12. Killian
My steps came to a halt at the initial step that led up to Millie’s brownstone. Blowing out a breath through parted lips, I took the moment to study the front door. I knew every detail of it, thanks to the hidden camera I had installed across the street. It was fucking surreal to be in the exact spot where I fantasized about standing too many times to count. Of me knocking on the door, her leaping into my open arms, and me having the courage to explain. Everything.
From the moment Dad fucking kidnapped me back to DC, to my time with the CIA, almost dying, then landing in the Behavioral Science Unit division of the FBI.
And never forgetting her for a second.
What I felt for Millie was beyond the everyday love. She was my obsession, my rock, my everything. Every damn second, day and night, she was on my mind, beneath my skin, and burrowed in my heart. Ever since I sat beside her in class, she’d never left me, even when we were apart.
I didn’t tell her the depth of how I felt on our last night together before my soul was ripped in two. I should’ve expected it, but I was too hopeful for a normal life that I never saw my father coming. The night before graduation, he found out that I planned to leave everything behind for her.
I knew he was driven; I just didn’t realize the lengths he’d go to protect his prized project. A deadly combination of an assassin and con artist, perfect for immediate acceptance into the CIA. Since he himself was a retired asset who shifted to a senior position within the agency, it meant I had no voice.
Or an option to live the life I actually wanted.
No hope of a future outside of being who my father groomed me to be. And no one cared or noticed that my life was a sham—a normal, happy-go-lucky guy to those around me, but behind closed doors, a killer whose training never stopped. I spent months convincing Dad of the benefits of my attending college, on campus, for undergrad. A dirty deal with the devil, but for four years, the leash slowly suffocating me loosened.
Then Millie happened.
“Hey, Killian, are you coming inside?” Millie’s concerned tone shut down the dark, spiraling thoughts that could pull me under for hours, if not days. I shook my head, internally chastising myself for dropping my guard, putting her safety at risk. After a quick glance up and down the street, I hitched my chin her way after finding the streets clear. With a bemused smirk, she pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside.
Lungs filling with a deep, calming breath, I climbed the stairs and stepped over the threshold. Millie held the door open wide enough for me to pass through without rubbing against her, but I did anyway. Just a brush of my arm against her had my cock swelling. Fuck, what would it be like to finally feel that soft skin again, to have her naked beneath me, to do as I pleased?
Inside, I stopped in the entry to take in the parts of the townhome I hadn’t seen. A cozy living room was on the right. A couch and two chairs faced an unlit gas fireplace. The large street-facing bay window filled the room with natural light. A smile pulled at the corners of my lips as I took in the floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves lining one wall, stuffed full of books.
My boots spun on the polished mahogany hardwood floor as I took in the rest of the townhome. The formal dining room was on the opposite side of the picture-perfect living room. I arched a brow, shooting Millie a questioning expression, while my head angled toward the six dining chairs that looked out of place without a table.
She sighed while stripping out of her coat and hanging it on an antique coat rack. “My ex took the table, amongst other things,” she muttered. “As observant as you are, I’m sure you’ll notice the other random items missing around here.”
“Like what?”
She pointed to the couch. “You can’t see it from here, but he removed the cushions but left the couch. In the kitchen, he took all the handheld appliances, including the can opener, but left all the canned food.”
My fingers curled into tight fists at my side. “What the fuck? Who does that, and why the hell did you marry that asshole in the first place?”
Both dark brown brows flew up over her forehead. “How did you know I was married?”
Well, fuck a cactus. She can’t know about my… consistent following. That terminology sounded way classier, and less illegal, than stalking.
“You divided up assets. That screams divorce. And based on what he took, it doesn’t sound amicable.” I shrugged like stress-sweat wasn’t slicking my spine. “Is the kitchen through there?” I pointed to the set of swinging doors that led toward the back of the townhome through the dining room. “I need something to eat. I’m starving.”
Her mouth opened, then snapped closed. “Yeah, it is, but… didn’t you eat on the plane?” she asked, a hint of humor in her tone. “Follow me.” Instead of immediately following her, I stepped back to the front door and locked it up tight.
“Snacks,” I said after catching up. “I had snacks on the plane, not an actual meal. Millie, why did you leave the front door unlocked?”
She glanced over her shoulder, brows furrowed as she reached into the pantry. “I don’t know. Didn’t really think about it with you here. Strange.” Her lips pinched together. “When I’m here alone, I lock up the second I’m through the door.” Pride swelled in my chest. She didn’t think about it because she knew I’d keep her safe, no matter what.
Turning, she held out both full hands, a package of peanut butter crackers in one and some kind of Nutella to-go snack cup in the other.
