by Aria Cole
“I don’t like feeling like that. I felt robbed of my favorite part of making love—you.” Irritation and tears burned behind my eyes.
“Oh, baby.” He swallowed me in his arms. “I’m so, so sorry, Elle. Please forgive me.” One gentle palm caressed my cheek. “I swear to you I’ll never let it happen again. I felt terrible the instant it was over, so ashamed.” His head dropped to my shoulder in quiet genuflection. “My favorite part of making love is making love with you.”
The remaining vestiges of my anger dissipated with his words. He was complicated and moody, sometimes a jerk and always infuriating, but he was kind and loving and the most thoughtful man I’d ever known. He was my gentle beast and my charming prince all wrapped up in one beautifully complicated package.
“Do you want to talk about what happened that made you…?” I struggled to find words, but I was willing to give him the only comfort I could think to give—myself.
“Not right now. I just need to be with you.” He turned my face toward his, and his eyes pleaded with me as his fingers traced a lock of my hair over one shoulder. “You make me feel better.” His forehead dropped to mine. “I need to know we’re okay.”
I swallowed the lump of overwhelming emotion in my throat and nodded. He lifted me in his iron biceps, pulling me against his broad chest and making me feel pure, unyielding love for this dark man with a gentle heart.
I was sure I was strong enough to love him. I already did.
Chapter Twenty
Maxwell
I woke the next morning after only a few hours of sleep, and I was more anxious than ever. Not because of what I’d had to do with Tony last night—the act had been inconsequential to a man like me—but because I somehow felt as though I’d been manipulated into doing it. The more I thought it over, the more I thought she’d positioned herself perfectly on my doorstep and in my bed. I couldn’t think about it anymore. And when I’d seen her darting around the corner after catching me pounding the shit out of my punching bag, I couldn’t let her walk away. She had no idea how she’d made me feel, and I needed someone to take it out on. I’d known I was being an ass and she deserved better, but I couldn't get past my suspicions. The web she’d pulled me into might haunt us forever.
I wanted her. Hell, maybe I even needed her. But I wasn’t sure I trusted her.
I flicked on the light in my room, where she lay sleeping peacefully. “You’re late.”
Her eyes wavered open, and for the first time, I saw the dark circles that resided there. So we’d both gone without sleep last night.
I’d done my best to make up with her in the shower because I couldn’t leave her trembling and alone after I’d had the orgasm of my life while taking her from behind. I’d been angry, looking for something to punish. That was why I’d installed the gym equipment, but she’d caught me with a fresh wound to the heart. I’d handed over the cash to Tony fucking Scardelli, and all I could think was that I’d been played by the pretty dark-haired girl and her goon.
A slow frown passed over her face as I walked across the room to open the blinds. I was already fully showered and dressed, anxious to head downstairs and move on from the pain of last night.
“Doors open in thirty minutes; you’d better be there.” I heard the dark edge in my voice, but my racing thoughts left me powerless to filter it. I stalked from the room before I changed my mind and darted back in to pull her into my arms and forgive her for both of our fucked-up pasts.
I clenched my fists and took the stairs to the library two at a time. I would get some reading done to keep my mind off everything until the doors opened.
I turned on one desk lamp then opened the copy of The Count of Monte Cristo I kept behind the desk, flipping through to a passage about surviving and persisting when the world seems out to get you. It resonated now more than ever.
I’d been foolish to think I could escape my past, that anyone I came into contact with wouldn’t know about what had happened in my picture-perfect family. It’d made headlines all over the state. Of course she knew. Everyone knew.
My eyes cast up fifteen minutes later when I heard her soft footfalls coming down the stairs. Anticipation and anxiety coiled my gut as I prepared to see her in the bright light of day after doing everything I could last night to save her from her dark past.
Chapter Twenty-One
Elle
Maxwell sat behind the circulation desk, soft lamplight caressing the hard angles of his jaw, while he read with a book propped in one hand. So endearing, so beautiful, so misunderstood. I wanted to crawl into his lap and listen to him read then kiss away his pain and soothe away his worries. At one point, I’d thought I’d be able to, but with the way he’d been last night and then so short this morning…
Even when he’d made up with me, he’d only done it out of obligation. He was a kind man; the protector in him was unable to walk away from someone in pain. But I wasn’t special, and that led me to think that maybe he didn’t want me anymore. Maybe he’d used me. But for what? I had nothing that could appeal to such a beautiful, accomplished, well-rounded man.
“Morning,” I offered when I entered the room.
“Mondays are slow. I’ve got shit to do in the back, so you won’t see me much. Call me if it’s an emergency.” He dropped the book on the desk then stalked out of the room, leaving me more confused and hurt than ever.
Crushed, I sat in his vacated seat and thumbed through the old volume he’d been reading. The Count of Monte Cristo. Of course. Maxwell was a veritable stronghold himself, with walls so high around his heart they were impossible to overcome.
I sighed then glanced at the clock, thinking I still had time to make myself a cup of coffee before the doors opened. I decided to make a cup for Maxwell too, thinking it might cheer him up. Maybe caffeine would brighten his day like it did mine.
