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I laugh gruffly when she imitates my voice, over the top, deep and growly.
I spin her into my embrace, where she belongs, where she can never stray away from for too damn long. Because it hurts, not holding this woman, this maternal beautiful sexy just-mine goddess.
“That’s not how I sound, for the record,” I tell her.
“I don’t know,” she giggles. “I think I got it pretty spot on.”
I taste her lips again, an addiction I never want to quit, and then run my mouth down to her neck, kissing, biting softly, my manhood filled with so much tension I can almost feel her soaked wet slit grasping onto it, the way she’ll shiver and pulse with our pleasure …
I listen to the way she moans now, rising carefree into the air, as though we can forget about the pain, forget about everything that doesn’t involve each other.
“Markus,” she gasps. “Not here.”
I pull myself away with an effort, my head swimming with naked vignettes of her.
“Thank God you said that,” I snarl. “It’s so easy to lose control with you.”
“What happened to your dad when your mom left?”
“Is this your idea of dirty talk?” I banter.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she says softly.
I shrug. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary. People have gone through worse. Hell, you’ve gone through worse. Mom left and then Dad left, the cliché of going out to buy cigarettes one day and then just not coming back. Except he was going out to buy orange juice, so at least the motherfucker mixed it up a bit. I heard from Johnny later that he got mixed up with some bad folks and ended up OD’ing in some crack den somewhere.”
I shrug again, as though if I do that enough I can banish all this nasty shit.
“That’s horrible,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
I make to shrug a third time, and Millie’s hands lash out, and clamp down on my shoulders, eyes dancing playfully.
“That’s horrible,” she repeats forcefully, staring at me with more meaning than a near-stranger should be able to communicate.
But that’s the thing.
Millie’s not a stranger and she never has been, never could be.
She’s my woman.
Mine.
I let out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” I agree. “It’s fucking horrible. Life can be like that sometimes. But if you’re expecting waterworks, you’re with the wrong man.”
She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly, laying her head against my chest. For half a second I’m stunned, but then my natural instinct to be close to this woman takes over.
I lift my hands and cradle her shoulders, running a hand through her hair, feeling her, treasuring her.
“Alright, alright,” I laugh after a minute or so of the most intense closeness of my life. “I’m done depressing you. Since you’re not working today, why don’t we do something? Go somewhere?”
“What did you have in mind?” she asks.
“Well, I did have an idea,” I tell her.
“Okay, Mr. Cryptic,” she says. “Care to give me any more information?”
I smirk, glad that we have this dynamic of being able to be serious one moment and playful the next. Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s that we’re silently agreeing to put aside heartache and pain and danger, and fall into the safety and security of each other.
“Nope,” I say. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Well, that’s easy,” she whispers. “I already do.”Chapter SixteenMillie“What about this?” I ask, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
Markus leans over the window, sleeves rolled up, his shirt riding up to reveal his hard muscled flesh as he secures the final fastening for the new window. We rode back into town to get his materials and then came back here to sort it before heading out …
Where?
For an early dinner date.
That’s all he’ll tell me.
“Wear something sexy,” he said as we pulled his car up outside Jackie’s place. “That shouldn’t be hard for you.”
I giggled, slapping at him playfully, trying not to let the compliment rush around my head like an intoxicant. But it’s downright impossible where he’s concerned.
Sharing our pasts has only made me feel closer to him like there are depths to him that only I’m privileged to.
He’s like Crystal Lake, frozen on the surface for most people … but plunge beneath the ice and there are deep pools of intense light and darkness, a soul just waiting to be found and cherished and loved and—
Loved? Slow down, girlfriend. You don’t want to scare him off.
I clutch onto that voice within, knowing that it’s right, that if I were to toss the L-word at him he’d run a mile … and then several hundred more.
Anyway, it’s impossible to love somebody after so short a time, right?
Right?
He turns to me, pulling me back to the present. His eyes widen, moving up and down my body with a conqueror’s roving gaze.
