Chapter 44
Millie
Hyde’s visit helped me make a decision I’ve already been considering. I don’t owe him anything, but I’d be lying if I said I wanted to hurt him. And having me here is obviously hurting him.
So on Thursday night, I sit in my room, a stack of transfer papers scattered across my bed. I hate that I’m running away, but what else am I supposed to do?
Pretend they don’t exist, or pretend I’m not slowly dying inside every time I enter the gym or pass a classroom where Creed made me feel giddy with his kisses?
My eyes glaze over the admission papers for a Florida college. I’ve printed out papers for ten others, all located along the East Coast, far away from here.
There’s a knock on the door when I’m halfway through, a stack of ready-to-mail applications on my bedside table, the rest still on my bed. I glance at the clock, swearing under my breath. I promised Noah we’d play chess tonight.
“Come in!” I yell, scrambling off the bed, frantically gathering papers and stuffing them into my closet. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I say when the door opens before I’m done. “I completely lost track of time!”
I slam the closet shut and turn my head. Instead of Noah, I find Creed, three feet away, wet as a dog. Water drips from his hair, his hoodie drenched.
My breath catches and stomach drops when I spot a sheet of paper in his hand.
“You’re leaving?” he asks.
He looks worse than Hyde. The bruises under his eyes are almost purple, but when he steps closer, he smells so good my knees nearly give out.
“Why are you leaving?”
I can’t help but scoff, and my dumbstruck awe morphs into anger. He disappears for days after breaking my heart, and now he’s back demanding explanations? God, what was I expecting?
That he’d apologize?
“Get out, Creed.” I shove him away, my blood growing hot. I take a step back, flush against the closet door.
“Don’t even think about transferring out,” he seethes, his chest brushing mine. “You run, I chase, baby. And when I promise I’ll fucking catch you, I will catch you.”
“Why would I stay?! My brother doesn’t want me, you not only don’t want me but moved on already. Why would I—?”
“You think I don’t want you?” he grits out, caging me in. “You’re all I want.”
“For how long?!” I snap, shoving him back, close to tears. “You always do this! You want me, then you don’t. You let me in, then you push me away. You never want me the way I want you and I’m tired, Eli. I’m tired of crying, tired of choosing you and hoping you’ll choose me back!”
“I know, I know.” I feel the tremble in his thumb against my chin as he tilts my face toward his. “That ends now, I promise. I promise. I want you, Millie. I wake up every morning wanting you so fucking much it feels like I’m going insane.”
I want to believe him, but his words never match his actions, and my head’s full of his mouth on Flora and how easily hurting me came to him.
“That’s why you kissed that girl?” I ask, blinking back frustrated tears. “Because you want me?”
“Because you were clinging to Noah!” he booms, the sound vibrating through my ribs. “You were in his arms, Millie.”
“He’s just a friend! I never—”
“A friend you kissed.”
My lips fall open on an outraged O. “I didn’t!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He slams his fist against the closet, hard enough to rattle the hangers inside. He drags in a shaky breath. “You kissed him.”
“I didn’t kiss him. He just held me.”
“And what happened in the library, baby?” he taunts, getting so close his lips brush against mine. “What the fuck was that?”
Oh... that kiss. Shit. I didn’t want Creed to know about that stupid, confusing, desperate moment when I didn’t know what to do with myself. Kissing some random girl is bad, but I kissed his friend. I blush, looking down.
“And you dream about him,” he adds.
My brow furrows. “How do you know about my dreams?”
“You moan his name at night...” His eyes flare as he inches away. “And mine. Is that what you want? Both of us?”
My pulse kicks up and it’s like I’m there again, running from Evan’s house, humiliated and confused, so fucking scared. A whimper falls from my lips, my eyes burning with tears behind closed eyelids. He’s right, I have dreams about him and Noah, and I have no idea how to turn them off.
“Look at me,” Creed demands. “Answer the question.”
I don’t, my eyes locked on his throat, voice tight. “That kiss was weeks ago. You were mad at me, and I was scared and ashamed because of how much I loved it when you weren’t careful with me.”
I pinch my lips, fisting his hoodie, and look up into his eyes. “I don’t know how to stop the dreams... and yes, I kissed Noah once and yes, I dream about you both touching me, but it’s you I choose every time, while you chose Zara and Flora and—”
“I thought I was losing you!” he snaps, his voice rough. “I never knew how to be good for you, and I thought if I pushed you away first, maybe it wouldn’t destroy me.”
He kisses my forehead, his mouth lingering in that spot and I realize he’s never done that before. My heart swells and a pleasant shudder shakes me.
“I was scared,” he admits, voice reverent, every word coming out faster. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I was scared and I hurt you. Again. I almost killed you, Millie. You almost died, and I don’t deserve you, but I’m in fucking love with you.”
I pull back, breath catching, heart slamming so violently it feels like it might bruise my ribs. “Eli—”
“I love you, baby,” he cuts in, lifting me up. He sits on the bed, cradling me in his lap, hands on my hips, fingers pressing just right. “I’m not perfect. I won’t get this right every time. I’ll probably make you cry again, but... I made you feel safe.”
