Chapter Thirteen
Milo
“Oh no. Not this douchecanoe.” Sophia groaned, adding chocolate to the mocha she was making.
I’d returned to work with a spring in my step, well-rested and well-fucked. Nothing and no one could ruin my day. Except…
“What?” I swivelled in her direction, letting the door to the staff entrance swing closed. “Is Andrew here?”
She handed the coffee to the waiting customer. “Yes. Do you want me to tell him to fuck off?”
“I’ll deal with him. Can you keep an eye on the register?”
“Sure thing.”
“Thank you.” I stomped to the end of the counter where Andrew approached. Of course, he never expected to wait in line.
Andrew had always been well-dressed in clothes he could barely afford and a watch on loan, with impeccable skin, and enough product in his hair to give any stylist nightmares.
He looked good in a social media filter way.
Artificial. I took him in, and not much had changed, but I knew now that his confidence was pure arrogance, and his charming smile was fake.
“Hi.” Andrew dished out his grin that used to heat my cheeks but now gave me the creeps.
“What do you want?” I crossed my arms and promised myself I won’t let him get to me.
“Is that how you greet the one who got away?”
“I escaped from you, and thank fuck for that.”
His lips thinned into an angry line, then he took a breath. “I heard you were in a hospital so I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine, thanks. You can leave now.”
He planted both palms on the counter and leaned over. “So you’re all healed up to go out tonight? Or we can order to your house.”
“Ew, no.” What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Come on,” he drawled. “You must be so bored without me. It will be like old times.”
“That is exactly why I said no.”
Andrew reached over to grab my wrist, but I stepped back, dragging him halfway over the counter. He knocked the snack packets off the stand, and they toppled to the ground.
“Get off me,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
“Is this man bothering you?” Rowan’s voice was a balm to my soul.
He appeared next to Andrew, towering over him.
For the first time, I understood why people were afraid of Rowan.
His height and build were a significant advantage in any scaring technique, but it was the dark, menacing expression on his face that would send anyone smart scurrying away.
Andrew straightened his clothes and scowled, meeting Rowan’s chest. He looked up and stumbled back.
“I was reconnecting with an old flame.” He put on an innocent expression that Rowan was not buying.
“Oh, cut the crap, Andrew.” I rolled my eyes and turned to Rowan. “He was just leaving.”
“I’ll be back.” He pointed a finger at me.
I grimaced. “Don’t.”
“Or you could come with me now. No one cares about this place, anyway.” Andrew rounded the counter and reached out for me, then stopped with shock in his gaze.
Rowan was holding him by the back of his collar like a naughty kitten. “Milo asked you to leave. Consider listening to him.”
Andrew grunted, attempting to wiggle out of the grasp to no avail. “Oh, so you’ve got yourself a bodyguard? Are you that afraid of me, Milo?”
“No. But I think you’re a piece of shit and I don’t want to see your ugly face here. So go.”
“I’m not ugly! Wait—” He craned his neck to look at Rowan’s then snorted. “Is that what you’re fucking now?” He indicated Rowan with his thumb. “A monster? How could you stoop so low after having me? Are you depressed again?”
“That’s enough.” Rowan marched Andrew by the collar.
“Let go of me, you freak.” He flailed his arms like a cartoon villain caught in a trap.
“Okay.” Rowan sent Andrew stumbling to the pavement outside the cafe. “Don’t show your face here again, or even your mom won’t be able to call it pretty anymore.”
“Is that a threat?” Andrew squeaked.
“No,” Rowan said calmly. “It’s a promise.”
Rowan returned inside and held his hands up as if I would be afraid of him now. “Are you okay?”
I huffed. “You can’t say shit like that.”
“What did I do?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“You basically told him that you’ll be here next time he comes. You won’t.” I poked his chest with a finger. “I’ve dealt with him before, and I can handle him again when I have to.”
“I just—”
“Yeah, you were a hero for a minute there, but then I’ll be facing the consequences. Alone. I don’t need your macho bullshit.”
“I’m sorry.” Rowan grimaced, visibly deflating.
Ugh, I hated that he looked as if I’d struck him. “I appreciate your help, I really do. But I can’t learn to rely on you. Can you understand that?”
He nodded once and took a step back. “Yeah, I get it.”
“I’m not mad at you.” My hands shook, and I shoved them into the pockets of my jeans. “I just need a minute.”
I marched through the staff door to the kitchen and straight into the walk-in fridge.
With a huff, I dropped to my knees. Looking around for anything to scream into, I groaned.
Not even a bag of flour. It was a goddamn fridge.
I buried my face in my apron, wishing I could cover myself with it and disappear.
What the hell are you doing? You let him get into you again.
Andrew was a piece of manipulative shit that I had flushed months ago. He had no power over me. Yet I hated how he could throw me off by showing his mug at my cafe.
Rowan was only trying to help. Fuck.
“I’m here if you need me. Or you can tell me to go.” Rowan’s voice was muffled from the other side of the heavy door. “Sophia let me in.”
I sucked in an angry breath through my teeth with the intention of telling Rowan to go the fuck away, but I released it slowly instead. Did I want him to leave?
No.
“Um…I don’t know if you can hear me,” Rowan said, “but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I overstepped.”
