BELLA MARTIN 8

Bella

"Bella," Martin muttered into my ear, which he had just nibbled on, driving me insane. "Please let me take you out." I felt a buzzing feeling throughout my body. I had no idea a man's voice could be so seductive. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and remained silent. I was terrified of doing so. “I understand you would like to take it slow, and I’ve enjoyed spending time with you this month, but I really need to be alone with you, without anybody else on the schedule or down the corridor or waiting for one of us to make an appearance. I'd like to go on a real date with you." I kept my eyes closed so I could continue to live in my dreams. Just thinking about it caused visuals of his naked skin against mine to replay in my mind. I wanted it so badly, but I couldn't take the risk, not with so much at stake. I managed to gather my wits together. My legs were shaking as he nuzzled my neck. I swallowed and cleared my throat. "We're alone now," I said softly, but I wasn't sure if I succeeded. He laughed and snorted. His breath tickled the hairs on the back of my neck. "We've arrived at my office ahead of my first consultation. This isn't precisely a romantic situation. Mia is listening on the other side of that door." I opened my eyes and returned to reality. On the table, there were tongue depressors and cotton balls in jars. The roof was decorated with images of birds, butterflies, and clouds to give his patients something more to look at. Martin's fingers clutched at my thighs in my jeans as he kept pressing himself up against a wall marked with feet and inches to monitor the height of growing children. Martin's deep green eyes were seductive, but he tipped his head to my ear and muttered, "And you're going to beg off in about seven minutes anyway so you can go to work." I took a deep breath and let go of his dark silk hair, trying to slide my hands down his shoulders and resting them on his biceps. "Please accept my apologies. I told you I was difficult. You were aware of this prior to entering the room. My daughter..." He let out an unhappy sigh and let go of me. Taking a step back. "I understand. You are not required to inform me. You are a single mother. Trying to date a single mom is difficult, and I have no intention of forcing myself towards your life with her. I understand that I'm not asking you to start introducing me to her as someone you're seeing. I understand that she comes first...but I like seeing you after hours. I'm starting to feel like something you only see during work hours. As if I were your water break or something. I'm starting to feel like just another part of your job to you." My heart twisted angrily, and I pulled away. I couldn't tell him the truth, but I couldn't deny what he said, either. This was becoming too difficult. And in my pocket was a pen that not only wrote brilliantly but also recording everything Martin said to me and everything I said to him. "I like you," I said, my heart racing; I liked him far too much, far too much for this. "I like you a lot," I said, I didn't have to admit how much I liked him, but that wasn't a lie. "It's just that it has been so long since I've been in a relationship that I'm not sure I ever understood exactly how to do it right." "I do not even think I'm doing it correctly right now." None of this was a lie. Everything was true. I just did not inform him the true situation: I was frightened to be alone with him from outside his office, or the café, or a quick light meal, or a few instances here and there because...because...because... "I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do, Bella. And I can tell you're stymied by something." Yzee, I started opening my mouth to make the same excuse I'd been making. He came to a halt. "This isn't your daughter, Bella. Do you truly think I can't tell? If you really want to see me more, you could have your grandma babysit for you, just like the night we met." I'd been working the night we met. I'd been attempting to eavesdrop on his father's conversations. And instead, I'd apprehended him. If he only knew... "Just inform me if you don't want to be with me. I'm a big guy. If it's not good enough to justify it to you, if I'm not worth it, please tell me, because I'm just getting my hopes up right now. Tell me if there's no chance." "You're worth it," I said again, meeting his gaze. I begged him to believe me, despite my secrets and what I wasn't trying to tell him. It was well worth it. Every minute I spent with him was worthwhile, even though I knew I was infiltrating his life and spying on his business, even though I'd showed no evidence of anything criminal. Nonetheless, I was bound to discover the link. It had to be his father. His loved ones. I was aware of it. And I knew he was innocent, but I didn't have any proof of it. Even though I was snooping on him, lying to him, and trying to deceive him, if I could find some evidence that exonerated him, maybe this could work. I fought hard to keep my emotions under control, to keep them from rising to the surface and choking me. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, watching me think. Observing my self-doubt. Seeing me despise myself. I was apprehended. "You know you're free to tell me anything." I burst out laughing. "May I?" " I couldn't do it. He'd despise me. I couldn't stand having him despise me. "You can tell me whatever he did to you." "Whoever did this to me? " I blinked, attempting to follow his thought process. I was at a loss for words. "It was your ex. "This is Yzee's father." "Oh, he was so sweet." I couldn't stand it. I reached out and took his hand in mine. "Oh, Martin, that isn't it. I haven't been traumatized by a tragic relationship. We were dating when I became pregnant. He became terrified and fled, and I never saw him again. We were both naive kids. That's all there was to it. Perhaps I have trust issues, but who doesn't? That is not the issue. You don't have to be so sensitive around me." Perhaps if he wasn't, I wouldn't have been so conflicted about this investigative process. Maybe if he was a little more of a jackass, this would have been easier to do. Perhaps I wouldn't be so conflicted about hiding the truth to him and hurting him. He frowned down at our clasped