Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

I hold the passenger side door of my car open for Bentley. “I thought you wanted me to drive?” she asks.

“I love you, Bentley, but you’re not driving my car. Get in,” I tell her, nodding my head in the direction of the open door.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Perfectly capable.”

She looks at me, inspecting my face. I can already feel that the swelling on my lips has gone down, significantly. They don’t even swell that much, just enough to be noticeable.

Fucking Alistair and Xavier… I can’t believe they sent Bentley bananas. The assholes. Then again, if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d more than likely do the same thing to them. My allergy is nowhere near as bad as how Bentley perceived it. Yes, my lips swell a little, and sometimes I’ll get hives all over me, but my throat doesn’t close up. I’m not at risk of anaphylaxis.

Driving out of the garage, I point the car in the direction of my apartment. I have no intention of going to see a doctor. I do, however, have every intention of going home and fucking my girlfriend into a coma. I figure if she’s out cold, she can’t quit the firm. I won’t have to worry about her taking Xavier up on that offer he threw out to go work at Christianson Corp. Which, don’t get me wrong, if you’re going to be an in-house attorney for the private sector, Xavier’s family business would be the place to do that. I’m not just being selfish in wanting Bentley to stay on at the firm. A huge part of my reason for wanting her to stay is for her own career development. I know I can teach her things others can’t.

I’m not being farcical. I’m just being a realist.

There is a reason I’ve managed to get to where I am in my career. Why I’ve made such a name for myself in this city. Fuck, in this country . I have clients fly in from all over the world to work with me. Though, I admit, the other part of me that wants her to stay—yeah, that’s all completely fucking selfish. I’ve become accustomed to our lunch meetings, to the daily dessert that she offers me.

“Hold up… You said you were going to the doctor. Why are we pulling into your apartment building?” Bentley asks.

“I’d be pulling into our apartment building if you agreed to move in with me,” I tell her.

“Funny. Don’t change the subject. Why are we here?” she questions in a more don’t fuck with me tone.

“We’re here because I’m going to take you upstairs and fuck your brains out.” I look over at her and shut off the ignition.

“No, you need a doctor,” she argues. Ignoring her protests, I climb out of the car, walk around to the passenger side door, and open it for her. “I’m serious, Nathan,” she says, refusing to step out.

“So am I. You can either get out and walk, or I’ll carry you up there. I really don’t care which. Either way, we are going upstairs, and I am going to have my filthy way with that body of yours,” I tell her. Then, leaning in, I whisper in her ear, “I’m going to make you come so fucking hard, baby girl.”

Bentley unclips her seat belt and jumps out of the car quicker than I’ve ever seen her exit it before. “If you die on me, I’m going to bury you in a banana field,” she says under her breath.

“I’ll be dead. I don’t think I’ll care where you bury me.” I laugh.

“Fine. If you die on me, I’ll visit that banana field… with my next boyfriend.” She smirks.

That has me seeing fucking red. “If any other man thinks he can touch you, I’ll fucking haunt them into an insane asylum.”

“Great, because it seems the mentally unstable are just my type.” She laughs, entering the elevator when the doors open.

“Your comedic ability really makes me question why you chose to practice law when you clearly have a knack for stand-up,” I deadpan.

“I’d become too famous as a comedian, and I don’t want the fame. I just want to live a quiet life, settle down. Find a nice guy to marry, possibly have kids, maybe not. Buy a big house in the suburbs.”

“The suburbs?” I screw up my face. I have no intention of ever moving out of the city. Why the fuck anyone wants to live in the goddamn suburbs is beyond me.

“Yep. I want a big house, a yard, and neighbours who don’t share an adjoining wall.” She shrugs. She’s really put a lot of thought into her future.

“You’ve already found the nice guy you’re going to marry. I’ll see what I can do about a big house for you,” I tell her. I have no idea how, but surely there has to be something like that in the city. That has to be a thing, right?

“I didn’t tell you that to get you to deliver my future. I’m just saying that sometimes money and fame aren’t for everyone.”

“Says the girl who grew up richer than Richie Rich,” I say, trying to hold back my eye roll.

“Until I didn’t,” she counters.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, because I probably shouldn’t have reminded her of everything she’s been through. Everything that happened to her family. Everything she’s lost.

“It’s not your fault. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I know. But I am. And I am going to make sure I win that claim against Kemp.”

“ We are going to win that claim against Kemp.”

“We?”

“Did I forget to tell you?” She lifts a brow at me in question.

“Tell me what?”

“I’m staying. I’ve decided leaving isn’t the best option for my career.”

I blink at her. Yes, she bloody forgot to tell me . What the hell? How long has she been making me suffer with the thought of not having her with me all day at work anymore?

“When did you decide this?” I ask.

“This morning,” she says. “Is it… Are you okay with me staying? I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

“Are you insane? A third of this firm is going to be half yours one day, Bentley. It would be stupid for you to work anywhere else.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“When we get married, what’s mine is yours and all that.”

“I’m not taking your money, Nathan. I don’t want it. When we get married, I expect Alistair to write up the best damn prenup there is. You and your partners should protect yourselves; you’ve worked far too hard to build up that firm.” She smiles. “Besides, I plan on becoming partner the old-fashioned way. By working my way up. Proving to everyone how good I am at my job.”

The doors open into the foyer of my apartment. I reach over and throw her over my shoulder.

“What the hell?” she screams, slapping at my back.

“I figured this was the fastest way,” I tell her before tossing her on the bed. “Strip. I want you naked in less than a minute.” Loosening the tie from my neck, I pull it over my head. Then I slide my arms out of my jacket and drape it over the chair in the corner of the room. I make quick work of unfastening the buttons on my shirt, removing my cufflinks and throwing my shirt on the floor. “You have thirty seconds,” I tell Bentley, who hasn’t moved from her spot on the bed.

She climbs off the edge of the mattress, reaching behind her back and unzipping her dress. I step out of my shoes before bending over and removing my socks. Bentley is standing before me in a matching red lace panties and bra set. She has black thigh-high stockings and a pair of black pumps on.

“Leave the shoes… and the stockings,” I tell her. Undoing the button on my slacks, I pull down the fly. I remove my pants and briefs in one go, freeing my cock, which is now standing at full attention. I wrap a hand around the base, tugging up and down slowly as Bentley peels off her bra. She then turns around, bends at the waist, and slides her panties over her legs. “Stop,” I tell her when she goes to stand. “Hold on to your ankles.”

She looks back at me in question but follows the instruction, wrapping her small palms around her ankles. I approach her, my hand gliding down the length of her back. She’s a fucking sight like this. Her bare pussy on full display for me, her legs covered in black stockings, and red lace bunched around her five-inch pumps.

“Do you have any idea how fucking good you look right now?” I ask while circling her. I want to capture this view, engrain it in my memory, with as many angles as possible.

“No,” she says.

“You’ll have to take my word for it then, baby girl. Fuck, I’m going to be jerking off to this image for the rest of my life."

She lifts her head to look at me. “We have sex at least twice a day. Why on earth would you need to jerk off?” she asks.

“Because my cock goes hard every time I fucking get a glimpse of you, Miss Johnson.”