Chapter219 – Will you come?
Her pulse stumbled. His scent wrapped around her, his body heat soaking into her skin, and suddenly it was hard to keep her focus on the soup.
This boy was too much. Too dangerous.
She turned sharply, forcing him to meet her eyes.
Atticus grinned. “Sister, why are you staring at me like that?”
Clarissa cupped his face, half scolding, half helpless. “Atticus, you’re like a damned morning glory.”
He chuckled. “You don’t seriously think I’m out chasing women, do you? Sister, how could you? I’m yours. Always yours.”
That was true enough. But Clarissa knew she wasn’t wrong to feel unsettled. Even if he didn’t chase anyone, there were plenty of women eager to chase him.
So she lowered her hand and told him about the neighbor and her daughter.
Atticus listened, his smile spreading until he burst into laughter. He kissed her temple, then bent lower, his mouth grazing her ear. “So… you’re jealous?”
His voice was a warm growl, lips tugging at her earlobe.
A jolt went straight through her, heat pooling low between her thighs. She gritted her teeth, trying to sound firm. “No… I’m not.”
“Really?” he murmured, lips brushing her skin.
Clarissa’s breath quickened. She turned her face away and coughed lightly. “Well… maybe a little.”
“You finally admitted it.” His voice was pure delight, his arms banding tighter. He nuzzled her neck, whispering against her skin, “Don’t worry. I don’t want anyone else. My cock only gets hard for you.”
The words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, leaving her breathless against the stove.
As he pressed closer, Clarissa felt the hard line of his cock against her, heat flooding her cheeks. “Atticus!”
He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up, and claimed her mouth.
Clarissa’s eyes flew open, but resistance melted fast. She sagged against his chest, the kiss stealing every ounce of breath from her body.
When he finally pulled back, she collapsed against him, panting.
Atticus caught her hand, guiding it downward. His voice was husky, his breath unsteady.
“Atti… Atticus…”
He kissed her throat, lips grazing her pale skin, his words a sultry whisper. Clarissa’s whole body flushed, her mind a blur. With the last shred of willpower she shook her head. “No. I can’t… my period isn’t over yet…”
Atticus’s lips curved in triumph, his eyes gleaming. “Then we’ll wait until you’re better, hm?”
Her thoughts scattered, her body already yielding. She nodded without realizing. “Mm… yeah…”
His grin widened. He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “Then… can I sleep with you tonight? I can’t fall asleep without you beside me.”
It hit her then—she’d been tricked.
She shoved at his chest, glaring fiercely. “Don’t even think about it!”
But Atticus only dragged her back in, bodies crushed tight together again.
“You promised.”
“You—” She barely got the word out before his mouth covered hers again. Clarissa whimpered, pushing at him, but he swept her up and pinned her against the sink.
His kiss was relentless, stealing the fight from her until her body went slack. Just when she thought she’d suffocate, he finally let her breathe.
He cupped her flushed face, voice dropping to a rough, needy murmur. “Clarissa… it’s been three days. Three nights I couldn’t sleep without you. Don’t you miss me at all?”
Panting, Clarissa met his gaze. Damn this boy—cunning and devastating, using beauty as a weapon.
Last night, without him, she’d slept like a baby—warm, comfortable, pain-free. The medicine he’d been brewing was working; even her period cramps had vanished.
Atticus gave her the most pitiful look, eyes shining. “You’re so cruel. I missed you so much…”
When that failed, he grabbed her delicate hand, rocking it gently. “Good Clarissa… I was wrong. Let me come back, please?”
He clung to her like an oversized puppy, nothing like the wolf who had just devoured her mouth.
Clarissa’s lips twitched. Angry, amused, and helpless all at once, she finally gave in. “I can’t deal with you…”
His whole face lit up. “So you agree?”
“Do I even have a choice?”
“No! And don’t you dare go back on it!” He hugged her tighter, triumphant.
Clarissa could only sigh, smiling despite herself. Now she truly understood what it meant to date a younger man—clingy, insistent, impossible to resist.
Her little wolfdog was a menace… but one that made her heart ache with sweetness.
The next second, though, a sharp smell hit them both.
“Oh no—the soup!”
Clarissa shoved him off and spun to the stove. Smoke curled up in black streaks.
She scrambled for the lid, but Atticus caught her wrist. “Don’t—too hot.”
He tugged her aside. “I’ll do it.”
With a rag, he lifted the lid. The pot was scorched, the soup a blackened ruin.
He chuckled. “Well, that’s ruined.”
Clarissa’s shoulders slumped. “My soup…”
“Then we’ll make another.” He touched her head gently. “Sit down. I’ll handle it.”
She sighed, untied her apron, and slipped out of the kitchen, leaving him to clean up.
That night, Atticus finally moved back in. The moment he stepped into her room, he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in.
Clarissa squirmed, laughing softly. “That tickles—let me go…”
“No.” His voice was rough, possessive, and the next second he threw her onto the bed.