hands, then up at me, his eyes dark and stormy. “Okay. "I'm not going to be sensitive," he said, his nostrils flared and a muscle in his jaw tensed. "I'd like to be with you. And I'd like to know that you want to be with me as well. We've been playing these games where you hold me off for a month now, and I don't think it's about your daughter anymore. I believe you're building a Emmant barrier between us because you would not want to be near each other, and you're using your child as an excuse. So it's time to stop fooling around with me." It was difficult for me to breathe. He couldn't possibly know. He couldn't do it. He decided to take my other hand as well and led me back until I was up against the wall, raising my hands in his until I was pinned against the door, extended out, my back arching. In deep desire, my body tightened. I would want him to press against me and kiss me passionately, to forget where we were, who we were, and what we had to do, and to start taking me. He didn't do it. He locked his gaze on mine. "I'd like you to meet me at my condo tonight at seven o'clock." “Tonight? " Panic erupted. "It's far too soon. "I have to find someone to keep an eye on Yzee." He yelled angrily. "Please contact your grandma. No more justifications. I know you can do it, but I'm not sure if you want to. I need to know if what we have is important to you in the same way that you are important to me." I let out a breathless gasp. I should have not liked how commanding he was. I should've been enraged that he was controlling my actions. However, I was not. It was enjoyable to me. It was very enjoyable for me. I was completely at his mercy. I was overcome with yearning. I was all his. He ran his finger around the arch of my ear, down both sides of my throat, over my collarbone, and hooked on the neckline of my stupid coffee shop button down shirt. "I'd like to wine and dine you and then put you on my couch to watch the sun set over the bay." "Your couch is very opulent. Your point of view is very fancy." Your point of view is very fancy." My entire brilliance vanished. Tactics? None. Was his couch opulent? In my mouth, my tongue felt clumsy. Likely because I was picturing myself unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, licking down his chest until I reached his fly, and then trying to take him in my hand. I had a feeling he was aware of how much I desired him. He licked his lips and looked at me, who was still cuffed to the door by my wrists. He appeared to enjoy it. I felt the same way. "I'd like for you to melt into my arms. I'd like to seduce you. I'd like to make love to you. I'd like to have your undivided attention. I'm self-centered, and I don't want to be sensitive any longer. I want you to scream." I was breathing hard for him, my back to the door. With a shiver, my eyes fluttered shut. When I opened my eyes again, his blue eyes met mine. He was completely truthful. Inside, I was in pain. "That's exactly what I'm looking for. You're sleeping in my bed. To be honest, I want more than that, but I believe you're attempting to avoid making love to me because if you do, you won't be able to hold back from me anymore, you won't be able to keep saying no to me. And you're scared." He leaned in, his lips curved into a sensual smile. "I believe you're falling for me, and if you let me make love to you again, you'll be unable to stop yourself. You're going to be lost," those lips moved to my ear. "And I want you to be lost in me, Bella," he whispered, and I vibrated with his energy. "Because I'm completely captivated by you." He then let go. He took a step back. My hands remained above my head, as if they were still held in place by his weight. I couldn't take a breath. He'd sucked up all of the oxygen in the room. He'd snatched everything. Nothing remained but him. He returned to his desk. "Bella, my seven minutes are up. You have to go to work now, and my first patient is about to arrive." The bell in his waiting room rang, and there was a faint ding. "There they are," he said casually, as if he hadn't just ripped down all my defenses and left me defenseless and pulsing for him. "So, what will it be?" Will I be able to see you tonight? ” "Could," I couldn't say it. I swallowed and cleared my throat. "Could you please give me some time to think about it?" ” He sat at his desk and smiled at me with a boring professional smile. It didn't sit well with me. It didn't sit well with me. "You have until tonight at seven o'clock," he said. "Do you care if you show up or not?" That will be my response." "What do you mean?" "Was he going to break up with me if I didn't go to his apartment? The professional smile faded as he lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "I'm in love with you, Bella. I, too, need to shield myself. I would not want to play if I'm just a game to you." I spent the entire day in the coffee shop's cellar, going over records and looking for connections. The people who made the coffee assumed I'd been hired to "do marketing," but I knew they didn't believe me. I didn't mind. I growled and yelled at anyone who came down to leave. I wasn't in a good mood when agent Del Fierro called mid-afternoon. "I don't have anything new," I tried to point out before he could even finish his sentence. "You're doing well, Agent De Guzman," he said, and when he wasn't, he called me Ms. De Guzman. "Your goal is to establish a rapport with the subject. This is a long-term project." I kept myself from yelling at him or breaking down in tears. That it was a job, and I'd approached it with open eyes. "I know what my purpose is," I almost yelled at him. "You ought to be aware that Mrs. Metzger is currently in the office of her son. This was an impromptu occurrence. Dr. Lawson's mother is the only person who can get him involved in the family business. Keep in mind that the goal is Metzger Industries. The doctor, not so much." "I know that, but..." I came to a halt. “Oh. Please excuse me, agent Del Fierro. "I have a new plan," I said, hanging up before he could ask me to explain, because I didn't have time. The matriarch. I didn't have to target Martin in order to get to the Metzgers. Mrs. Metzger, the unhappy married wife of a man who was having affairs on her back, could provide me with information.