I padded back to his office a few minutes later, two fresh, steaming mugs in my hands, and peered through the crack of his door. He sat at his desk, head in his hands, his hair wild as if he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times already this morning. When he glanced up at me, a conflicted look covered his face. His eyes burned with some intense pain that nearly shredded my heart like a blade. What could have had this man so tortured?
I tried to lift my smile. “I brought you coffee.” I pushed through the door, thinking this may have been the wrong decision.
His gaze sent chills racing down my spine.
“I only drink one cup in the morning. You wasted it.”
With those few words, my stomach rolled, and I wanted to crawl under the rug and never face him again. How could he talk to me like that? How could he use me last night and be so callous this morning?
I steeled my spine, sucking in a breath of courage before I slammed the coffee down on his desk, splashing it over the edge of the mug, before I spun to leave the room. He roared after me, but the slamming of the door muffled his curse words.
“I hope you stay locked up in here forever,” I grit through my teeth as I went back to the circulation desk, my nerves too wound to drink my own coffee. “Bastard.”
I pushed a hand through my hair before glancing at the clock and seeing it was two minutes past nine. We were late to open. Good. I hoped it pissed him off even more. Working side by side with this jerk felt like it might turn into another form of hell today.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maxwell
I prowled out of the back office just before noon, more frustrated than ever. My mind had spun itself out all morning with the implications of what I’d done—gotten rid of her problem, sure, but stepped into a giant pile of shit of my own. That sleazy fucker now knew where I lived, where she was, and could come back again and again. Maybe we should have told the cops about him, but at the time, I’d only wanted to do what was best for her, and no one else could have done it better than I could. But maybe she’d taken me for a fool all along.
Who was this girl anyway? Where did she come f
rom? I’d had her in my bed, tasted her cunt, and forced her to clean the floor naked, and I didn’t even know a damn thing about her.
I stalked down the short hallway until my eyes landed on her curvy form sliding the lock on the old door and closing us to the outside world for the next hour for lunch.
“In a hurry?” I said when she spun to find me waiting for her.
Her sweet brown eyes scrunched, her face falling in a quick frown before her eyes averted. Ouch. That hurt.
“I was going to go out for lunch,” she said and grabbed for her purse at the counter.
“We need to talk.” I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but this felt too undone, too much left unsaid. Now was the time to make it right, tell her exactly how I felt, and tell her I couldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever. “I have questions that need answering.”
She melted under my gaze. Like a shrinking violet, her shoulders hunched and her chin dipped, causing the self-loathing asshole within me to rage.
Without waiting for her answer, I pulled her down the nearest aisle and watched as she twisted her fingers together. The soft fabric of her shirt fell over her shoulder and caressed one full breast.
She was so beautiful. A sexy siren chasing my lonely heart. Her sweet doe eyes looked up at me as the wispy curls fluttered around her cheeks. When I thought about the way her hips swung when she walked across the room, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. She’d driven me nearly insane watching her wash this floor yesterday, and now here she was, pissing me off and turning me on at the same time.
“I don’t know what you do to me, but I don’t recognize the man I am when I’m with you,” I said with a serrated edge to my voice.
I spun her around in the stacks of books until her cheek was pushed up against the musty spines, her fingertips grasping at the old wood that held the lengthy volumes. I needed her. I needed her before my mind exploded with all the pressing anxiety of her lying, her leaving, her loving. Her. Her. Her. Her.
Everything about her consumed me with all-encompassing madness.
My hands slid down her curves and up the soft slope of her ass before I thrust a hand down her pants and pushed the denim down her thighs. Her breathing picked up as my lips trailed across her neck and I dug my nose into the sweet strawberry scent of her hair. Jesus, I’d missed being close to her. Maybe I had been punishing myself more than her when I’d pushed her over the edge last night. I didn’t know anymore; she had me so fucked up inside my own head and soothed in every moment of her presence it left me reeling. So I would fuck my energy away. It seemed the only thing that scratched the itch since she’d shown up on my doorstep like a drowned kitten, pleading for this job.
“You walk around so innocent. You don't know what you do to men like me.” I pushed my hands up her torso, pulling the shirt from over her head and throwing it on the floor before my hands made quick work of her bra. “Driving me nuts. Making me think I can have you, filling my head with noise. I won’t let you take advantage of me. I may have fixed your little problem”—I was releasing more than just sexual energy on her; I was releasing everything—“but not anymore, beautiful. Either you’re mine, or you’re not, but you will not fuck with me.”
I gave a soft yank on her hair before I pulled her hips to meet mine. With one swift zip, my trousers were below my waist, and my cock was lined up with her silky entrance.
“Do you want my cock?” I asked, unsure why I needed her permission now when I’d taken her so forcefully the night before. But I wanted her to give it to me. I wanted to know she still needed me like I needed her.
She stood silent, the quick twitch of her jaw and the slow rocking of her hips her only response.
“Tell me. Be upfront with me. No more games, no more agendas,” I said as the tip of my cock made contact with her sweet pussy. “I want you. All of you. Do”—I pushed in—“you”—another inch farther—“want me?”
