Chapter 36
MILA
Oh, my god.
Mila lies in a boneless sprawl, panting like she’s run a marathon. Her body hums, nerves sparkling under her super sensitive skin like little firecrackers as Theo scoops her up and positions her in the center of the bed, her head sinking into the pillow.
Her mind is fogged with lust, her skin flushed and tingling.
That man, she thinks hazily, pushing up onto her elbows, is going to ruin me in the best possible way.
She watches, wide-eyed and utterly entranced, as he unfastens his cufflinks and sets them on the dresser—forearms flexing, precise, unhurried.
His hazel eyes, wild with desire, don’t stray from hers as he carefully undoes each button of his white dress shirt.
When it slides from his shoulders, he drapes it over the back of a chair, like he doesn’t realize what the sight of him is doing to her.
The belt comes next, his fingers moving with maddening calm as he unbuckles it, then slides his pants down those powerful thighs, revealing swirling black tattoos she’s never seen before. Soft, dark hair dusts his skin. Every inch of him looks like sin carved in golden stone.
Her gaze drinks him in hungrily. The dim light in the hotel room casts a warm glow over his inked skin, painting shadows into every line of his body. Her eyes follow the sharp dip of his hips, those V-shaped muscles guiding her stare to the straining black boxers stretched tight over his cock.
Jesus. Her thighs instinctively press together.
He’s hard. Thick. Ready. And hers.
She swallows hard, fingers itching to touch, to trace, to memorize every slope and solid line of him with her hands.
When he climbs onto the bed in nothing but those black boxers, her pulse spikes. He kisses her greedily, and she can taste herself on his lips.
She inhales deeply as he drags his lips across her jaw and down her neck. He smells delicious—spicy with a hint of musk.
His mouth travels lower, trailing fire down her chest to where her nipples strain beneath the lace of her bra. He reaches around and flicks open the clasp, letting the cups fall away as her breasts spill into the cool air.
Then his mouth is on her. Warm and wet and devastating.
She cries out, arching into the pull of his lips around her nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing as his fingers toy with the other in lazy, electric caresses that leave her gasping.
“You like that?” he growls, his breath hot against her pebbled skin.
He lowers his mouth again, tongue circling before he scrapes his teeth over the peak, and she jerks under him, clutching at his hair.
“Oh my god, don’t stop,” she pants, trembling with need as more wetness floods between her legs.
Her hand slips into his boxers, wrapping around the thick heat of him. He groans into her neck, a raw, low sound that makes her core throb.
She strokes him, slow and deliberate, brushing her thumb over the bead of moisture at his tip.
“I need you,” she whispers, voice breaking with desperation.
Theo lifts his head, eyes dark with something almost savage. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”
He kisses her hard, then slides out his boxers, shedding the last barrier between them. She hears the crinkle of foil and watches, breathless, as he rolls a condom over his length. Her mouth goes dry. He’s huge. But she wants him. She wants all of him.
He parts her legs, and then—finally—he’s pressing in, thick and unrelenting. She’s so wet, so ready, he slides in smoothly, and she lets out a choked sob of relief.
Yes. Fuck, yes.
She wraps her legs around him, digging her fingers into the firm curve of his ass as he sinks deeper, stretching her inch by delicious inch. He moans—raw and guttural—as her body clenches around him.
“Baby, you feel so good,” he growls. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
His hips roll against hers, slow at first, deep and deliberate, and her nerves explode with every thrust. She clutches at him, nails dragging across his back, urging him faster, harder—and he obeys.
He captures her hands in one of his, pinning them above her head, while his other grips her hip tight, holding her in place as he drives into her with growing urgency. There’s no escape, no reprieve—only the mind-blowing rhythm of his body against hers, relentless and consuming.
Pleasure builds low in her belly, burning brighter, sharper with every stroke. She’s close. So close.
He fucks her like he owns her, like he’s claiming her from the inside out. Her body burns, writhes beneath him, every muscle straining. The sound of skin slapping, of her broken moans and cries, fills the room.
“I told you I’d make you scream, Daisy,” he rasps in her ear. “I’ve dreamed of fucking you ever since I met you. You’ve been haunting me. And you’re mine now.”
He punctuates his next words with a deep thrust of his hips that has Mila seeing stars.