They wrestled playfully, her laughter breaking through his growls, until his weight pressed too firmly against her and she shoved at his chest. “Stop, wait—I need to tell you something.”
Atticus lifted his head, eyes burning. “What else?”
“You’re heavy. Get off me first.”
He gave her a look, then finally pushed himself up, scooping her into his arms instead. She leaned against his chest, her voice lowering. “I might have to go on a business trip soon. Do you want to come with me?”
His expression shifted instantly. “Filming out of town?”
“Mm. Real locations, so I’ll have to be there myself. At least two weeks.” She tilted her head back to study him. “So? Will you come?”
Two weeks wasn’t long—but it wasn’t short either. Clarissa expected hesitation, but he didn’t even blink.
“Of course. I can’t go two weeks without you.”
“You…” She gave him a helpless look, then reached for the small package on the bedside table. She pressed it into his hand. “Here. For you. Do you like it?”
He tore open the wrapping, and a sleek men’s watch caught the light. Clarissa watched his unreadable expression, a pang of disappointment tightening her chest. “What? You don’t like it?”
“No,” he said quickly, sliding it onto his wrist. “It’s beautiful. Why’d you suddenly buy me a watch?”
Clarissa relaxed, smiling faintly. “Because you didn’t have one. A watch is important—an accessory every man should have.”
Her gaze lingered on his wrist, the leather strap hugging his lean arm, his hand flexing with elegant strength. His hands were beautiful—clean, slender, joints distinct, every detail like it had been sculpted. Calluses roughened his knuckles and palms from years of training, but instead of marring the beauty, they added a raw, masculine edge.
“Everything pales in comparison to you,” Clarissa murmured, almost to herself. “This is this month’s new release. Only one left. The strap is crocodile leather, the material naturally formed, rare color, limited to eight pieces. I knew the second I saw it—it was yours.”
Atticus’s lips curved, clearly pleased by her praise. He tugged her close, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and whispered, “Thank you, honey. I love it.”
Her cheeks flushed hot. “Nonsense! Don’t say things like that!”
“I’m not joking. You’re going to marry me sooner or later, aren’t you?” His arms tightened, a dark gleam in his eyes. “Clarissa, you know what I hate most? My age.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Silly boy. Age is what it is. Why hate it?”
“Because it keeps me from marrying you now.”
Her breath caught, but before she could answer, his voice dropped lower, raw and almost pained. “Without a name, without a status, I feel… insecure.”
Atticus caught her smile, frowning. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing. Just… you’re cute.” She brushed her fingers along his jaw. “We don’t need marriage. Aren’t we good like this?”
He stared at her, grip tightening, frustration and longing tangling in his expression. “You don’t get it. You’re everything to me. I can’t—” His voice broke into a harsh whisper. “Then swear. Swear that no matter what happens, you’ll never leave me.”
“Atticus?”
“Clarissa. Swear it. I want to hear it from you.”
Clarissa exhaled softly. “Fine. I swear. No matter what happens, I won’t leave you. Satisfied?”
His jaw clenched, expression still shadowed. “Even if someone you loved before shows up—you won’t?”
She stilled, then smoothed a hand over his cheek, her voice gentle. “The one I love is you. Isn’t that enough?”
He didn’t answer right away, but the tension in his arms eased, just a little. Clarissa held him tighter, wondering why this boy’s heart was always so restless.
“So, if you had to choose between me and Mom… who would you choose?”
Clarissa froze at the sudden question. Her brows knitted, but then she smiled lightly. “You and Mom are both the closest people to me. You’re equally important.”
His gaze sharpened. “If you had to choose one.”
She blinked, finally realizing something wasn’t right. “Atticus? What’s wrong with you?”
He stared at her for a long moment, fury and unease swirling in his eyes before he forced a deep breath, pressing it down. “Nothing. Just asking. It’s late—you’ve got work tomorrow. Go to bed.”
He pulled her gently to the mattress, tugged the blanket up over her, tucking her in like he was trying to shield her from the world. Clarissa rolled onto her side, studying him in the dim light.
“What’s going on? Did something happen?”
“Nothing.” He bent down and kissed her forehead, his lips soft but trembling with restraint. “Did I scare you just now? I’m sorry. I just… I need to know where I stand in your heart. You’re so good, Clarissa. So many people want you. I’m not the only one who loves you—but you’re the only one in my world.”
Her chest tightened. “Atticus…”
“I know it’s selfish. I don’t want to cage you. I told you before, even if you don’t love me, I can wait. Forever, if I have to. I’ll walk 99.9 steps and leave the last one to you. If you don’t come, I’ll turn around and come hold you instead. That’s what I used to tell myself. But lately… I can’t stop wanting more. I want everything from you. I want your whole heart. I want your eyes to look only at me, the way mine can’t stop looking at you…”
Clarissa’s eyes stung red. He rarely strung so many words together—yet every one of them pierced straight through her.