Not able to decide, I grabbed both.
“Didn’t expect you to go for Nutella,” I remarked while studying the package.
It was like I could feel her defenses rising with my dumb comment. Damnit, and things were finally not tense between us.
“A lot of things have changed since we last saw each other.”
Leaning a hip against the center island, I dropped the food onto the dark brown granite counter, my growling stomach forgotten. “Do you ever think about it?”
“Think about what?” she rasped, hand coming up to gently grasp her throat.
I swallowed the groan that wanted to escape. Fuck, I wanted that to be my hand on her throat, my skin against hers.
“The last night we saw each other.” The night I finally took the leap and gave in to the all-consuming need for her that only grew after I had her. Once wasn’t enough with Millie; nothing would ever be enough. With my greedy personality, I’d always want more of her, consume everything she would willingly give, and I’d still beg for more.
Her long dark lashes fanned up and down with slow blinks, but to her credit, she didn’t look away as a blush bloomed on her cheeks.
“Nope.”
Lie.
What a terrible, pretty liar.
Squeezing her lids closed, she whirled around, putting her back to me. “I’ve moved on, just like you have.” That last part was a low grumble under her breath. “You’ve got your snack, and I’m all set here.” Her dark strands fanned out as she spun to face me. “I’ll meet you and Hunter at the hotel Sunday night before our flight?—”
“That’s not how this is going to work. I think you’ve forgotten an important part of this assignment.” I stepped around the island, which she matched, keeping the distance between us.
“And what’s that?”
I sent a pointed glance at the massive ring on her finger and dared another step. “You’re my wife.”
That pretty pink tongue slid along her lower lip. Fucking hell, she was killing me. Death by blue balls. Bet it wouldn’t be the first time. I’d have to ask our team’s resident medical examiner, Rain.
“I’m not your wife yet. And even then, it’s fake. This isn’t real.”
“Well, considering our lives depend on us playing the part, I think we need to practice, in my official FBI behavioral analyst opinion.”
Her back sealed to the double oven, preventing her from retreating further. “What do you— What? Practice?”
Cheeks pink, lids hooded, pupils blown wide.
Oh, my Millie’s body knew exactly who it belonged to. I just had to convince the rest of her that this between us would happen.
I nodded, stopping directly in front of her much shorter frame. Our height difference meant I had to lean down to inhale her unique scent that reminded me of home. My lids fluttered closed as my chest constricted. “Fucking hell, you still smell so damn good.”
“It’s just shampoo,” she whispered, eyes flicking between mine. “What are you doing, Killian?” Her chest rose and fell with every heaving breath.
“Me? I’m losing control, unraveling,” I rasped. “Like I always do when you’re around.”
“Stop,” she pleaded, the word more of a pushed breath. “Please stop.” Her palm pressed to the center of my chest. Reluctantly, I took a single step back to give her the space she clearly wanted. “We can’t. No, I can’t act on this,” she motioned between us, “whatever this is between us, and act like the vanishing act you pulled or the fact you’ve been radio silent for the last ten years didn’t hurt me like it did. You left me and never came back.”
I felt my lips curl into a cocky smile, focusing on the one positive. “So you admit there is a this between us.” Slowly raising my hand, giving her the opportunity to stop me, I sealed my palm to her cheek. Those dark lashes fluttered closed as she sucked in a shuddering breath. I closed the space between us, thumb stroking along her cheekbone reassuringly. “I’ll tell you everything, Millie. Everything. Just give me a chance to explain what happened and why?—”
“It’s too late,” she whispered, lids still squeezed shut.
“Bullshit,” I barked. The loud sound popped both her eyes wide open. “It’s never too late for something like this, what we have. You feel it, too. I know you do.”
“Had,” she sighed. “What we had.”
Pieces of my long hair fell around my face with the sharp headshake. “No. It’s not over. We’re not done.”
“It’s not that easy. You can’t just say?—”
“Sure it is. All you have to do is give me a chance; let yourself fall, knowing I’m not going anywhere.” The tip of my nose brushed against hers as I leaned down, desperate to erase the gap between us. “Let yourself trust me again.”
For several seconds, she stared up at me in silence. I didn’t move, hardly breathed, too afraid of shattering the moment and losing her all over again. Her lips parted, ready to give me an answer to the question burning me alive inside, but a violent, insistent pounding on the front door broke the moment.
Between heartbeats, a gun was clasped in my firm grip, and my larger frame was positioned between her and the perceived danger.
“Are you expecting anyone?” I asked calmly over my shoulder.
“Um, not that I’m aware of. Is the gun really necessary?”