“All mine.”
“I’m gonna come,” she gasps. His words are her undoing.
“Do it,” he growls, biting down on her neck. “Come for me, baby. Be my good girl.”
And when she does, it’s a detonation. Her body bows, shudders, tightens around him like a vice. She hears herself crying out, barely recognizes her own voice. Her orgasm rips through her, wave after wave, as he pounds into her with savage, perfect precision.
He grunts, deeper now, rougher, his rhythm faltering as she clenches around him. With a last thrust, he groans her name, spilling into the condom as he collapses against her, spent and shuddering.
For a moment, there’s only the sound of their ragged breathing. The sweat-slicked press of his chest to hers, heart to heart.
Then, gently, he shifts, cradling her close and rolling them onto their sides. One big hand slides into her hair. The other circles her hip.
When she opens her eyes, he’s watching her.
A certain contentedness has overtaken his typically guarded expression, although still with a lingering shine of lust in his hazel eyes.
She gazes into the mosaic of green and amber, utterly lost in his beauty.
She can’t believe this man has chosen her. That he’s hers.
“Favorite movie?” she asks lazily, her voice muffled against the warm skin of Theo’s chest.
“Easy,” he replies, his fingers gliding in long, rhythmic strokes down her bare back. “Rudy. A classic.”
She lifts an eyebrow, smirking as she rests her chin against him so she can see his face. “Big fan of the underdog?”
“You know it,” he says, and then he grins—really grins.
God, that smile should come with a warning label. His whole face transforms, full lips stretching wide, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners, and a devastating little dimple appearing, only on the left side.
She wants to kiss it. Lick it. Maybe bite it a little.
“I feel like I just learned a secret,” she murmurs.
“What, that I’m a sucker for an inspirational sports movie?” His tone is mock-serious. “Shocking, I know.”
“No,” she says, smiling up at him. “That you’re funny.”
She laughs, and it comes from deep in her belly, real and surprised and unfiltered. How is this happening? How is she laughing in bed with Theo, naked, tangled in the crisp hotel room sheets, after the most soul-shattering sex of her life?
He brushes a strand of hair from her cheek, thumb lingering long enough to make her pulse stutter. “What about you?” he asks. “Favorite movie?”
“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” she answers promptly. “Kate Hudson is a marketing goddess.”
Theo squints at her as if she spoke another language. “Never seen it.”
She gasps, dramatic. “What? How have you never seen it?”
“Is that the one with the yellow dress?” he asks cautiously, clearly guessing.
“Yes,” she huffs. “And the love fern. We’re watching it. Immediately.”
“You’re gonna make me sit through a romcom?” he groans, but he’s smiling.
“Absolutely. It’s a requirement now.”
He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at her. “Okay, fine. But only if you tell me your favorite food.”
“Cereal,” she says, stretching like a cat.
He blinks. “That’s not food, that’s a cry for help.”
“Excuse you,” she says with mock indignation. “It is the perfect food. No prep, no cleanup, infinite flavor combinations. A little bowl of joy.”
Theo snorts, clearly amused. “You’re surreal.”
“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”
Still smiling, he leans over, grabs the hotel phone from the nightstand, and starts pressing buttons.
“What are you doing?” she asks, propping herself up.
“Ordering you a bowl of joy,” he says simply. “You must be starving. You were working all night.”
Mila stares at him. Something shifts in her chest, warm and a little wobbly.
God, he’s doing it again. This gentle, thoughtful version of him.
She didn’t expect it. She thought Theo was all edges and silence and brute force on skates.
But here he is, making her laugh. Ordering her cereal at midnight.
She watches him move, still deliciously naked as he pads to the bathroom, her eyes glued to the curve of his ass, She hears the tap run and Theo returns with a glass of water.
“We need to feed you and keep you hydrated,” he says, offering it to her with mock gravity. “I’ve got big plans.”
She arches a brow, staring pointedly at Theo’s growing erection. “You’re telling me.”
She takes it from him, hand brushing his, and smirks. “This is dangerously close to boyfriend behavior.”
He settles back into bed, tugging her into the warm space beneath his arm. “I’m not scared.”
She rests her cheek against his chest again, listening to the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear. She feels held, and not just physically. He’s looking at her like she’s something precious, something worth seeing clearly.