“You did... you made me feel safe.” I drop my forehead to his, trembling in his arms. “You made me feel whole... and then you kissed—”
“I swear I’ll never hurt you like that again.” He cups my face, eyes jumping from mine to my lips, cheeks, jaw, like he’s memorizing every inch of me. “You’re in every breath I take and every thought I have, and I’m yours, Millie. Only yours.”
He said that before. Always I’m yours, never you’re mine.
My hands move up his chest, feeling the damp cotton of his hoodie and the erratic rhythm of his heart beneath. I tilt my face up, studying him the way he studied me.
Shadows under his eyes, tension in his jaw, fear and hope in his dark gaze.
“And whose am I?” I ask.
He doesn’t speak at first, holding very still, a war raging inside his head if the way his grip tightens on me is any indication. Then he grabs my face, eyes searching, pupils blown.
“Mine,” he says, catching my lips with his. “You’re mine.”
I cling to him, pulling myself in, craving more of him and how he makes me breathe easier. His hand cradles the back of my head and he pulls me in, kissing me like he’s sealing the confession. I gasp into the kiss, a shudder zapping my spine.
The ache that’s been tearing me open for days dissolves and I deepen the kiss. My thighs shake either side of his, hand curling into his hair, breath coming faster.
“I love you so much, baby.” He bites my lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue as he kisses me again.
His hands drop to my hips and he flips us over.
My back hits the mattress, his body covering mine while I grasp his hoodie, yanking him lower.
He grasps the hem of my sweater, every move desperate.
I can relate. Desire thrums in my veins, pulses between my thighs, and my panties are slick, heart thundering in my ears.
I grab his face and make him stop because he’s rushing like he’s afraid I’ll shove him back if he does.
“Eli, look at me.”
He stills for a beat, then straightens on his elbows, eyes so wide there’s almost no brown left.
“I love you, too,” I say.
The effect is immediate and devastating.
His breath leaves him on a broken exhale, muscles loosen under my hands, face twists, half in awe, half in pain. “Again.”
I wonder when he last heard those words.
“I love you, Eli.”
A shudder passes through him, his body collapsing on top of me as his mouth seeks out mine.
It’s nothing like any kiss we’ve shared yet.
At first we were fire, teeth, and greedy desire. There were softer moments, slower, but this now, with his fingers mapping my face, his care, his devotion... it’s those three little words imprinted on a kiss.
I wrap my arms around his neck, losing myself in the first moment that’s not about claiming or proving something, but choosing and settling into that choice.
He breaks the kiss long enough to drag his hoodie over his head, and I push up on my elbows to watch.
The man’s a sight. Ripped, inked, his stomach rippling with muscles. My panties dampen further as I stare at the V down his abdomen. It disappears into his waistband, and my hands move to his belt, then his zipper, impatient now.
He gets rid of his t-shirt before dragging my sweater up and off. With every piece of clothing hitting the floor, we grow more restless, the anticipation coiling low in my abdomen. Creed takes my panties off, then his boxers.
“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he says, crawling between my thighs, his cock heavy and hard, the crown glistening with precum.
“I missed you more.”
He lines himself up, poking my entrance, and slides in one inch at a time. I’m used to brutal, hurried thrusts. I craved them with everything in me not long ago, certain that the rougher he was the stronger I was.
But as he bottoms out inside me now, I know it was never about how hard he could fuck me and how many bruises he could leave. It was about him.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” he breathes against my lips, hips rocking back and forth. “Eyes on me. I’ll take care of you.”
He grabs my thigh, lifting it around his waist and hitting that magical spot inside me that makes me see stars. I moan into his mouth and he kisses me deep, teeth closing over my bottom lip. The bed rocks beneath us, springs squeaking louder and louder as Creed finds a rhythm.
He rocks into me a little faster, not half as frantic as the pace he’s got me accustomed to, but far from soft and careful, somewhere in between, a bridge between rough and intense.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Millie,” he grits out, moving one hand to my throat. “Even prettier when you’re nice and pink. Deep breath, baby.”
I inhale and he squeezes, cutting me off. The pressure elevates my sensations tenfold. My orgasm builds so fast it makes me dizzy.
“Good girl.” He loosens his grip, letting me take three deep breaths before his fingers flex. “Again.”
I shudder beneath him and he buries himself deep, then pulls almost all the way back out. His eyes dart down to watch his cock disappearing inside me. I jut my hips to meet him, then tighten my legs, forcing him lower, silently begging for more.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He releases my neck, angles my hip, and that small change in position jolts pleasure through my nerve endings.
“Oh God,” I whimper. “Don’t stop, please, Eli—”
“Shh, I know, I’ve got you.” His forehead drops to my shoulder, hips working faster, hands holding me in place with bruising force. “Almost there. Let go, let go.”
The headboard taps against the wall, my ears ring, and spine bows off the mattress when the orgasm hits. My lips part and arms lock around him, nails raking down his back.
“There it is, good girl, Millie Baby. My girl,” he groans against my mouth, his thrusts sharper and jerkier as he pushes as deep as he can, coming inside me as the most erotic grunts tear from his chest. “Fuck—”
I’m lost in sensations, still floating, but I hold him through his release, hissing when he bites my shoulder. He collapses over me, breath shallow, body misted with sweat, the weight of him crushing me into the bed.
I could stay here forever.