I shot her an incredulous look and started toward the noise that grew more frantic.
“A gun is always necessary.”
She tugged on the back of my shirt. “Do I get one, then?”
I stopped short, making her run into me from how close she followed. Millie rubbed at her tiny little button nose, scowling like I meant to hurt her.
“Do you know how to shoot?” She shook her head. “Ever even held one before?” Millie scrunched her nose and again shook her head. “Oh, then, yeah, of course, you can have a gun.”
“Really?” she said, perking up.
“No,” I deadpanned and turned, focusing back on eliminating whoever was on the other side of the fucking door. Not only was the noise making me twitchy, but whoever was there interrupted Millie’s response.
The response I’d give my left, and maybe right, nut to hear.
The gun’s rough grip bit into my palm with my firm hold. Flipping locks with more force than needed, I twisted the brass knob and yanked the solid wood door open. The barrel of my gun was aimed between the fucker’s brows before he even realized he was in imminent danger. Hand still raised to keep knocking, the deep scowl on his ugly mug melted into confusion before turning white, all the blood draining from his face.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growled, not dropping my weapon until I knew if he was friend or foe. Who the hell was I kidding? It was an unknown male banging on Millie’s door. He sure as fuck was the enemy.
“Jeremy?” My muscles bunched at Millie’s close voice. Her cute little legs tried to step around me, but I shifted, blocking her path. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Killian.” The exasperation in her voice quelled a little of the bubbling anger. “Jeremy isn’t a threat. He’s my teaching assistant.”
I slowly lowered my weapon and gave the fucktard an unimpressed once over. “This guy? The wannabe American Eagle influencer?” I cocked my head to the side with a patronizing smile. “You sure he’s old enough to work? Child labor laws are?—”
“I’m fucking twenty-six,” the Jeremy guy snapped, finding his backbone now that there wasn’t a gun pointed between his eyes.
Unimpressed look fixed on him, I raised a palm. “Thought you’d want a high-five or something.” I dropped the hand and crossed both arms over my chest, still hanging on to the gun just in case he made a move I didn’t approve. Like looking at Millie, moving close to Millie, thinking about Millie, saying her name….
Huh. Maybe I’d been around psychopaths too long because the thought of murdering this asshat didn’t bother me as much as it should.
“What are you doing here, Jeremy?” Millie sighed. The strain of her voice snagged my attention away from the numb-nut. Her brows were pulled in as she circled two fingertips against both temples.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s a migraine, obviously. She gets them when she’s stressed. How did you not know that about her?”
I shot a deathly glare at the Jeremy fucker, which wiped the smirk off his face before turning back to Millie. “Is there something I can get you? Want me to kill him since he’s the one causing you to be so stressed?” Obviously, it wasn’t me. He was the problem here. A muttered what the fuck sounded from the idiot at my back. “Would that make you feel better, baby?”
“Baby?” he exclaimed. “Millie, who is this crazy-ass man? I should call the police?—”
Hand fisting the popped collar of his preppy-ass polo, I hauled him into the townhouse, slammed the door closed, and shoved his back against it. The rattle of the door hinges brought a smile to my face. His shock-filled, wide eyes pleaded with Millie, which just pissed me off more.
“Don’t fucking look at her.” Tightening my grip, I lifted him off the floor; the toes of his loafers scraped against the hardwood, trying to find traction. “And why the hell would you throw out that kind of threat? Haven’t you learned when dealing with an unstable person, you try to keep them calm, not instigate them further?”
“You’re not unstable,” Millie stated, tone tight. “Well, I take that back. You might be based on the current situation. Can you please drop him?”
“You are not calling the cops,” I snarled. “Everything was just fucking fine until you showed up. I was just protecting my wife and her home from the threat I assumed was beating on her door. For all I knew, before opening the door, you were the unstable one forcefully attempting to enter her house.”
The idiot slow blinked. With an exasperated sigh, I glanced over my shoulder at Millie, who attempted to hide a grin behind her tiny hand. Fuck, that big rock looked good on her ring finger.
“He’s not that bright, is he? It’s like he can’t even keep up with this conversation we’re having.”
“Pretty sure no one can keep up with this conversation but you,” she huffed.
I narrowed my eyes. “You did.”
She shrugged and nodded, confirming my assumption. “He was the best option for the teaching assistant role out of the few decent applicants.”
“See,” the idiot said, making me roll my eyes and turn back to him.