I sat against a shelf and banged the back of my head on it. My teeth rattled. Not from the hit, but from the cold. I rubbed my hands together, generating no warmth whatsoever.
Rowan shuffled on the other side. “I’ll go. You need your space.”
“No! Don’t go.” I scrambled to open the door. Warm air hit me in the face as I toppled over.
Rowan’s arms were around me, and he sat on the ground with me on his lap. Only then, feeling safe and understood, did my tears fall, rolling down my cheeks.
Rowan held me loosely, giving me a way out, but also comforting me with a kindness I’d never truly known from a partner. I was stupid for crying, but I couldn’t help it.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I sniffled and wiped my face on my apron. “I shouldn’t let that asshole affect me. You were hot out there.” I snort-laughed through drying tears and turned around to straddle him.
“I’m sorry, Milo. You always understand what people need out there, and you read me like an open book. No one has ever done that before.” Rowan cupped my face. “Sometimes I don’t know what you need from me, but if you tell me, I’ll listen, I promise. No more macho shit.”
I kissed him. I had to. And he opened to it with a gentleness so usual to him, yet so contrary to his size. He held me like I mattered and kissed me back like I was becoming the air he needed to survive.
My body responded to his proximity and to Rowan’s scent of leather mixed with freshly cut wood. I’d thought it was his cologne but he always smelled the same. It was his natural scent, and it was a strong aphrodisiac to my senses. I broke away from him, panting.
“I need you right now.” I ground my butt on his lap, driving my point across.
“Here?” He stroked my back in circles, then down to my ass.
I stood up, backed into the storage room, and beckoned him with a finger. “Yes.”
He pulled to his feet, his gaze darkening to that expression of needy surrender, as if he wanted me so much he’d follow me everywhere. No one has ever looked at me like that before, and I was drunk on the attention.
Rowan was so fucking sexy when aroused.
“Make me feel good. I don’t care how.” I raked my fingers through the hair peeking from the vee of his open shirt. I needed Rowan to fuck Andrew out of my head as soon as possible.
He caught my wrist, turned me around and placed my hands on the shelf. “Hold on to it.”
“I need it fast and raw.” I looked at him over my shoulder and thrust my ass back. “Please.”
Rowan pulled my pants, along with my underwear, down to my ankles, and squeezed my butt with both hands. “I love your ass. I could wake up with you sitting on my face every day.”
“Fucking hell.” My head filled with ideas on how to surprise him with exactly that one morning.
Rowan looked around and smirked. “You like kitchen lubricants.” He grabbed a bottle of olive oil and unscrewed it.
I snorted a laugh. “I do.”
He poured the oil over my crack, and it leaked down my legs. I couldn’t care less about the cleanup now. Not when I was about to explode without an orgasm from Rowan.
He didn’t tease, nor wait. But did as I asked, sliding one finger then another, spreading the oil inside me with quick, calculated movements. They were big, stretching me just right, but I knew by now I could take much more.
Rowan nuzzled my nape while he slid his free hand to my cock, playing with the tip of my crown only.
I thrust back until he could push any further.
“Squeeze my fingers, my little coffee bean.” He growled into my ear. “Yes, like that. I can’t wait for you to be so stretched, you’d squeeze my cock like this. Your hole would stay open after and I will play with the swollen rim.”
I whimpered. “Yes. I want my hole ruined for you.” I said a lot of things in the heat of passion, but this time I meant it. The very thought of riding his dick drove me closer to the brink.
Rowan licked the crook of my neck, then closed his teeth over the spot. Not in a painful way, but as if he was holding me in place while he drilled into me with his fingers, like it was his cock and he was about to come inside me.
“Stroke yourself. Let me catch your cum.” He positioned his hand in front of me and watched over my shoulder.
I wrapped my fingers around my olive-oil-smeared dick and jerked off for him. For myself.
Rowan tagged my prostate with his fingers, and I yelled my pleasure until I bit my bottom lip to stifle the sound. I released my load into his soup-bowl-sized hand while fucking myself on his thick fingers until I was done, spent, and empty.
Rowan retreated gently and kissed the spot he’d held me with his teeth.
Shuddering, I let out a breath as my body went cooked noodle on me. I turned around and leaned against the shelf.
Holding my gaze, Rowan licked his palm clean as a low rumble resonated from his chest.
“Why are you so hot?” I pushed him and wiped my thighs and ass with a bunch of paper towels I pulled from a roll nearby.
“So you’re definitely not mad at me?” He was still licking his fingers when he asked it. Pure evil.
“No.” I rearranged my jeans properly, holding onto his forearm for balance.
He beamed. “And you’ll still go to my sister’s wedding with me this weekend?”
“Yup.” I kissed his cheek. “Will you come over after work tonight? No pressure.” Imagining a night without Rowan while he was only a few blocks away was painful. Not only because his presence somehow cured my nightmares but just because of…him.
“I’ll be there. And I’ll stay over if you’ll let me.”
Oh thank fuck.
Author’s notes:
Fuck Andrew, amiright? To the nosy bishes in comments: no, I won’t describe my hot dude.
Well, not mine, but dayum, guys, he came back yesterday and casually mentioned my name.
Yes, it’s on my tag, but still. I smiled and waved.
I probably looked like a goblin looking for cheese, but at least I didn’t say anything stoopid.