Milo
“A rolling pin I can handle. Good thing it wasn’t a bloody dildo this time.” Arlo says from beside me.
“I’m not even going to ask,” Isaak says. “Because whatever that means, I already know it’s something I don’t want to understand, and frankly couldn’t give less of a damn about.”
“What the actual hell are you doing here?” my gorgeous girl shrieks.
I take her in.
Fuck, how I have missed her. It has been nine hours and fifty three minutes.
My obsession stands in front of me with one boot still on and the other discarded somewhere near my feet, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Her hat sits crooked on her head.
She looks furious.
She looks perfect.
She looks mine.
I kick my boots off, snow dusting the entryway, and shrug out of my jacket.
I step forward. “What are you doing here, psycho?” my girl asks, tugging off her jacket as she takes a cautious step back, watching me advance.
“You thought you could run off and I wouldn’t follow? You wound me, spitfire.”
She opens her mouth, clearly ready to lash out again, but I close the remaining distance between us and sling her over my shoulder.
“Let me know which room is ours, baby,” I say, already heading for the stairs.
“Fucking hell, you are not sleeping in my room, you psycho. Get lost, or I swear I’ll kill you in your sleep.”
“Ah, that’s your love language, isn’t it? You do know how hard you make me when you get filthy.”
“You disgust me,” she says, without any real heat.
“Say it like you mean it, gorgeous.”
I reach the top of the stairs and pause, glancing down the hallway.
“Baby,” I murmur, tightening my grip on her thighs, “tell me which room is ours, or I start checking every single one of them.”
“Even if you checked every room, how would you know?” she hisses, twisting to pinch me hard, and I grin like an idiot because I am enjoying this well beyond reason.
“I’ll know,” I say calmly. “Your room will be filled with your scent. That damned hint of vanilla.”
I pause for a moment. “I bought the perfume you wear. I spray it on myself, on my room, even on my pillow, because it’s the closest thing to having you where you belong.”
My hold tightens slightly. “It doesn’t work the same without your skin tangled into it, but it keeps me from taking what I want and tying you to my bed every single night. For now.”
“You’re deranged.”
“Yes,” I agree mildly. “That’s hardly news.”
She exhales, irritated. “Second on the right.”
“See?” I say, a pleased smile touches my lips. “That wasn’t difficult.”
I head straight for it, shove the door open with my foot, step inside, and shut it behind us before setting her back on her feet.
My smile doesn’t fade.
I was right.
I take a deep breath in.
She spins around in an instant, arms crossed tight over her chest, fury set into every line of her gorgeous face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps. “Your psychotic behaviour is showing, and your stalking tendencies along with it. Frankly, it’s rather disturbing.”
I take a step forward.
She takes one back.
We continue like this until her spine hits the wall, and she gasps softly, as though she hadn’t fully realised how far she’d moved back.
“I came for you,” I say simply. “You can’t get rid of me, gorgeous.”
I bend down, brushing my nose along her cheek, then lower, along the side of her neck, biting lightly, caging her in with both palms against the wall.
I feel her inhale, feel the moment her composure breaks, her control slipping away despite herself.
I fucking love it, that I can undo her with so little, that the smallest touch has this effect on her.
It tells me everything. She isn’t nearly as immune to me as she wants to believe.
“Wherever you go, I follow,” I murmur. “You want to know why?”
“Why?” she whispers.
I look straight into her beautiful green eyes. I bump my nose against hers, then press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Because you’re mine,” I growl. “For life.”