by Ella Miles
“You’re shaking,” Sebastian says as he pulls me tight against his body.
I look down at my hands and realize that I am.
“Come on, we’re going,” Sebastian continues to drape his arm around my body, holding me tightly to him as we make our way through the bar. I can’t think. I can’t focus on anything.
When we get to his car, Sebastian doesn’t separate from me until he has me tucked into the passenger seat. Once in the driver’s seat, he takes my hand again, holding it tightly as we drive back to his condo.
“Are you really going to file a restraining order?” I ask, surprising myself when those are the first words I speak.
Sebastian parks the car in his private spot below his penthouse and then looks at me, really looks at me, like he can understand everything I’m thinking from my eyes.
I wish he could. It would be easier than having to tell him everything. I have so much to say. About the events that led to us getting married. About Oaklee. About my past.
And yet, I have no idea where to start.
Sebastian unbuckles both of our seatbelts, still not speaking. “You’re incredibly brave, you know that?”
“What?” I ask, breathlessly.
“You. Are. Brave.”
He kisses the back of my hand.
“You. Are. Strong.”
He lifts my chin and kisses one cheek.
“You. Are. Fierce.”
He kisses my other cheek.
“You. Are. An. Incredible. Wife.”
He kisses me on the lips like this is the last kiss he’ll ever get. It’s full of desperation. Or desire. Or longing for something he knows won’t last.
“Yes, I’m going to file a restraining order. I’m going to make it clear to the fucking world that you are mine. And I’ll make sure that you never have to be afraid of Trevor again.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Trevor left me speechless by getting physical. Sebastian is leaving me speechless because I didn’t realize a man could be so kind, so loving.
He grabs ahold of my hand as he pulls me into the elevator. When the doors close, I wait for him to kiss me. For his hands to roam over my body. For him to show me exactly what he has planned once we reach his condo.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” he says.
I look up at him.
“I’m planning on fucking you, dirty girl. But both of us are already on edge. I don’t want to spark any more anxiety or fear. I want to fuck you long and slow. I want to cherish you. Take my time with you. Remind you of how incredible I think you are.”
Make love to you, my mind fills in what he’s not saying.
And God, do I want that. We’ve fucked a lot in our time together, but he’s never been gentle and sweet when he’s inside me. I get the sense he wants to slow time down. He wants to worship my body. And I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening.
When the elevator opens, he lifts me up, cradling me in his arms as he kisses me so gently that if my eyes weren’t open, I wouldn’t be sure he actually kissed me. Once inside, he kicks off his shoe before carrying me straight to his bedroom, hobbling on his cast.
He lays me down on the bed. His body hovers over mine.
“You okay?” he asks, his eyes burning into my body, looking for any clue of pain that Trevor might have caused.
“He didn’t hurt me.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “The fact that you don’t realize he did hurt you means he hurt you.”
I frown but don’t have time to think before he’s kissing me. His tongue is darting into my mouth, possessing me, and controlling me.
I grab onto the neck of his shirt, holding him close to me, gripping it so tightly, afraid that he’s going to pull away. If he stops kissing me, I might speak. I might tell him about my past, about everything. And if I speak, he won’t want to keep kissing me. He’ll think the worst of me.
Sebastian lifts his head from my lips.
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
His smile shines down on me, warming me and helping me to forget the pain. He lifts his shirt off over his head, and I no longer have anything to hold onto to keep him close except his skin. So my fingers claw at his chest, begging him to keep kissing me.
He starts his kisses again, but he doesn’t kiss my lips. He kisses everywhere else, worshipping my body as he works his way down my body. He pushes my shirt up so he can access my skin.
“How did I get so lucky to have a woman like you even for a short while?” His tongue licks over the bottom of my breast and up to my nipple.
I moan in delight as he licks over my pointed tip.
“I’m not as nice and perfect as you think I am.”
“No, you’re messy as fuck,” he grins with my nipple in his mouth before biting down. “My bathroom looks like makeup and hair products have exploded everywhere.”
I open my mouth to protest and say that’s not what I meant about not being nice or perfect, but Sebastian shoves his fingers in my mouth, silencing me as his tongue lingers then traces down my stomach to just over where my jeans rest.
“Suck,” Sebastian demands.
I suck his fingers.
“You’re also a blanket hog. I never wake up with any blankets anymore. You have all of them, hiding your naked body from me.”
He removes his fingers from my mouth, and I open to tell him to give me a real critique when his fingers slip under my jeans and find my clit. His fingers swirl around, and I know I won’t be able to talk except in moans and groans until he stops.
His eyes light up; his smirk grows as he watches me be teased by his fingers.
“You’re also spontaneous to a fault—too trusting, stubborn, secretive, bold, merciless, forgiving.” He stops teasing me and grips my jeans, yanking them down before he delivers his final blow. “And none of that makes you anything but the perfect wife.”
