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One Night: Denied

Page 12

by Jodi Ellen Malpas


  ‘Help yourself.’ He gestures to the silver dish, then sits.

  I ignore his offer, annoyed by his choice for starters, and ask my question once again. ‘How long?’

  Lifting his plate, he takes three oysters and sets them neatly down. ‘I’ve been an escort for ten years,’ he says, choosing not to look at me as he delivers his answer.

  I want to gasp in shock, but I resist, instead taking my water to moisten my suddenly parched mouth. ‘Why notorious?’

  ‘Because I’m unforgiving.’

  Now I do gasp, and I hate myself for it. This shouldn’t be news to me. I’ve experienced him being unforgiving.

  He sees me struggling but continues. ‘Because in the bedroom, I’m wicked, unloving, unfeeling, and unbothered by it. The women can’t get enough of me and the men can’t work out why that is.’

  ‘They pay for you—’

  ‘To be the best fuck of their life,’ he finishes for me. ‘And they pay obscene amounts for the privilege.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’ I shake my head, my eyes darting all over his flawless table. ‘You don’t let them kiss you or touch you.’

  ‘When I’m naked, no. When we’re intimate, no. I’m a perfect gentleman on dates, Olivia. They can feel me over my clothes, work themselves up and enjoy my attention. But that’s as far as their control goes. I’m the perfect mix of man for them. Arrogant . . . attentive . . . talented.’

  I inwardly wince. ‘Do you get anything from it?’

  ‘Yes,’ he admits. ‘I’m in full control in the bedroom and I come every time.’

  I flinch at his earnest words, looking away, feeling sick and wounded. ‘Right.’

  ‘Show me that face,’ he demands harshly, and my head lifts automatically, finding soft eyes replacing the hard ice. ‘But nothing will ever come close to the pleasure I gain from worshipping you.’

  ‘I’m struggling to see that man now,’ I say, making the softness of his expression drift into misery. ‘I so wish you’d never made me one of them.’

  ‘Never more than me,’ he whispers, slumping back in his chair. ‘Tell me there’s hope.’

  All I can see is Miller in that hotel room. My desire and need for him are still there, but our short conversation has brought the harsh reality of his life crashing down around me. I’m not equipped with enough strength to deal with him. If I let him in again, then I’m facing a lifetime of torture and possibly regret. Nothing will make me forget the unforgiving lover. All I’ll see when he takes me is a red mist of misery. My life has been difficult enough as it is. I can’t make it harder.

  ‘I asked you a question,’ he says quietly. The tone of his voice tells me he’s slipping into that clipped, arrogant mode, probably because he can see my sudden despondency, and with a flick of my eyes to his, I see that arrogance, too. He won’t go down easily.

  ‘The woman in Madrid?’

  ‘I didn’t sleep with her.’

  ‘Then why did you go?’

  ‘Prior obligation.’ He’s impassive and sharp, yet strangely I believe him. But it’s not making any of this easier to deal with.

  ‘May I use your loo?’ I ask, standing from the table, his gaze rising with me.

  ‘Once you’ve answered my question. Is there hope?’

  ‘I don’t have an answer yet,’ I lie, placing my napkin on my chair.

  ‘Might you have once you’ve visited the bathroom?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t overthink, Olivia.’

  ‘I’d say that was impossible after what you’ve presented me with, wouldn’t you agree?’ I’m being yanked in two directions, wanting to listen to William because I know he’s definitely right and wanting to trust my heart because maybe, just maybe, I can help Miller. But a definitely should always win over a maybe. The confliction is too much. It’s tearing me apart.

  He watches me carefully. Nervously. ‘You’re leaving, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’ve asked my questions. I never said I’d stay once you answered them. And I never said I’d like or accept the answers.’ The definitely wins. William wins. I leave the kitchen hastily to escape the intensity that he’s exuding.

  ‘Olivia!’

  Swinging the front door open, I dash from his apartment, knowing he’ll never allow me to leave without a fight. My troubled mind only just allows me to register my safest route from his building. I head straight for the lift. My heart is thumping chaotically, my breathing panicked and frenzied as I bash the call button.

