by Ella Miles
“That’s what I thought.”
I watch in horror as he pulls the pillows and blankets from the bed and starts making himself a cot on the floor next to my spot.
“You really don’t need to be here,” I say.
“I do. I need you healed.”
“So you can fuck me?”
“No,” his eyes sear.
“So you can sell me?”
He groans. “I’m not going through this with you again.” He fluffs his pillow and then lies down on the pile of covers and blankets. But doesn’t cover himself. His perfect round ass sticks straight up in the air.
“I’ll have a new door and locks installed for you in the morning.”
“You’re not mad I had them installed?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “This is your room now; you can do whatever you want with it.”
“Because I’m never leaving this room?”
He doesn’t answer, which means his answer is yes.
I sigh and decide not to continue our circle of usual conversation any longer.
“Sleep, Kai.”
I curl up on the floor watching him as he closes his eyes. He looks so peaceful lying on top of the covers like that. I don’t ask why he doesn’t cover up. I know how hot he runs. He doesn’t need covers to be warm.
I’m the one who needs covers, but I can’t tolerate them.
I need to be warmed.
Enzo could warm you. But I won’t ever ask or risk the burn I felt before.
I’m alone.
Always alone.
I close my eyes and try to sleep, but I already know what I’ll dream about, and in some way it will be a worse nightmare. One of the only things that kept me sane all those years was Enzo. I’d dream of him, his kiss, his body. I’d imagine his cock as I rode him. I’d imagine the look he would give me, the want. I would fantasize about him saving me, fucking me when the other men were touching me.
Enzo saved me more than once in these last few years, and now that I’ve seen his real cock, I’ve seen the glaze of his eyes as he imagines fucking me, I won’t be able to stop fantasizing about him. Even though I can never have him. Even though he’s the worst kind of man, he still saved me numerous times in my dreams—once for real. As much as he’s a monster, he will always be my savior.
I can pretend I can never forgive him for selling me, but he did it to save my life. To give me a chance to stay alive. He was hiding me from someone more dangerous than him. And someday soon, I will get my answers.
20
Enzo
Kai’s screams will forever live in my head.
I always thought the next time I’d hear her scream was with me thrusting in her tight cunt. But that will only ever happen in my dreams. I won’t hurt her.
Instead, the scream I heard hit me to my core. I thought someone had broken into the house and was torturing, raping Kai.
My feet have never flown so fast up the stairs, determined to kill the intruder for touching what was mine. But I was met with a door that wouldn’t open. I couldn’t protect her.
I chewed Westcott out big time for allowing Kai to install such locks on the door, even though I knew why he did it, and it was the right move. Then again, I couldn’t stand to not be able to save and protect her from whatever devil was on the other side of the door.
Breaking down the door was easy when I had that much adrenaline and willpower running through my veins.
And then I saw Kai. Alone. No torture was happening, at least not in the present. It was a nightmare.
A nightmare I couldn’t save her from.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
How did I let this happen? How did I let her get hurt? And why have I grown so soft as to care for her when I’ve only ever cared about my own survival? This girl threatens my survival more than anything.
I will never forget the agony on her face, and her naked body still bearing every mark the bastard laid on her. It makes me want to return Jarod from the depths of the ocean only to kill him again for hurting her.
Then she found my gun. I wish she would have pulled the trigger and ended my life, but when she turned it on herself, I realized how much more she mattered to me than I was aware. Why do I think her life is worth more than mine?
It made me admit how much I want her, even though I’m fucked up. I’m the worst possible man in the entire world to want her. I thought telling her one bit of the truth would warn her to stay away and hide her body from me. Of course, Kai did no such thing.
And then I did the stupidest thing I’ve done in a while. I decided to sleep on the floor next to her. It’s the middle of the day, but it doesn’t matter. The sun no longer shines in due to the blackout curtains. And my sleep schedule is fucked up. I work more nights than days. I’m used to sleeping in the daylight.
I slept on the ground next to her; it was purgatory. Not just because the hardwood floor is the most uncomfortable place to sleep, even with my pile of blankets, but because I was so near to Kai and couldn’t touch her.
The last time I slept next to her, I got to touch her. I got to feel her cool skin, and it slowed my unsteady heart, cooled my veins, and relaxed me. Being so close, but not being able to press against her was excruciating, even if it was for both our benefits. It’s not something I want to repeat.
But even that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was worrying she might have another nightmare—one I couldn’t save her from.
It’s obvious from spending time with her she doesn’t want to be touched. And I’m happy to oblige. But what if she’s in the middle of a nightmare and it’s the only way to pull her out? Then what would I do?
Thankfully, I don’t have to answer that question, because Kai sleeps undisturbed—whether from my presence or sheer exhaustion.
I watch her sleep. It’s been almost eight hours since I’ve laid down next to her. She’s been asleep the whole time. While I’ve struggled to keep my eyes closed for more than an hour at a time. I don’t need much sleep, I’ve adapted to survive. You don’t get to sleep much when dangerous men with guns are hunting you down. And I’d rather watch her sleep than rest my own eyes.