Our eyes hold each other as I search for any part of him that doesn’t believe his statement. He believes I’m the perfect wife. Maybe because I’ve been so different than I was in other relationships? Maybe he hasn’t dealt with me long enough to realize that my spontaneous, fun, flirtatious manner can cause problems? Or maybe he truly believes it?
I look down and realize he’s naked as he settles between us. “You’re perfect, Millie. Believe that, no matter what I or any other man says.”
His words hammer through me, making me chill.
He reaches back to grab a condom, but I stop him with my hand. I’m on birth control. I don’t say it with my words, but he knows. There is a trust between us. I guess that’s what happens when you save each other’s lives. When you care about each other more than anything else.
He spreads my legs and enters slowly, like he needs to move slowly so he can remember every inch as he slides inside me. When he’s filled me, he grabs my hips and holds me close before his lips land on mine again, kissing me tenderly as he rocks into me.
Every thrust, kiss, touch is all saying the same thing. The one thing we are both too scared to say—I love you.
Those are words we will never say. Because if we do, we’d have to stop pretending. Those words would make this real. And despite the feeling being true, love isn’t enough. It’s not enough for him to no longer be an addict, or to become spontaneous enough for a life with me.
And I’m too out of control, too purposeless, too me to ever be with him for real. Not to mention my past or how we came together.
So I cherish every moment as he thrusts in and out, knowing it might be the only time I’m ever truly loved like this.
Our orgasms come too fast. We explode, our love dancing around the room, but still never spoken.
Sebastian pulls out and then wraps his arms and legs around me, holding me tight against his chest, not even giving me a moment to clean myself off.
“I’m not good for you, Millie. You deserve better,” Sebastian whispers, telling me why he can’t be with me.
“I’m no good fo
r you either,” I whisper back.
33
Sebastian
That night changed things.
I no longer struggle to remember to call Millie my wife. I think about her constantly—at work, at home, in the shower—everywhere.
And my most important task has been protecting her.
I got the restraining order against her ex filed the next day. Because of who I know and how much money I have, that was easy.
I hired a private investigator to keep an eye on him and make sure he wouldn’t be coming for Millie.
And I hired a security guard to protect her whenever she leaves the condo. Not that she’s super happy with that or finds it necessary, but my private investigator found a prior domestic abuse call on Trevor’s record. A fact that I’ll keep to myself. I don’t want to worry her more than necessary. She said he never hurt her, but that doesn’t mean he won’t to get her back.
I lean down and kiss Millie on the cheek. She rolls over and groans. “I should get up.”
I laugh. “It’s seven in the morning. You went to sleep like two hours ago. You should sleep, I’ll see you when I get off work.”
She grabs my shirt and pulls me back to her. “Or you could stay.” She kisses me with everything she has, which is surprisingly a lot for being completely asleep.
I laugh and pull myself away from her. “I have to go to work. And you need your sleep so I can enjoy you when I get back.”
“You can enjoy me now.”
So tempting.
“I can’t. I have to go to work. Are you working tonight?” I ask. Millie got a job at an emergency response call center this week, which has severely reduced our time together. It only makes every moment that much more fleeting. And her security guard that much more important.
She sighs. “Yes.”
“See you for dinner before you go?”
“Am I dinner?” She bats her eyelashes at me.
“Definitely.” I pull her bottom lip into my mouth and kiss her harder than I intended to. Now she’s starting to wake up fully.
“Go back to sleep, my beautiful wife.”
She smiles with her eyes closed, pulling her sheets up higher around her neck. It takes everything I have to walk away from her and go to work—five more months. I have five more months to enjoy every second with her.
I need to find a way to convince her to quit her job, and I need to cut back at work so we can spend all of that time together. Because I don’t have the strength to keep walking away from her like this.
34
Millie
“Sebastian?” I ask as I creek the door open to his condo.
No answer.
I exhale a breath as I push the door all the way open. We have three months left until we decided to stop pretending we are married and file for divorce. But if Sebastian sees what I’m carrying in this box, he might decide to call it quits early.
A small whimper comes from the box as I flip the lid up. A ball of brown fluff jumps up and licks me in the face.
“You’re lucky Sebastian isn’t here, or we might already be kicked to the curb.” I bob the first of the five puppies on the nose as I carry them into the kitchen.
“Where should I put the dog supplies?” Andrew, my security guard asks.
“In the kitchen. Thanks, Andrew.”
He puts the bag of supplies on the counter. “Are you all set for the rest of the day?”
“Yep.”
“See you tomorrow, then.”
I nod with a small sigh. Trevor hasn’t bothered, texted, or called in two months. I don’t know why I still need a security guard to follow me around everywhere.
I set the box of puppies down the floor, and they all start crying, trying to get out of the box. I tilt it and let them out and do my best to corral them in the tiled kitchen by moving some dining chairs and the trash can.