  ‘Olivia, don’t get in that lift, please!’ His charging footsteps have me repeatedly smacking the metal button and cursing while I wait for what seems like decades for the doors to slide open. ‘Fuck! Olivia!’

  I dive in, smack the button for the ground floor, and push myself up against the far wall. I’m being cruel, but desperation is overriding any guilt I’m feeling for using this weakness against him.

  I knew he’d make it in time, but I still jump when his arm appears and crashes against the doors, pulling them open. His brow is a sheen of sweat, his eyes wide with fear. ‘Get out!’ he yells, his broad shoulders heaving.

  I shake my head. ‘No.’

  His jaw looks set to shatter from tenseness. ‘Get out of the fucking lift!’

  I keep quiet, pushing myself further into the wall. He’s fuming mad, frighteningly so.

  ‘How could you do this?’ he pants, yanking the door open when it tries to close again. ‘How?’

  ‘I can’t be with you, Miller.’ My voice is barely audible over his laboured breathing and my clattering heart.

  ‘Livy, I beg you, don’t do this to me again.’ He’s beginning to shake, his eyes darting continuously from me to the inside of the elevator.

  ‘I can’t forget that man.’ I reach out and press the button again.

  ‘Fuck!’ He releases the doors and they start to close. ‘I refuse to give up, Olivia.’ Blue eyes glaze over, his expression straightening. ‘I won’t lose.’

  ‘You’ve already lost,’ I murmur as his face disappears.

  Chapter Eleven

  I don’t know how I’ve ended up here. Probably to reinforce my decision. Seeing the four-poster bed, the regal room, and the images of me restrained is helping steel my resolve. But it’s also magnifying the pain. I’m standing in the middle of the hotel room, gazing around, torturing myself further and praying for some strength to see me through. Run away. Disappear for ever. I can see no other way. My skin is prickling and cold. My eyes are sore with tears. The plans I started to make so many times need to be completed and fulfilled now. I need to go away for a while, put space between us and hope the saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is true. For both of us.

  ‘Why did you come here?’ The question filters through the rush of blood that’s distorting my hearing, dragging me back into the chilly room.

  ‘To help convince myself that I’m doing the right thing.’

  ‘Does it feel right?’

  ‘No,’ I admit. Nothing feels right. It’s all so very wrong. I hear the door click shut, snapping me from my daydream, and I swing around to find a mess of a man, his hair wild, his suit crumpled. But his blue eyes are relieved.

  ‘I won’t lose,’ he says, resting his hands in his pocket. ‘I can’t lose, Olivia.’

  Tears begin to trickle down my cheeks as I stand before him, defeated.

  Conquered.

  His back hits the door, his own eyes glazing over as his body sags into the wood. The sight of Miller Hart fighting to prevent his tears from falling rips my heart from my chest and makes my knees buckle, sending my body folding to the floor. My chin hits my chest, and my hair tumbles over my shoulders. And I cry. The broken man before me has always made my eyes hurt, but this time it’s not with pleasure at his beauty. This time it’s seeing him looking so tormented. Desperat
e. Ruined.

  I’m engulfed by him in a nanosecond, his warm arms wrapped tightly around me, my face pushed into his chest. ‘Don’t cry,’ he whispers, pulling me onto his lap. ‘I need you to be strong for me.’

  I’m scooped up and carried to the bed. ‘It ends here,’ he says, laying me down gently and spreading his body over me, burying his face in my neck. I don’t fight. I let his body melt into mine, let his strength seep into me, holding onto him like my life depends on it. He does the same. Each of us is squeezing tightly, both of our hearts pounding a strong, steady thrum. I can hear the beats. We’re both coming back to life.

  His head lifts slowly until I’m staring into blue eyes filled with anguish. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He wipes my eyes. ‘I know I’ve run away, too, but I accept it now.’ He dips and kisses me gently, his soft lips wanted and terribly needed. ‘I need you to do the same.’ He sits up and pulls me onto his lap with ease, swamping me with his arms and kissing my face repeatedly. ‘What we have is beautiful, Olivia. I can’t give it up.’ He grasps my dress by the hem but doesn’t set about removing it. ‘May I?’

  I answer by pushing his suit jacket from his shoulders, and he drops my dress to allow me to rid him of it. I need his naked skin on mine.

