29. Michael
Michael
My phone vibrates against the bar, and I glance down at my watch as I reach for it. It’s only eleven, so it can’t be Katie. She doesn’t get off until one. The screen lights up with Luca’s name.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
“There was a guy at the bar tonight,” Luca says. “Messed with Katie.”
My jaw locks. “Where is she?”
“She’s in the backseat with Sarah. I’m taking her home.”
“I’m on my way.” I’m already moving. “You get the guy’s name?”
“No. The security guard had already kicked him out before I knew what happened.”
I exhale. “You’re slipping, Luca.”
I end the call before he can say anything else. My fingers are already dialing Marco. He answers on the second ring, voice rough with sleep.
“Boss?”
“Get the car. We’re headed back. Meet me in front.”
There’s a beat, then movement on his end, the sound of sheets shifting, something being knocked out of place.
“Yes, Boss.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m in the passenger seat, the city sliding past. My hands flex against my thighs, tension building with nowhere to go. I pull out my phone and call her.
“Hi,” she says, her voice too bright. I know she’s forcing it.
“Doll, are you okay?”
“Did Luca call you?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, my voice tightening. “Now answer my question.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“I’m headed to you,” I say.
“Michael, you don’t have to do that. Santa Barbara is two hours away.”
“Doll, I’m coming whether you like it or not,” I say, softer now.
She’s quiet for a second.
Then, barely above a breath, “I want you to.”
It’s past one when Marco drops me off. I tell him to head back to the estate, to handle my meetings tomorrow, that I’ll call him in the morning. He doesn’t say anything, but the look he gives me sticks for a second before he pulls away. He doesn’t know who his boss is anymore.
By the time I reach her door, it’s already opening. She’s in pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt, her curls piled on top of her head. She smiles when she sees me. I don’t stop. I step into her space and pull her into my arms. She leans into me.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she says.
I slide my arm under her legs and lift her. She gasps, her arms coming up around my neck. My other hand settles at her back as I carry her inside, locking the door behind me.
I don’t stop until I get to her room, the door shutting behind us. I set her down on the bed, her body easing into the mattress. She smiles up at me as I pull off my shirt and step out of my pants. My boxers stay on, the fabric tight around my hardening cock.
I climb on top of her, the bed shifting under me. My hand goes to the back of her neck, holding her there as I lean in close, our breaths mixing.
“Just couldn’t stay away, could you?” she says, her blue eyes staring right into mine.
I don’t say anything. My mouth presses down on hers.
She sighs against me. I lower my body onto hers, my chest against her breasts, my cock straining against the boxers, rubbing against her leg through her sleep shorts.
Her hands move up and down my back, nails scratching lightly, pulling me in tighter.
She shifts her hips, pressing up against the bulge in my boxers, making me groan into her mouth.
She turns her head to the side, breaking our kiss with a soft gasp.
“Soon,” she murmurs, her voice husky. “I promise.”
Before I can pull her back, she’s rolling out from under me, her body slipping away. I huff out a frustrated laugh and flop onto my back, staring at the ceiling as my cock throbs, still rock-hard, aching for release. I turn my head, and she’s on her side staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I look back up at the ceiling and close my eyes.
Get your shit together, Michael.
I turn on my side to face her. Our faces are only inches apart. Her eyes are wide and conflicted in the dim light.
“It’s okay. I can wait.”
“I want to,” she says, her fingers twitching against the pillow as if fighting the urge to reach for me.
“Then what’s stopping you?”
She bites her lip, the flesh turning white under her teeth, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from pulling her mouth to mine.
“Michael, I’m not the kind of girl to just sleep with a man she’s known less than a week.”
I reach out, my thumb brushing gently over her lower lip, freeing it from her teeth.
“Katie, I get it.” I murmur. My hand slides to cup her cheek, feeling the heat there. “But damn, being this close to you, it’s torture.”
She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering half-closed. My free hand moves to her waist, fingers splaying over the soft skin there, pulling her a fraction closer.
“I know it’s fast,” she whispers, her breath fanning my neck as she nuzzles in. “But every time you touch me, I forget why I should wait.”
Her hand trails down my arm, the light graze of her fingers igniting sparks that shoot straight to my groin, my cock twitching under the sheets. She pauses at my hip, her palm hovering there.
“Before I completely lose control here,” I murmur, my voice rough with the effort to hold back, “tell me about this fucker at the bar.”
“It was nothing,” she whispers, her gaze dropping away from mine. She stares at the shadowed curve of my shoulder instead.
“Don’t lie to me, Katie.” I reach up, tilting her face until her eyes lock onto mine.
She swallows, her throat working under my thumb. “He grabbed me. When I told him to let go, he didn’t. He pinned me.”
“I’ll fucking kill him,” I growl, the promise slipping out before I can cage it.
Her breath catches, eyes widening as she searches my face, a mix of shock and trust or fear of what I might become for her. She doesn’t pull away; instead, her hand presses flat against my hip now.
“Michael,” she breathes, her voice trembling but leaning into my touch. Her free hand comes up to cover mine on her chin, guiding it down to her neck where her pulse races wild under my fingertips. “You’re scaring me. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
I don’t promise shit. Not when the image of that bastard’s hands on her skin burns in my mind. Instead, I slide my hand to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer until our foreheads touch.
“I’m sorry I scared you, but no one ‘s going to lay a hand on you and get away with it,” I say instead, the words vibrating between us, laced with the possession I’ve felt since the first day I saw her.
She exhales shakily.
“Michael, I know you care about me, but it will be okay. Rick kicked him out. He’s not allowed to come back.”
Caring doesn’t cover it, but I don’t say anything. I nod against her, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, and shift us so she’s tucked against my chest. Her leg slips over mine in a tangle that’s innocent and torturous all at once.
“Sleep,” I tell her, my hand stroking down her back. “I’ve got you.”
She relaxes into me, her breathing evening out, but I lie awake, mind racing.