With barely harnessed restraint, I waited in silent desperation.
I was surprised when her head whipped around and her eyes swam with something I couldn't quite place before they narrowed and she slammed her hips back on my dick, seating me fully inside her body.
“Take me,” she said in a tone I’d never heard fall from her mouth. “Take me, but don’t be mistaken. You may think I’m sweet and innocent, but you don’t know what you’re dealing with. I promise you that.” Her hands clutched at the shelves, her eyes darting down to where we connected before she wiggled her ass and sent me over the edge of all sanity. “Now take me.”
I lost it right there in my own little library, amongst the old books I’d flipped through a hundred times each. I lost my mind while buried inside Elle. She was every dream come true I’d never thought was possible, and I couldn’t fuck it up. I couldn’t let her walk another minute through this day without telling her that, but I’d never done this before. Never had to make a relationship work, and for the first time, I wanted one too.
I clutched at her soft hips as she moaned and rode my cock. I needed to feel her, see her, touch her in every way, so I spun her in my arms and hitched her legs up over my hips. I forced her to straddle me as I stood, planting her against the tomes and impaling her on my body again.
“So fucking beautiful.” My hands dug into her hair, and I relished the strawberry scent filling my nostrils. “Your eyes, your body, so fucking perfect. It was made for me.”
Her head was tucked into my shoulder so I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her. Everywhere. With her nails digging into the skin of my shoulders, I buried myself, chasing happiness with her I didn’t know was mine to have.
“You’re mine. Do you hear me?” I pulled her chin up to meet my gaze. “Whatever happens. You. Are. Mine.”
My orgasm burned low at my spine when her legs shook and her nails dug fiery scratches across my deltoids. I thrust my head back as she twisted her hips, fisting me like a glove, before my orgasm rocketed off, tightening my muscles and stealing all the oxygen from the room.
Her legs slowly relaxed, and I gently set her on the floor, making sure she was steady on her feet before I pulled her clothing from where I’d tossed it and helped her dress. And still, she didn't say a word. When she slipped the shirt over her head, covering the last bare flesh, she turned away. Her hair fell in a dark curtain, hiding her from me.
Hiding her.
My gut twisted as I realized this was exactly what she did, her coping mechanism. She was passive until… what? Would she blow up at me? Just leave? I couldn’t imagine that. This thing between us was too strong, wasn’t it?
I shoved a hand through my hair, wondering what the hell I was supposed to say or do but feeling again like I’d just taken something from her that she wasn’t willing to give. That was me pushing people around, taking what I wanted. This was why I didn’t have relationships and didn’t do well with people.
“I could order noodles?” I offered. When she didn’t answer, I turned to see her headed for the desk and her purse.
“I have a few things to pick up at the store. I’ll be back before one,” she said flatly before unlocking the library door and walking straight down the steps and out of my life.
I would count every single second until she returned.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elle
I ran a hand through my dark hair, fingers shaking as I pounded down the steps and walked across Main Street, then I turned a sharp right out of sight of the library and Maxwell’s protective gaze. I had a feeling his eyes had followed my every step. When I reached the opposite end of the block, I cut left and darted through an alley to come out on the back end of a building that faced Main Street. The same building I’d walked out of with only two duffels over my shoulder and a few thousand to my name.
The train station.
I darted up to the counter. I didn't have a choice. I had to leave now. Not only had Tony found me and would undoubtedly be up to no good if I didn’t give him money in the next week, bu
t Maxwell… I didn’t want to leave him, and I didn’t want him to get hurt in the crossfire of my corrupt family. And then he’d clearly seemed to use me. I’d seen it written all over his face and felt it in the touch of his hands last night and again less than ten minutes ago up against the stacks of books. My beast...taking me like a monster.
He couldn’t keep it caged. I had been so foolish to think I could do it for him. He’d been gentle with me that first night, his hands soft and exploring my body like sand against silk. His every touch had lit me on fire and brought me to soaring pleasure. I’d seen the world through different eyes, and sadly, I missed him already.
But apparently, he’d felt differently. Apparently he’d heard “virgin,” wanted to take it from me, use me, then leave me with angry grunts and condescending shakes of his head. I wouldn’t be under a man’s thumb; I’d been fighting my whole life to escape a father who’d used me and tossed me away. I wouldn’t allow the man I loved to make me feel that way too.
So I summoned a deep breath and stepped up to the counter at the train station and smiled weakly at the ticket agent. I chose the next city west I could get lost in. “Philadelphia, please.”
After assessing me for long moments, her dark eyes flicked down to her screen. “Didn’t I just see you in here a few weeks ago?”
I averted my gaze, nodding. “Just a quick trip.” I shuffled the purse on my shoulder.
“I thought you came in on the Boston train,” she murmured.
I stood silent, not offering her an answer. Were all people nosy in this damn town? Maybe this had been what chased Maxwell into his well-read fortress.
“Looks like the train doesn’t leave 'til eleven tonight.” A few more keystrokes then her eyes found mine.