  ‘Thank you,’ he breathes, removing my dress and casting it aside. His lips find mine and begin a delicate caress, his tongue tentative and soft as it slips into my mouth. My mind blanks, but my body responds instinctively. I accept his kiss, returning his soft, lazy pace, soaking up the emotion pouring from his entire being. His warm hands are all over me, touching and feeling everywhere, reminding me of the lack of skin beneath my palms. I start unbuttoning his waistcoat, then his shirt, until my hands are diving inside the material, feeling him everywhere for too short a time before I’m pushing the garments from his body, refusing to release his lips, not even to take in his perfect torso. Once his arms are free again, he unhooks the clasp of my bra and slowly pulls it from my body, exposing my tight, tingling nipples. He breaks our kiss, and I whimper in protest, reaching down to unfasten his trousers.

  That hypnotising mouth is parted, allowing breathy pants to escape, and his eyes are focused on my modest breasts. I pull at his trousers once they’re undone, impatient for him to be naked.

  He rips his eyes from my chest and looks up at me. ‘Taste me.’

  I waste no time, but I seek out his neck rather than his mouth, nibbling on his throat and taking a long inhale of his manly scent. I’m all over him, making him moan and mumble in gratification.

  ‘My mouth,’ he groans, and I divert immediately to his lips with his plea. ‘Oh Jesus, Olivia.’ Big palms find my cheeks and hold my head securely while we kiss, soft and slow. ‘I can’t imagine anything could feel better than kissing you,’ he says against my lips. ‘Tell me you’re mine.’

  I nod against him and meet his swirling tongue as he takes me down to the bed, letting me quickly push his trousers down his long legs. He abandons me momentarily, producing a condom from nowhere and slipping it on, hissing and clenching his eyes shut before falling back down to my body. I whimper when he settles between my thighs and I feel the broad head of his erection nudging at my entrance.

  ‘Say it.’ He bites at my bottom lip, rearing back. ‘Don’t deny me.’

  ‘Yours.’ There’s no question.

  He rests his forehead on mine and pushes into me on a controlled surge of breath. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Miller,’ I sigh, feeling the pieces of my fallen heart merging back together. My eyes close on a satisfied exhale, a peace settling over me, and he begins a lazy sway of his hips. With my hands free, I can touch him, and I make the most of it, slowly sliding my palms everywhere, feeling every inch of him. Our tongues are dancing sweetly, his hips are rolling gently, and reverence is pouring from him. He’s fully redeemed, his attentiveness extinguishing the horror scene of this hotel, this perfect moment reminding me of the sweet, gentle man he is when he’s worshipping me – the man I need him to be. The man he wants to be. For me.

  ‘I’m never freeing your lips,’ he declares, our sweaty bodies slipping languidly. ‘Never.’ I’m rolled from beneath him so I’m straddling his lap, still full to the maximum, the movement sending him so incredibly deep.

  ‘Oh God!’ My palms slap into his abs and brace, my chin hitting my chest.

  ‘Fuck!’ Miller curses, grinding up into me, his hands gripping the tops of my thighs. ‘Olivia Taylor,’ he whispers. ‘My most precious possession.’

  ‘You’re never freeing my lips,’ I choke through the desire, then gasp as his palm is quickly secured on my nape and yanking me down to his face. He thrusts up again. I cry out.

  Then he sends me out of my mind with a kiss so full of hunger, I struggle to remember my name.

  ‘Move.’ He nips my tongue and encourages me by smoothing his hands around to my bottom and tugging up. I feel him slip from my passage, instigating a delicious friction that prompts me to fly up on a yell. My hands delve into my hair. ‘That’s it, Livy!’

  The pleasure contorting his face injects some fortitude into me. I lift and fall onto his lap uncontrolled. ‘Like that?’ I ask, not waiting for his answer. His clenched eyes tell me, so I repeat, gripping my blond masses of hair harshly. ‘Miller, tell me!’

  ‘Yes!’ His eyes fly open, his jaw clenched. ‘You can do whatever the fucking hell you want to me, Olivia. I’ll take it all.’

  I pause, breathing heavily, feeling him throb incessantly within me, my muscles stroking every pulse. ‘Me too.’

