ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 60

CHAPTER SIXTY

GABRIELLE’S POV

I wiped my face even though the tears were already dry. “You shouldn’t look at me like that. I’m a mess.”

“You’re not,” he said quietly.

I lowered my gaze.

The exhaustion from crying made my voice small. “I didn’t think you would come home this early.”

“I told you I’d be back,” he replied as he sat beside me on the floor.

The warmth of his words hurt in a way I couldn’t explain. My throat tightened again as he took my hand and lifted it into his lap.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles lightly.

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“No.”

He exhaled. “You need to eat.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“You still need to eat.”

He stood up and offered his hand.

I sighed. “Damon, I’m tired.”

“I didn’t ask if you were tired,” he said. “I asked you to get up.”

I frowned a little, but I took his hand anyway.

He pulled me to my feet without giving me a chance to hesitate.

“You’re going to eat,” he said. “Even if it’s just a few bites.”

“I don’t want-”

“You will,” he cut in. “Argue later.”

I narrowed my eyes weakly. “You’re bossy.”

“And you’re stubborn,” he replied. “See? We’re both suffering.”

That made a small and tired breath leave my lips. It wasn’t exactly a laugh, but it was close.

When we reached the counter, he moved around me and opened the fridge.

“Sit,” he said.

I sat on the stool because I didn’t have the strength to fight him. “I’ll just have strawberries,” I said,

He didn’t argue.

He reached into the fridge, took out the bowl, and placed it in front of me. Then he grabbed a smaller plate, washed a few strawberries under the sink, and cut the stems off.

He set the plate down and dragged this chair in front of me, sitting close enough that our knees touched.

CHAPTER SIXTY

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“Eat,” he said.

I picked one up, staring at it and deciding if I wanted to eat or not. He took it gently from my hand before it reached my mouth.

“I said eat,” he repeated, lifting it to my lips himself.

I parted my lips, and he pressed the strawberry against them. I bit into it, the taste sweet and cold. His eyes stayed on me the entire time.

He picked up another one. “More.”

I chewed and swallowed, a little calmer than before. He held out the next strawberry, waiting until I leaned forward to take it.

He watched me as I ate, his eyes struggling to leave my lips.

A plan hit me just then.

I reached for the bowl, but he stopped my hand and fed me the next one himself. I bit into it slowly, letting the juice coat my lips. Then I darted my tongue out to lick it off slowly, briefly touching his fingers.

His eyes darkened.

He didn’t move his hand right away. His fingers stayed close to my mouth, and his breathing turned a little deeper than before.

“Gabrielle,” he warned.

I blinked up at him, pretending innocence. “What?”

He picked another strawberry, this time more slowly. He held it just inches from my lips.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he said quietly.

I leaned in anyway and took a slow bite, keeping my eyes on him. Before I could pull the tongue move again, his thumb wiped the juice off my lips.

I swallowed. “You’re staring again.”

“I know.”

He grabbed the bowl to set it aside, but I held his arm.

“I want more,” I said.

He nodded and dropped the bowl, gesturing at me to help myself. His eyes were cold and his movements were stiff

Maybe I took it too far.

But when my eyes fell to his pants, the visible bulge there told me otherwise.

I picked another strawberry and reached up to feed it to him. “Have some too.”

He leaned forward and bit into the strawberry without taking his eyes off me. His soft lips brushed my fingers but I couldn’t tell if it was on purpose.

When he pulled back, a bit of the juice stayed at the corner of his mouth. I reached up before he could move, wiping it with my

thumb.

He went still.

Then I brought my thumb to my mouth and tasted it.

His jaw flexed.

CHAPTER SIXTY

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I ignored it and picked another strawberry, eating half and holding the other half out for him again. He hesitated for a second, then leaned in and took it from my hand, slower this time.

A drop of juice trailed down the curve of his lower lip.

I lifted my hand again, wiping it away, and this time I let my finger slip just a little inside his mouth before pulling back.

He caught my wrist and before I could defend myself, he kissed me.

I let out a soft gasp and he swallowed it, his tongue already inside my mouth, searching for something I couldn’t tell and fighting mine for dominance.

He broke the kiss, his forehead leaning on mine. “You’re such a good kisser.”

I smiled. “I had a lot of practice.”

The warmth in his eyes suddenly disappeared. He pulled me closer until I was half sitting and half leaning on him.

“Only I get to kiss you now. Anyone else’s, dies,” he gritted, his eyes dark. “Do you understand?”

I had to be fucked up in the head to get turned on by his threats. My thighs pressed together as his hand caressed my nape.

“I understand,” I managed to whisper.

His lips claimed mine again, hungrily and roughly. He had never kissed me like this before. It was passionate, primal, and anything but soft.

My hands pulled on the collar of his shirt, trying to match his fervor but failed.

God, he tasted so good.

I moved a hand from his shirt to the bulge I’d seen earlier in his pants and he stiffened. The kiss stopped and my eyes flew open as he pulled away.

“What? Why did you stop?” I asked, my breath uneven.

He pushed me back gently and stood up. “That’s enough.”

Oh, hell no.

I got off the chair and followed him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He paused by the kitchen door and turned around, his face blank. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

“It was going fine until I touched you… there,” I responded, a frown on my face. “Why are you pulling away from me?”

His expression was cold now. “You should get some rest you had a long day.”

Then he walked out on me just like that.

My jaw dropped. Heat rushed through my chest–anger, frustration, everything I’d been holding down all day snapping at once.

I followed him up the stairs. I was done letting him switch on and off whenever he felt like it.

“Damon!” I called, refusing to let him ignoreme.

He didn’t stop and that only pissed me off more.

When we reached his room he finally stopped. “Let it go, Gabrielle.”

“No!” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of whatever this is. I’m done, Damon. So tell me why you won’t have sex with me?”

He took off his shirt, revealing faint scars on his back. The scars from before had already faded so this was definitely a recent

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one. I wanted to ask him about it but I was too mad and turned on to do so at that moment.

“I don’t want to,” he said coldly. “Isn’t that enough reason?”

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His tone made my stomach twist. A few minutes ago he told me he missed me. Now he was talking as if I were an inconvenience.

My chest tightened. “What is it? Are you sleeping with someone else? Or do you just not want me anymore? Which one is it?”

He still didn’t answer.

I stepped closer, refusing to back down. “Damon. Tell me.”

He turned around slowly, his jaw hard, and his eyes unreadable. “Yes.”

I didn’t ask what he was saying yes to. Either answer would’ve gutted me. And honestly, it explained the pity orgasms he’d been giving me.

I just stood there, staring at him–the indifferent, cold, and almost cruel man everyone warned me about.

And the worst part was realizing Emily had been right.

I was completely undesirable.

I let out a dry laugh. “Congratulations, Damon. You’ve succeeded in making me feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Goodnight.”

“Gabrielle-” he called out but I didn’t wait to hear the rest.

I ran all the way to my room and shut the door behind me.

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