“That’s not the compliment you think it is, sweet, sweet child.” With a smirk, I released my hold without warning. He stumbled to the side, attempting to find his footing, while I stepped to Millie’s side and draped an arm over her slim shoulders, having to bend at the knees a little to reach her fairy-like stature. A genuine smile bunched my cheeks as I gazed down at her. “So, that later-in-life growth spurt you wished for didn’t happen, I see.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Millie huffed, crossing both arms across her chest. Which only drew attention to her fantastic tits in her fitted sweater. “You were the one who suggested I make that ridiculous wish list.”
“How else was I supposed to uncover the deep, dark wishes you had buried in that mind of yours?”
“Wait, did he say wife?”
I rolled my eyes. “See, not bright at all. There had to be better applicants than him, Millie.”
“Millie, what the actual fuck?—”
“It’s Dr. Anderson,” she practically hissed, shoulders tensing beneath my arm.
“But Millie?—”
“Dr. Anderson,” Millie and I snapped in unison.
I fluttered my lashes down at my beautiful pretend wife. “Aww, look, we’re already finishing each other’s sentences.”
Millie ignored me and blew out a loud, slow breath. “Listen, Jeremy, I appreciate you coming to check on me. The sudden request off was very unlike me. However, as you can see, everything is fine. I just need you to cover my classes for the week after spring break.”
“Extended honeymoon,” I added, twirling a lock of hair around my middle finger. “The first week is for all fun, the second for recovery. Hopefully, by the time she returns, she’ll be able to walk straight and?—”
Millie’s tight fist connected with my stomach, exploding the air from my lungs with the unexpected blow.
“It’s none of his business why I need that week off,” she snapped. “And will you please stop pretending this marriage thing is real?” Her words more of a whispered hiss so the jackass couldn’t hear.
I shifted, putting myself between her and the asshat. A gentle tug had her body sealed to mine. A smile curved my lips, feeling her full-body shiver. Leaning down, I brushed my lips against her ear.
“From the moment you accepted the case until we’re on the plane back to Dallas with Karigan in the seat beside us, I am your husband. For better or for worse and all that, babycakes, you’re mine.” Her chest rose and fell in quick succession, her wide eyes gazing up in wonder. “You like that idea, don’t you?” I whispered. “Of me at your side, ready and willing for you to use anytime you want me.”
“But I hate you,” she murmured, fingers gripping at the center of my T-shirt. The feel of her nails scraping against my stomach through the soft cotton made my cock swell even thicker. The reaction was odd yet welcomed, considering I usually have to fight the urge to kill the person touching me, not my body pulsing with the need for more.
“If you hate me, then we’re playing the average married couple,” I joked, even though hearing her say those words was like a knife penetrating my bruised and tender heart. “And don’t knock hate fucking until you’ve tried it, babycakes.”
Her breath hitched. Leaning back, I locked my heated gaze with hers. Her tongue darted out and licked along her lower lip before she bit down, teeth sinking into the plump flesh. Heat filled my veins, and my dick strained against my jean’s zipper.
Fucking hell, I needed her. Wanted to see and feel every inch of her beautiful body. The past twenty-four hours of having her close yet unable to act on the desires pulsing through me was hell. A hate fuck wasn’t what I wanted, but I’d pounce on any opportunity to worship Millie.
Without breaking her lust-filled stare, I shouted over my shoulder. “Meet and greet is over. Get the fuck out of here. As you can see, Dr. Anderson is fine, and you’ll do what she asked and only that.” Turning, I found him glaring with both hands curled into fists at his side. “Get over the delusional fantasy that there is anything between you and my wife. She’s fucking mine.”
“Fuck you. She’s not yours.”
“Oh, shit,” Millie muttered as I whirled to the soon-to-be-dead man.
In two short strides, I was back in front of him, his polo bunched beneath my fist as I hauled him off the door while the other palm wrapped around the doorknob and pulled.
“I’m playing nice because I don’t want her to witness just how dark my unique abilities run, but know this. If I hear that you’ve approached her for anything non-school related or hassled her about turning your professional relationship into more, I will make you disappear, and it won’t be fun. For you, that is. For me, well, let’s just say a twisted part of me would find joy in your painful expiration.”
Without warning, I shoved him onto the front stoop and released my hold. Unable to find his footing, he stumbled down a single step, collapsed, and rolled down, ending in a motionless blob on the sidewalk. Dramatically dusting off my hands, I waited a moment, ensuring he wasn’t dead before slamming the door closed and turning my full focus on Millie.
“Now,” I hummed, the anger and tension from dealing with the fool melting into boiling passionate desire. “Where were we, wife?”
I needed her more than the next breath in my lungs.
Wanted to feel her bare skin against mine, reminding me of that amazing night we had together.
Maybe then I’d remember what it was like to actually feel.
Something that hadn’t happened in ten long fucking years.