Chapter 15: Tell Me Your Safe Word

Mira.

It was past 11pm but the usual eerie feeling that overcame me, fueled my body with urgency to be back home safely no later than 9pm was nowhere to be found and I hated to admit but it had to be with this man being here with me. We had transitioned from my work desk to the floor and I was wearing his suit jacket. I felt like a cocooned caterpillar. There he was, his controlled hair had given up being perfect and left him with that reckless abandon look that surfers in movies had or those sexy, really hot life guards that you'd pray to drown so they could give you a mouth to mouth. Not like I wanted that.

We had agreed on moving in, it was all part of the conduct clause, public appearance and all plus Theo and his family made quite the impression to the press so I had to look and play the part. Come tomorrow, the moving people will officially move me in. We were able to negotiate a middle ground, separate bedrooms but compulsory one bed situation three times a week, together with the whole focus contact thing. Theodore was driving me nuts with that one. Dinner together, check ins. Why should we see each other this much? I didn't see the need of having weekly check-ins where we sit face to face, eyeball to eyeball, full on innocent body contact just to talk about every other day void of any distractions. It didn't make sense, real couples don't even do this.

The marquise was beautiful and it fit perfectly, my sister's ring had been a tad too tight plus it felt heavy emotionally and physically to wear it. It wasn't mine and neither was Theo but he didn't seem to get that.

He was a husband and a good one. Out here bringing me my comfort meal and tailor made rings. The same ring I had pinned on my board.

“Is it normal that you infringed my privacy and used my P*******t board?”

He rubbed his eyes, they were heavy from the day's stress. “Your board is public, literally anyone can find it and pin it as well. Plus you weren't that hard to find.”

I shrugged. “Still, that doesn't make it right. The reception and this ring? Way too much.” I thrusted my hand out to watch the glint of the diamond. I shifted abruptly and it stunned him “Did Cass and Nato tell you?” I could see the horror on my face reflect on his.

“What? No.” His distaste at my guess was apparent. “Soleil.” He relaxed again, controlled as always. “That's the name you used for your p*******t account. And your I*******m and your art initials.” He replied.

I had already lost the argument and it didn't feel bad. This was every girl's dream, that her man accords her next level attention down to the tea and the fact that there were over a hundred Soleil he could've gone through to find mine? He was sweet, a sweet man but not mine.

My eyes latched on a section about consent and I snorted. “Wow! You? Consent? Tell me about it. You've been kissing me as you please and married me without consent.”

He was staring at me with that stupid glint in his brown eyes that made me squeal inside. As much as I wanted to, I had no right to enjoy this. Sooner or later he'll come back to his senses and my tenure as placeholder would end.

But he just wouldn't let me ignore him. I would feel better if he just ignored me or didn't even speak to me but Theodore was set on doing the direct opposite. No one could have been prepared for his next words, at least I wasn't, he knocked out air from my lungs.

He sat up from his lay back and reached for my head, his eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion but that glint. Oh my goodness. Does he look like that all the time? I couldn't dare think it was just me.

“Cherie,” he began with that deep yet velvety tone that sent shivers down my spine. He was brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I took that from you when you weren't ready to give it and I don't want to be an ass hole while we're married or ever. I regret taking what you didn't permit,” He drew closer and his eyes settled on my lips briefly. “I regret touching you, kissing you. I don't have you unless you allow me, baby.”

Damn. I swallowed. He wasn't talking about the marriage, I knew it, something told me that even though he regretted the staged marriage he and my family pulled off, if given the chance he'd do it just to be with me. I think that's insane and I think it's a daydream I don't even know should exist.

“Give me a safe word Bella?”

My eyes latched on to his lips. I swallowed again.

“I'll say it as a question and you tell me your answer in a code word. If you don't answer, I will not touch you, I will not do anything you do not consent to.”

Safe words were used in the spiciest romance movies, the ones that made you press your thighs together as I was tempted to do. The memory of watching fifty shades whilst imagining he was the Christian Grey to my Anastasia Steele with my objectified Christian laying on my bathroom counter— I know it isn't right. A jolt of pleasure lurched in my stomach.

My eyes flickered to the art just behind us. “gold.”

His eyes flickered to my lips then back to my eyes. “Ciel?”

His accent always got the better of me and it took everything in me not to say gold in response. This little interaction seemed like the beginning of many bad things.

He weaved his fingers with mine, his eyes never left mine.

My breath picked up pace and I drew my hand away and flicked hair behind my ear.

I cleared my throat, we had to leave the same space before the weight of whatever was passing between us crushed us both or I don't know, set us on fire. “Don't mean to sound shallow, but my studio rent is due, handle that as a token for this sham?” I asked even though the ring on my finger made it more than a sham. I braced myself for a pricey condition.

He laid back again, observed me for a second. “Done.”

I whipped my head towards him. “Just like that?”

He tilted his head. “That's the effect you have on me Cherie.”

I stared at him.

“Do you have more?” He asked with a pointed glance at my highlighted copy.

I snapped out of it. “Oh yes! The um…” I centered myself. “I vehemently disagree with the surveillance system and body guards. What am I? The first lady? And what I need to tell you my whereabouts, hell no!”

He shot up to his feet. “That has to stay?”

“No it doesn't, I don't see a reason why you want to watch me and don't worry I won't be throat-dip in Harper’s mouth.”

His jaw ticked. “It's not to watch you and you know better than messing around with anyone else, the deal would be completely off and I won't interfere with your rent either.”

I gasped. “Just as I thought. Either way, no surveillance or bodyguard.”

“For your safety, your workshop will have surveillance but not the house. Be naked in peace. Bodyguard only during high risk moments.”

I stopped a shy thought at being naked in his house and frowned instead. “What high risk moment? What do you run, a cartel?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Something of that sort.” That mysterious glint was back. “Agreed?”

I tugged off my apron and laid it on the table. “Susceptible to change.” I shot him a look before handing the edited papers to him with my signature on it.”

He winced as he collected, holding it up like a flimsy sheet of paper. “Pretty sure the thick blue scribbles and strikethroughs would disqualify the contract’s validity.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

With an exhale he tucked the papers into the file. “I'll have it cleaned up and we can sign at my—our home after you move in place tomorrow”

I looked around the studio to be sure everything was in place. Everything was, except the take out wraps, as if reading my thoughts, he cleared out my work space and wiped down the table. I grabbed my bag watching him clean up. A man that cleans was definitely attractive.

I waited. Normally I wouldn't have but there was this awkward intimacy we shared in my workshop that eased up my anger and didn't allow me to leave plus being alone this late scared the shit out of me. The light feeling was mostly from the fact that in a matter of months I'll be free from all of it. This was my last sacrifice for my family and I would live like the sore spot. Selena has been doing so and I saw no reason not to do the same.

He was done and was looking at me. “I'll drop you at yours.”

I wanted that so bad.

My thoughts circled around the smoothness of the word. Ciel. Why did he pick that word and not use it right now with one more warm yellow light above us and a sizzling current of attraction and that way he looks at me and me in his jacket, surrounded in his scent, something sweet and woody.

“I would love that.” And I meant it not in the way he thought.