“Stay in the kitchen, guys. I know you’re hungry. I’ll feed you.” I start digging through the bag of dog food and bowls I got from the shelter. I mix the food with some supplemental formula the volunteers gave me. They said the puppies could eat solid food now, but that it might help to give them some formula since they don’t know their exact age or how long they’ve gone without their mother’s milk.
“Alright, everyone, dinner’s ready.” I set the bowl down and wait…
One, two, three…I’m missing two.
“Looking for this?” Sebastian asks, holding up one of the puppies with a stern look on his face.
I wince and try my best cute guilty face as I reach out for the puppy in his arms.
“I didn’t realize you were home,” I say as the puppy nibbles on my chin.
He looks to the furball in my arms. “Obviously.”
“So, you aren’t a fan of dogs?”
“It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I have enough people to take care of in my life; I don’t need more to take care of. And I particularly don’t care for untrained little beasts that will pee on everything and destroy my furniture.”
I hold up the puppy. “This little guy won’t destroy your furniture, will you?” He licks my nose, and I smile before turning to Sebastian. “See? He agrees.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “Where did you get the puppies?”
“A volunteer at the shelter called me.”
“And why would a volunteer from a shelter call you?”
“Because I’ve fostered stray dogs and cats before, so when they can’t find a home for them, they call me. The puppies will get adopted easily, but they need a little special care until they fatten up a little. They are malnourished after being away from their mother and need to be eating solid food before they can be adopted.”
“How long?” His voice is stern, but he’s not that pissed at me. He’s just trying to hold onto his control. This isn’t the first time in the last three months that I’ve pushed him out of his comfort zone.
“Two weeks.”
He sighs. “Just keep them in the kitchen, that way we can minimize the damage.”
“Um…about that…” I spot the last missing puppy peeing on the rug behind him in the living room.
Sebastian follows my gaze to catch the puppy in the act. He goes to pick up the runt. I expect Sebastian to scold him, but instead, he lets the pup lick his face before lowering him over the temporary barrier I set up to keep them in the kitchen. Then Sebastian digs into my bag of supplies, which mostly just consists of dog food, formula, and bowls.
“There’s a pet store two blocks from here. I’ll walk there and see if they have some puppy gates and pee pads.”
“You’re the best, hubby.” I smile brightly, hoping it will earn me a smile before he leaves. Instead, I get a grumpy grimace.
“You’re lucky I like you, wifey.”
I smile at his comment before going back to taking care of the puppies. “You guys better behave, so he doesn’t try to kick you out.”
When Sebastian returns thirty minutes later with not only a gate and pee pads but dog toys and adorable little collars, he obviously isn’t upset they are here. He looks at them the same way he looks at me—with adoration and love. Maybe my spontaneousness is rubbing off on him after all?
That is until the next morning when we wake up to five very naughty puppies. But even then, he helped clean up the mess and snuggled with me and one of the pups on the couch afterward. And as I lie resting my head on his chest, I have to remember—this isn’t real, and I only have three more months left.
35
Sebastian
“It must feel good to have the cast off. I know you weren’t expecting to have it on this long, but I’m glad we waited the extra time to ensure it healed properly,” the doctor says as he removes my cast.
“Uh, yea, feels great,” I say because that’s what I’m supposed to say. But in fact, it feels horrible. Of course, I want the cast off, but it means I only have weeks left until the six-month time limit is up. Until we are to stage a fight. Until we are su
pposed to file for divorce.
Trevor hasn’t been bothering Millie. In fact, he seems to have moved on and is dating another woman in his office. Millie is safe.
We’ve been married long enough that it won’t be embarrassing when we break it off, but not too long that our friends won’t encourage us to fight to stay together.
Oaklee probably already knows the truth about our relationship.
Larkyn suspects.
Kade thinks I should have already divorced her.
Boden is an idiot who I haven’t spoken to in months.
There is no reason we need to keep the act up. No outside reason to stay together.
Except, my own heart. My own addiction to her.
I thought these six-months would move slowly. I thought her spontaneous and adventurous spirit would drive me mad with the need to control everything. Instead, it’s brought me new life and focus on only controlling the important things in my life that keep me from turning back to drugs or alcohol.
“So you’re a newlywed. That’s exciting. How is married life?”
I should say it’s horrible. She’s controlling or she’s messy or we bicker a lot, something to start the process of acting like there is trouble in our marriage. The last few weeks I’ve been trying to drop hints at work. Trying to say little things that bug me to Larkyn.
But every time I start to complain, somehow it comes out as a compliment. Somehow it makes it seem like we are more in love than ever. Every time I try to say how awful it is, it backfires. In the five months we’ve been together, we haven’t had one real fight.
So instead of pretending our marriage is horrible, I just say, “It’s great.”
“Good, you’re all set,” the doctor says.
I hop off the table and put weight on my ankle for the first time now free of a cast. I’m thankful to have complete freedom during my last few weeks left with Millie.
When I get back to my penthouse, I don’t expect Millie to be here. She’s been working a lot in the evenings, and my appointment wasn’t until after I got off work.