Kai coils her body tightly into a coil; I’m sure that’s the only thing keeping her remotely warm. I’m desperate to cover her with a blanket to warm her if she doesn’t let me touch her. But I resist.
I try to look past the bruises and scars, but I want to feel every one. I deserve to feel the pain for what I did.
I deserved that pain, not her.
I was the coward.
I chose my life over hers.
If only I could change the outcome.
“Enzo,” she whispers.
My attention draws back to her. I expect her to wake, but she doesn’t. She’s still asleep, dreaming about me.
“Yes, Enzo, like that.”
Wait? Is she having—
“Fuck yes, Enzo. Fuck me harder.”
A sex dream.
I smile. God, please don’t let this be the last time I hear her curse my name like this in anticipation of coming. It probably will be the last time, so I revel in it. I let it fill me for all the times I will never get to experience her beauty, her passion, her rage.
I want to feel everything Kai has to give. She would have the passion in bed most women lack. Most women I’ve been with only go through the motions. They think it’s all about how big their boobs are or how they sway their ass or the sweet coos that leave their too plump lips as I fuck them. I don’t give a shit about any of that. I’ve always wanted a woman who could equal me—who would fight me in bed—a woman I’d have to tame in order to touch. Worship to be worthy. Love to be her king.
Kai Miller is the only woman who ever seemed like she could fit the bill.
Maybe because she was always off the table, it was just a fantasy I could never confirm or deny. Never realize if Kai is just like all the rest of the women or not.
Hearing her beg for me in her dreams i
s enough confirmation to know exactly what I’m giving up by not consuming her. She is the woman I’ve pined for all these years. All it would take is for me to turn into the monster she already thinks I am.
Kai’s eyes open, and she smiles at me sweetly.
I smirk. You wouldn’t be smiling at me so sweetly if you knew what I just overheard.
I lay on my side, and her eyes widen as she notices my rock hard cock. Her mouth waters as she stares openly, not hiding her shame at gawking at me.
“Don’t be getting any ideas. My cock is off-limits.”
Her smile vanishes, and she scowls at me. “I wasn’t thinking about wanting your cock. Trust me; I could live the rest of my life without fantasizing about another cock.”
“Hmm, somehow I don’t think that’s true.”
I stare between her legs, even though I know I’m playing with fire.
She doesn’t cover herself up.
“So if I asked you to put a finger between your thighs, you wouldn’t be wet right now?”
“No.”
“Prove it.”
“Why? What do I get if I win?”
I shrug, overly confident. “Whatever you want.”
She smiles. “And if you win?”
“The pleasure at being right.”
“Deal.”
She places two fingers between her legs. Her face immediately drops. She’s soaked.
I smirk. “Told ya.”
I continue to smile as I walk into the bathroom where the cold tile hit my feet. My cock is hard as a rock thinking of her desperate moans.
Fuck.
I pride myself on my self-control, but this is impossible. How am I going to keep resisting her when I have to be so close to her? How can I resist her naked body?
Avoidance.
I turn the shower to cold and step inside. Not even allowing myself to jack off to her—that would be giving in and showing weakness. I am not weak. I will not let her or anyone else control me.
The cold droplets should help. Instead, they just remind me of her.
Jesus Christ, I curse as I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t even get relief from a shower. I need to get the fuck out of here. So that’s what I do.
Day after day passes, and our routine only fortifies into the same.
During the day I sleep on a cot on the floor next to a naked Kai. And at night I get work done. I’m ruthless in my endeavors. I work harder than I’ve ever worked, turning my money into more money and ruling the underground, sparking more fear at the sound of the Black name.
I should be thrilled Kai is fueling such dedication to my work, but I’m not happy. I can’t keep going on like this. I try my best to be a machine. I turn off my feelings and work, but it’s impossible to keep Kai from my mind when I get a new image of her naked body every night.
She’s started healing. Her body has begun to fill out now that she’s eating and sleeping properly. If she wore clothes, it would be easy to think of her as normal, albeit a little skinny. But she never clothes herself unless I demand it—which I haven’t. It’s like she wants to taunt me with the scars I allowed to happen on her body. I have my own scars, so there is no need for an imagination for me to understand the pain she endured in getting hers. It makes my skin crawl thinking about Jarod hurting her. Thank fuck he’s dead.
I’ve spent the night turned away from Kai, but I can still hear her heavy breathing. It almost sounds like panting.
I squeeze my eyes tighter, wishing I could do the same to my ears. I’m a wreck. I’m sweating; my cock is hard, my balls blue from not allowing myself to jerk off to her.
It’s been weeks now.
Weeks.
I’ve gone this long without sinking my dick into a woman before, but it’s different when I’m so desperate for such easy prey right next to me.
My alarm goes off, and I don’t care that its blaring wakes her up. She’s gotten enough sleep.