A quiet ache blooms in her chest. She doesn’t want the night to end. This soft, strange, perfect moment in time—like they’ve slipped out of reality and into their own little universe.
Her heart squeezes, sharp and sudden. She has to go back to Toronto tomorrow.
She traces an idle circle on Theo’s chest, her fingers skimming across the light dusting of hair there.
“Can I ask you something?” she murmurs.
Theo shifts slightly to look at her. “Yeah. Of course.”
“It’s just…” She bites her lip. “You’ve barely stuttered since we got here.”
His expression doesn’t change, but something in his body stills, like a string pulled taut.
She rushes to clarify. “Not that I expected you to. Or that it matters. It doesn’t. I just—noticed. And I was wondering if…”
She trails off, suddenly worried she’s said the wrong thing.
Theo studies her for a moment, then exhales, the tension melting from his shoulders. “No, it’s okay. You can ask.”
He adjusts so they’re lying face to face, one arm under his pillow, the other curled around her waist. “I stutter mostly when I’m nervous.
Or uncomfortable. Big crowds, loud places, people talking over each other—anytime there’s too much going on around me.
But when I’m home with people I trust? I can go hours without stuttering at all. ”
“So…this feels like home to you?” she whispers.
He nods, eyes steady on hers.
She reaches up to brush his hair off his forehead.
“What’s it like?” she asks quietly. “When it happens?”
He pauses again, thoughtful. “It’s like my body gets hijacked. Like someone else is in control. I know what I want to say. I know exactly what I mean. But it’s like…the words get stuck in a hallway with a dozen locked doors.”
“That sounds awful.”
He makes a soft, bitter sound.“Yeah. It’s the worst with my family, actually.”
She blinks, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“They don’t really get it. They try to fix it instead of listening. Or they interrupt. Finish my sentences. Make jokes.”
He shrugs, but it looks more like surrender than dismissal.
“That sucks,” she says simply. “I’m sorry.”
Mila swallows hard, dreading what she has to tell him next.
“So, I uh…dealt with Conrad earlier,” she starts.
Theo straightens immediately. “Did he bother you? I shouldn’t have let you talk to him.”
The words tumble out as she rushes to reassure him. “No, Theo, it’s okay. I deal with assholes like him all the time. It was fine. We had a very constructive chat.”
She bites her lip. “But, I need to tell you… the condition for him to rescind all his other bids was to keep one. And he kept the round of golf with you and Jake. I’m sorry.”
He groans.
“Don’t worry,” she says, leaning in to peck a kiss on his cheek. “I already have plans to…rearrange that outcome.”
He smirks. “Should I ask?”
“No. Just trust me. I’m scary when I want to be.”
He hums in agreement, and she adds, “I met your mother also. She, uh…introduced herself.”
Theo’s expression darkens slightly. “How’d that go?”
“She’s terrifying,” Mila says honestly. “Elegant…but terrifying. Made me want to stand up straighter and apologize for slouching. And I wasn’t even slouching.”
He huffs out a laugh, but she can feel the tension in his shoulders return.
Mila looks up at him, earnest. “I don’t like them.”
He studies her.
“I don’t like how they talk to you. Or about you.” Her voice drops. “You deserve better. They’re not even in the same league.”
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
Then Theo tugs her a little closer, burying his face in her neck like he wants to hide there.
Mila wraps her arms around him—fierce and unyielding—because she might not be able to rewrite his past, but she sure as hell can protect his future.
“Can I say something without sounding like a complete asshole?” she asks.
He raises his head a fraction and lifts a brow in invitation.
“I talk enough for the both of us.”
That gets a real laugh out of him, rich and low in his chest. “Yeah. I figured that out.”
She grins. “Seriously. If you ever need a translator, or a buffer, or someone to talk nonsense while you regroup—I’m your girl.”
Theo cups her cheek. “You don’t make me nervous anymore.”
Her heart does a little somersault.
She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she leans in and kisses him, slow and tender. And when she pulls back, her voice is barely more than a whisper.
“Good. Because I really like this version of you.”
His thumb brushes her jaw, gaze steady. “This is me.”
And she knows he’s right.
No more masks. Just the two of them, bare in every way that matters.
And she wants a hundred more nights like this one.