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CHAPTER TWENTY
While sitting on the chair, Lucius keeps watch nearby. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. We arrived back at Club X two hours ago. I was led straight down to the underground tunnels of the mansion and into Milton’s quarters, where I’ve been sitting, waiting, for him to show. Two-fucking-hours, and there’s still no sign of him.
I’m not just cold inside. I’m a block of ice. An unbearable ache in my chest makes me want to claw out my heart and throw it at the wall. I want to scream at someone, anyone.
After sitting in the same, tense position for so long, I start pacing. Lucius glances at me briefly before turning back to stare at the ground, making me want to scream at him. What would there be to shout about? Even my own screams would be confusing to my ears. Because deep down, I just want Milton here. I’m desperatefor him to explain how he can be alive when I was sure they’d killed him for real this time. How he can, once again, walk away from me.
He saved me—him and Maxim. Blake’s men had been slaughtered by them. Did he go back to kill Blake and Nick? What about Nicole? Sammy? The other girls? So many questions, and he’s not here to give me answers.
After another half-hour of pacing, anger rolls off me as the door opens. He walks in like he hasn’t just killed me with time, and for a moment, I wonder if my desperation has created a mirage of him. I need to stop second-guessing my own sanity.
“Go to Maxim,” he says to Lucius, who nods and leaves. Once the door closes, Milton strides toward me with an urgency that knocks all angry words from my mouth. All I can do is stand there, my anger dissipating the closer he gets, leaving me as he bends and lifts me into his arms. My legs go around his waist and my arms around his neck. He doesn’t stop moving. With his dark eyes on mine, he walks with me, holding me close to him.
Emotion thickens in my throat. It’s as though he has magically entered my mind and temporarily put all my questions into a box. There’s no use for words right now, not with what’s building between us.
He takes me into a room, then the bathroom, knocking on the shower. Setting me on my feet, his eyebrows furrow as he glances down at me, at the cheap dress I’m wearing. His hands clench into fists, his hate for it evident, and with that, I reach for the zipper and pull it off my body. Because I’m scared and worried that he will tell me that I’m not worth the drama, energy, or amount of blood spilled. Worried that he will fight against his feelings for me and walk away.
It’s so damneasyfor him to walk away.
He’s silent as I reach up to remove the heavily padded bra. Kicking off the heels next, the relief when I sit the soles of my feet on the cool tile is instantaneous. I’m now naked, and he visibly relaxes some, but not all the way. He doesn’t look good, disheveled and tired like he hasn’t slept in days. His black T-shirt and jeans are stained darker with what I can only imagine being blood. His hands are bloodied, and his face has various cuts here and there, though nothing deep enough to require stitches. His hair is damp with sweat, and blood is also sprayed on his face. Whether or not it’s his or the enemies’, I won’t know until it washes off in the shower.
And I really hope he intends to take me in with him.
Grabbing the hem of his T-shirt, he rips it over his head silently. My eyes drop, to the ragged cut below his ribs, the stitches pulled taut, making it appear swollen and angrily red. An infection? I want to reach out and touch him but don’t, not until he’s kicked off his boots and removed his pants, boxers, and socks.
As we gaze into each other’s eyes, we quickly close the distance and slam our lips together. He drags me into the shower, under the heated stream of water that stings as it washes away blood and grime and my last week of absolute hell without him.
“Milton,” I whimper, the sound muffled against his lips. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, and he groans, low and so fucking sexy.
Grabbing my leg, he hooks it around his hip but hesitates. “Did he…”
I shake my head, telling him that Blake hadn’t done what he’s asking. He lets out a breath of relief and frantically reaches down to line up his cock. I get into a better position, needing him inside of me. Wanting him like I’ve never wanted anyone before. Putting the thick tip at the entrance of my pussy, he thrusts into me, and we both gasp from the bite. Though, the initial sting doesn’t last as I adjust to him. The way he stretches and fills me is intense, making me instantly wet.
Tears well in my eyes. I thought he was dead. Gone. That the next time I was going to see him was in death, and I’d never get the chance to have him like this, rocking my world. Pulling his mouth from mine, he arches his hips and stares into my eyes that harbor a dark storm as he fucks me deep. “I’m so fucking sorry…”
He pushes his face into my neck and kisses me there while pushing into me against the shower wall. I grip onto him, nails puncturing his biceps, surprised by the sincerity of his apology, and choked up from his overpowering need for me. It’s reciprocated. A lot.
“Neverleave me again.” I’m surprised by the conviction in my own voice. He shakes his head, saying he won’t, moaning in a way that makes my insides clench around his cock. Fuck, if he makes that sound again, I’m going to come.
His head shakes again. “Never, I swear—fuck, princess… You’re never going anywhere again. I couldn’t breathe knowing you were with him.”
His movements get jerkier, slamming into me harder, spurring on a sudden climax that makes me moan loudly. He follows me over the edge, spilling inside of me. The hot water soothes us both as we come down from the high, and I cling to him as much as he clings to me.
“Milton?” I pull away. “Is Peter okay? And Hilary?”
“They’re both fine. Peter is recovering in the hospital.”
“I was so afraid for them. Blake was going to kill them if I didn’t go with him.”
He grips me tighter. “You’re going to watch me kill them.”
I swallow hard and mutter, “Okay.”
“I’m not going to make it quick—I’m going to torture the fuckers. Both of them.”
“I know.”
His hands grab the sides of my face, his eyes firmly on mine. “You’ll see the monster I really am.”
