. Pissed off Georgia, I can handle. She makes my fucking dick hard when she's giving me hell. But this? This is intolerable.

"I thought I mattered to you, Blaze." She backs away from me, her quivering bottom lip breaking my fucking heart. The doubt in her eyes annihilates it. She doubts how I feel about her? Unacceptable.

"Stop running from me," I growl when she takes another step away.

"No. I don't want you to touch me."

The rest of my patience vanishes in a haze of red. Before she can even think about moving again, I'm on top of her, dragging her into my arms. She tries to fight, but I don't give her a chance. I pick her infuriating little ass up and march across the room with her to the sofa on the far side.

"Dammit, Blaze," she growls, trying to kick me. "Let me go."

"What's my name, Georgia?"

"Blaze."

I growl, dropping her on the sofa. Before she has a chance to pop back up, I'm on top of her, wrapping around her like a blanket. "Settle down before I spank your little ass, baby girl," I growl in her ear. "I don't give a fuck if you're mad at me or not, you call me daddy."

"Fine," she says, her scathing tone aimed like daggers at my heart. "I think you're a jerk, daddy."

I let that ride since I deserve it.

"You're the center of my fucking world, little girl," I say, flipping her onto her back. I follow her down, locking my hands on either side of her head to hold my weight off her. "I'd rip my own goddamn heart out if you asked it of me, Georgia. Don't ever doubt that. Ever."

She sniffs, scowling at me.

"Keep it up and I'll be fucking the attitude out of you here and now," I warn her, the only one she's going to get. "I didn't fire you."

"Yes, you did. You cancelled the shoot."

"Have you seen the photos from the first two, Georgia?" I growl. "Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you look? How many men are going to see you splashed across billboards and want to fuck you?" Holy fire rages through me at the thought. "No one touches what's mine, little one. I will raze this fucking city to the ground before I let that happen."

"Blaze."

"Every time I think about someone seeing those photos, I lose my goddamn mind," I growl. "You don't know what men think the way I do, what they see when they look at you. I know. I think the same filthy thoughts, want the same filthy things. I don't just love you. I'm obsessed with you in every way it's possible to be obsessed. You consume me. Every minute of the day."

"You think it's not the same for me?" she cries, flinging her arms out. She smacks me in the chest in the process. "All I think about is you! But I would never try to tell you that you can't do your job just because it makes me crazy jealous when women flirt with you, which they do all the freaking time. This is my job, Blaze. My reputation as a professional." Tears well in her eyes again. "It's not okay that you just decided this without consulting me."

"You're not doing it, little one."

"Fine, then I'll model lingerie for someone else," she snaps.

Nope. Hell no.

I crash my mouth down on hers, kissing her hard. She resists for a split second before crying out and kissing me back with just as much force, as if she's trying to fuse us into one being. Goddamn, how does she make me crazy and make my dick hard at the same time?

I don't fucking know, but she does it.

We're a blur of hands as we strip. The buttons on my shirt get torn off in our haste. So do her panties. She's soaked when I touch her slit, her cream dripping onto my fingers. I growl a curse, yanking her legs up around my hips.

"Daddy!" she shouts, back bowing off the sofa when I thrust into her.

"That's right. Daddy," I mutter, attacking her chest with my mouth. "I'm daddy to you, baby girl. Not Blaze. Daddy." I fuck her hard, pounding into her until she's screaming it at the top of her lungs and clawing down my back.

She comes in a rush, ripping my own orgasm from me. I roar her name, writhing in bliss. In agony. In regret. She's right, goddammit. About all of it. I'm being an irrational asshole. But when it comes to her, I'm not rational.

"You still mad at me?"

"Yes. You hurt my feelings."

My heart threatens to rip itself out of my body. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

"I'm sorry, baby girl." I press my forehead to hers, press my lips to hers. "I'm an asshole, I know I am. But the thought of anyone seeing you like I do…it fucking kills me to think about some other asshole fantasizing the same shit I do."

"It doesn't matter what they think," she says. "You're my daddy, Blaze. You're the man I love. I would never do anything to jeopardize that. But this is my career. You can't just sweep in and decide what I can and can't do in my professional life. That's not fair to me."

"You're right," I sigh, rolling us to the side. My dick slips out of her and we both groan in regret. Losing her heat is cruel and unusual punishment. "But I didn't fire you. I intended to ask you about modeling the new spring line instead."

"Really?"

"Summer, fall, and winter too." I brush loose tendrils of hair away from her face. "I want you to be the face of this company. You belong in front of the camera, little one. You're a knockout. I wouldn't ever dream of taking that away from you, but I'm a jealous, possessive bastard too. You're too fucking beautiful in our lingerie."

"I posed for you," she admits. "That's what I was thinking about during the shoot. You. I wanted to drive you crazy, Blaze. Not anyone else."

"It worked. I've been staring at the photos for a fucking week now."

"Compromise?" she asks, tipping her head back to meet my gaze. "Let me finish this job, and then I'll be the face of your company. I won't even complain if you have someone else model the lingerie. But please don't take this from me. It'll break my heart."

"Little one," I groan.

"Please, daddy?" she whispers. "Please?"

I know I'm done for as soon as she says it. I can't deny her. I won't deny her. If this is important to her, then I'll swallow my own tongue before I say no again. Breaking her heart isn't an option. She was meant for joy.

"And when they ask why you don't model our lingerie after this?" I ask, slipping my hand between her legs to cup her center. "What do you say then, little one?"

"That my daddy is the only one who gets to see my panties," she moans, not missing a beat.

"That's right. He's the only one who touches them or gets them wet," I murmur, playing with her, unable to stop myself. By the time I'm done, she's a limp mess on the couch.

"Marry me," I whisper as she cuddles in my arms.

"Is that a question?" she asks.

"No," I say, flipping her onto her back so I can see her face. "It's not a question. It's a plea. Marry me. Let me spend the rest of my life taking care of you. I'll probably fuck up. I'll be a jealous asshole. You'll never get any rest because I'll be in you every goddamn minute of the day. I'll monopolize your time and drive you crazy. But I'll worship you every day. I'll love you with everything I am until God takes me from this world."

"Blaze," she whispers, tears welling in her eyes.

"Say yes, little one."

"Yes," she sobs, bobbing her head. "Yes, I'll marry you."