  He moves quickly, taking me to my back and slipping back into me with ease. Then his fingertip makes a lazy trail down my hot cheek before he claims my mouth again. ‘I wish you were in my bed,’ he murmurs around my lips, circling his hips, beginning another excruciating pattern of steady circles and deep plunges. ‘Please say I can take you back to my bed and cuddle you all night.’

  His request triggers a question, making me break our kiss so I can ask, ‘How can cuddling be your thing?’ I don’t allow him time to answer. I’m missing his mouth terribly already, so I waste no time sealing my lips to his and dipping my tongue in his mouth as he continues to rock lazily into me.

  ‘It’s only a thing with you.’ He nibbles on my lip and plants feathery kisses from one corner of my mouth to another. ‘I just want to squeeze you to death.’

  I smile up at him and nearly burst into tears when he blasts me back with his rare but beautiful smile, his blue eyes twinkling wildly. He really has redeemed himself, the brutal Miller long forgotten. I want his lips on mine again, but I also want to look at his face when it’s smiling the brightest I’ve ever seen. ‘I love your smile,’ I declare on a breathy gasp, just as he blesses me with a smooth rotation of his groin, catching me just perfectly on my front wall. ‘Oh God!’

  ‘I only smile for you.’ He pecks my lips and pushes his torso up so he’s braced on his long, lean arms. ‘I love your breasts.’ He flicks his eyes to them and licks his lips provocatively.

  ‘I don’t have much.’ I almost want to cover my lack of assets with my palms but my hands have other ideas and are feeling out his forearms.

  ‘I beg to differ.’ He gasps a little and slowly closes his eyes as he delivers the ultimate, deep, precise grind. My muscles stiffen, and I push against his rooted arms.

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ I gasp, feeling the head of a delicious orgasm brimming.

  ‘Are you going to come, sweet girl?’

  ‘Yes,’ I moan, my back bowing, my legs curling around his waist. The hot rush of pressure in my groin is descending swiftly.

  Dropping his head, he slowly peels his eyes open and falls to his forearms. ‘Give me your lips.’ He groans as he plunges, retreats, and inches carefully back into me. The crippling pleasure that he’s inflicting on me is sending me dizzy. ‘Livy, I’ve asked once.’

  He puts his face closer to mine so
with a slight lift of my head, our tongues meet and begin duelling delicately, but when I start shaking as my climax takes hold, he pushes further into me, kissing me ardently and moaning loudly. My hands find his hair and dive into his wet waves, pushing into the back of his head.

  ‘I’m coming,’ I groan. ‘Miller, I’m coming.’ I start to contract around him and try to harden my kiss as I’m attacked by waves of pleasure, but he doesn’t allow me to. He just pulls away ever so slightly for a few seconds before brushing our lips together, silently guiding me.

  Hot sparks of pleasure seem to attack me from every direction. I can’t breathe through the overwhelming sensations. I scream. I explode. My flesh pulses and my eyes become heavy as he continues to worship my mouth and thrust lazily into me. I can feel the shattered pieces of me pulling back together again under his adoring attention. We can do this. As long as we have each other, we can battle through the challenges before us. My fortitude has never been so strong.

  ‘Thank you,’ I sigh on a smile, letting my arms flop above my head.

  ‘Never thank me.’

  Through my blissed-out state, I vaguely register the absence of him softening within me. ‘You haven’t come,’ I wheeze.

  He slowly pulls out of me and starts to kiss his way down my body until his head is between my thighs and he’s sending me delirious with a tickling flick of his tongue over my quivering flesh, followed by a firm lash straight up my centre. I writhe under him, trying to control the pulsing twinges as he crawls back up my body and sinks his tongue back into my mouth.

  ‘I worship you.’ He drops a kiss lightly on my forehead and circles our noses. ‘Give me my thing.’

  ‘My arms don’t work.’

  ‘Give me my thing, Livy.’ He raises cautionary eyebrows at me, making me smile more. ‘Now.’

  It doesn’t take much effort at all to fulfil his demand. My arms circle his shoulders and crush him to me. ‘I want to be in your bed,’ I mumble into his hair, wishing I were there already.

  ‘Then you will be.’ He rolls over, taking me with him, and then pushes me up so I’m astride his stomach. He studies me quietly.

 

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