“Morning,” Kai says. “Or should I say good evening.”
I frown, ignoring her pleasantries. I need to get out of here faster than usual today. I need to find a new solution because I can’t keep sleeping next to her on the floor. For one, my back can’t handle it anymore.
I stomp to the bathroom, preparing myself for another cold shower. But at the last minute, I change the water to steaming hot. I’ve tried cold too many times. It only reminds me of Kai’s icy skin. I need hot.
And then I step under the steaming water.
“Hey!” I hear Kai’s voice.
I close my eyes, ignore her.
“Hey, asshole! You aren’t even going to talk to me anymore now?”
I count to three.
One.
Two.
Three.
It usually helps me gather my rage before I speak. I am in control—just not around her.
“No, I’m not going to fucking talk to you, Kai!”
My rage overwhelms me. I know Kai has questions, and she’s just lonely. Well, she wouldn’t be so alone if she would ever leave this fucking room, but she hasn’t since that first day.
I have questions too.
Like why the hell does she sleep on the floor instead of the bed?
Why won’t she let anyone touch her?
How did she get every bruise?
And most of all, what happened to her that made her forget the truth of what happened to her?
I turn the water off and step out.
Kai stands with her arms crossed as she glares at me.
I grab a towel and start drying off, not caring to hide my body from her. We are both too comfortable with each other’s bodies now. There is nothing left to hide.
“What do you want, Kai?”
“You know what I want,” she breathes.
I roll my eyes. “You don’t always get what you want or even what you need. You of all people should have learned that by now.”
I walk to the closet and begin getting dressed in a dark gray suit.
She follows.
“Why do you sleep on the floor?”
Her eyes widen, and her head whips back. “What?”
“You heard me. Why?”
She doesn’t answer me, she just blinks.
I huff. “You want your questions answered, well I have questions of my own.”
Her breath rises and falls in her chest, pushing her hard nipples toward me.
I close my eyes again, trying to think of anything but her tempting body. In my angered state, I can’t help but want her. And I know my self-control is growing dangerously close to losing.
When I open my eyes, she’s somehow made her body even more appetizing. Her lips are parted, I can see her taunting tongue between her teeth begging to be in my mouth. Her nipples are pointing at me, and her legs are squeezed together as if hiding a secret.
I stride toward her with a look meant to scare her. She doesn’t back down.
She stands taller, stronger.
I growl.
She huffs back.
This is never going to end. I’m never going to be free of her until I understand what she went through—seeing that bastard and the yacht she was tortured on isn’t enough. Only once I hear her story in her own words can I heal her. Only then can I leave and never look back. My favorite house will become hers; I will sail away on my yacht and leave Miami in Langston’s control. I prefer the sea anyway.
I need this to end.
I need to get away from her, stop thinking about her. Then I can go back to fucking any woman and return to my normal life of self-control.
What would end this?
I smirk as the answer finally comes to me.
“How about a game of truth or lies?” I ask.
A slow grin forms on her face. “Stakes?”
“Winner gets to ask the other three questions. Any three questions.”
Her face lights up. I don’t care if she wins. Her winning might actually let me leave faster. But even if I lose, I will still end up with m
ore answers, because in the game, she always reveals more about herself. And I need to know everything about Kai to free us both.
21
Kai
Enzo wants to play.
It seems the only way either of us will share information is through the game. And I’m ready for redemption after the last time we played and I lost.
I’ll do anything to get answers. And I’ve already lost everything, my freedom included, and got nothing in return.
Enzo continues to dry his dripping body off with a towel, feeling free to show me every inch of him.
I don’t like being touched, but it doesn’t stop my body from aching to be stroked by him. I want to sink my claws into his sculpted abs. I want to outline the mysterious wounds marring his body. Run my tongue over his thick jawline until I taste his salty lips.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom when you’re finished getting dressed,” I say, turning to leave. If I’m not gaping at him, I won’t be as tempted. He doesn’t thirst for me anyway. And I don’t want him to crave me. If he did, he would have already forced himself on me. And neither my body nor soul could handle it.
“No.”
I pause, snapping my head toward him. “Change your mind?” Please tell me you didn’t. I need more information. Even if I lose, I’ll learn more about this strange man. And I’m tired of being alone. Our nights together are our only interaction. And we barely speak one sentence to each other.
The only real conversations I have are with Dr. Miranda and Westcott. Although neither talk about anything other than whether I’m healing or not. I’m tired of being alone. Even if it just means playing a game where we both try to hide the truth.
“We aren’t playing in the bedroom,” he says.
I gape.
“You will need to leave the bedroom,” he continues.
He wants me to get dressed. To wear clothes, so I don’t distract him.
“I’m not wearing any clothes,” I say defiantly.
He smirks and drops the towel. “Neither am I.”
Shit. Why did I think this was a good idea again?
Because now as much as he’s going to be tempted by my body, I’m going to be distracted by his. And I can’t let it show. I can’t let him see my weakness.