Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MILLIE
He was an idiot. But at the same time, it made me who I am today. I left Thunder Rock with no plans and made something of myself. Even if most people would think that something is scandalous and bad.
I still did it, and I’m proud of the woman I became. I made some damn good friends along the way, too. The confidence I built in myself, not just physically but inwardly, is something I never had before I started dancing.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I whisper.
It’s the truth. The wholehearted truth. That shit would have ruined us. I don’t think we would have ever survived as a couple had he made me his old lady, had I stayed.
He instantly drops his hands from my face, his body heat moving away from mine as he takes a couple of steps backward. His eyes meet mine, and he stares at me. His expression is blank. But his eyes aren’t. He’s showing me every ounce of his emotion behind his eyes.
He feels betrayed by my words.
He shouldn’t.
We would have been miserable. Sure, he was a grown man, but he wasn’t ready for a relationship. And I was a kid. We shouldn’t even have been together. It could never have been serious, even though that’s what I thought I wanted.
I would have been a shit old lady, because I wasn’t ready for it, not by a long shot. I needed to live life a little. Get some experience under my belt. Figure out who I was and what I really wanted out of life. At least that’s what I thought I needed.
I’m still not sure I have it all figured out. But I’m old enough and have lived enough at this point that I know I don’t need to have it all figured out by now, either. What I do have are some experiences. And those are worth their weight in gold.
“What the fuck?” he asks.
“I needed to grow up a lot,” I say. “I wasn’t ready for you, for what we could have been, and you certainly weren’t ready to settle down. We would have hurt one another over and over. Who knows where we would be right now had things gone any differently.”
He doesn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, he turns to ice. In front of me is not the man who devoured me last night. This isn’t Axton Colter. No, this is Piggy the Vicious Reaper, and he’s pissed.
Good.
Maybe I was living in too much of a dream state, too sedated by his good dick and dreams of the past. Maybe this is exactly what I needed. To see him, all of him, the real him. If he thinks he wants me, that he wants to be with me, then he’d better realize I’m not just a sex doll.
I’m going to piss him off, and he’s going to piss me off, too.
I’m a person. I’m not perfect, and I’ll never pretend to be. He’s not either. And both of us being in this wild dream state isn’t going to do either of us any favors. It’s better we figure it all out now.
Even if it hurts like hell, which I have a feeling it’s going to.
“Doesn’t matter,” he snaps. “I’m protecting you. Once the threat is eliminated, I’ll tell Bullet that you’re free.”
And that is that. He turns his back to me, obviously not wishing to discuss any of this further. That’s fine. If this is how he’s going to behave, maybe I don’t want to be with him. He’s forty-two, but right now, he’s not acting like it. I need a man in my life, not a boy.
Turning away from him, I walk to my bedroom, lock the door, and head toward the shower. Axton, Piggy, whatever the fuck he wants to act like… he can fuck himself.
Showered, in my pajamas, tucked into bed, I stare at the ceiling and wonder, What the fuck am I doing? Rolling onto one side, I stare at the blank wall. I really need to decorate this apartment.
Although I’m not sure what I would buy as far as artwork goes. I have never seen anything that’s moved me enough that I want it hanging on my wall to look at day in and day out.
Flopping onto my back again, I let out a heavy sigh.
It’s almost five in the morning. I should be exhausted.
Last night was insane and so tiring. I should be passed out asleep right now, but I can’t stop thinking about Axton, about our fight, about the fact that when I wake up in the afternoon, he might be gone, and I may never see him again.
He was pretty pissed, and I can’t pretend that I’m not, either.
But I’m selfish enough that I can push that all away for one more time. One more chance at my decades-long dream to come true. I know it’s not real. He doesn’t love me, and I was fooling myself to think that I loved him.
My foolish eighteen-year-old heart thought it loved him. And all those feelings came rushing back to me. I was in a fantasy, hoping it could become a reality, but that’s not the way life works.
I shouldn’t have let him inside my heart, but he never left it, so that would be impossible. Tonight is going to close the door, though, and I’m going to lock it with a key and never allow it to be reopened again.
No matter what.
Throwing the sheet and comforter off my legs, I shift them over the side of the bed and stand up straight. Slipping off my shorts, I leave them at my ankles and step out of them, then tug the hem of my tank over my head before tossing it on the floor as well.
Completely naked, I make my way out into the living room. Axton is on my sofa, lying on his back, his arm slung over his eyes. He’s still only wearing his boxer briefs, and I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight of his chest on display.
I should go back to my room and lock my door, but I don’t. One more night... or rather, morning.
One more time.
Closure.
That’s what this is going to be. For both of us.
I bite my bottom lip as I close the distance between us, climbing onto him and reaching for his waistband. Curling my fingers into the fabric, I gently slide it down his legs as far as I can.
His cock is soft, but it won’t be for long. Curling my fingers around the base of him, I open my mouth and take his head between my lips. Swirling my tongue around his head, I suck and lick him.
As saliva drips from my mouth and onto my fingers, I begin to stroke him. It doesn’t take long for his dick to begin to harden, biology taking over. I know he’s not awake yet. His body is still too loose.
I work him with my hand and my mouth, bobbing up and down until he’s hard and ready for me. Then I release him and climb a little farther up, positioning myself, and then slowly, I sink down along his length, taking him completely inside me.
That wakes him up. His fingers curl around my hips, gripping me tightly. “What the fuck?” he hisses.
Placing my hands on his chest, I begin to ride him, wordlessly… slowly. My gaze focuses on his as I take control. He doesn’t say anything else, lifting his hips with each roll of mine. I can’t look away from him. I savor every second of this man being inside me.
A few moments later, I’m flipped onto my back, and he drives himself inside me.
He fucks me hard and fast, the cushions creaking with each grind of his pelvis against my clit.
It’s beautiful, amazing even. And when I come, it rushes through me hard and unforgiving, not even giving me a moment to brace myself.
One more thrust, and he buries himself deep inside me. A groan escapes his lips when he does. What he doesn’t do is kiss me. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. The loss of his mouth and tongue feels overwhelmingly huge.
He knows this is the end, or maybe he’s decided it is as well. Tears prick my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I can tell that he has something on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t say it, or maybe he bites his tongue to keep from saying it.
Then he shakes his head and pulls out of me before he rolls off the sofa. Without uttering a single word, he walks away from me and straight toward the small half bath that’s just off the kitchen.
I watch him go, jumping when the door slams shut.
Well, that’s that, I suppose.
Naked, half ashamed, and wholly embarrassed, I walk back to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I don’t lock it, leaving it up to him. Though I’m not sure he’ll actually use it. He won’t. He’s too prideful. Which is fine with me. It’s better this way anyway.
Climbing into bed, I pull the sheets over my naked body and cry. The tears slide down my face and land on the pillow. Eventually, exhaustion takes over, and I cry myself to sleep. It doesn’t take long, thankfully.
My phone alarm sounds—what feels like only moments later. I sit up and look around, holding the sheet to my body, covering my chest as I do. There is nobody next to me, and after blinking and fully waking, I realize I’m alone.
He’s not in the apartment. I can tell.
And I don’t think he’ll be back, either.
Instant sadness consumes me at the thought of not seeing him again, even though I knew that’s how this was going to play out after the fight last night. He may show up to protect me, but as soon as Dante is dealt with, that will be that.
Finding my robe, I slip it on before going into the living room. Just as I suspect, the sofa is empty, no sign of him ever being here. I try to blink away the tears, but it doesn’t work.
A single tear streams down my cheek.
I allow it, just this one, just this last time. Then no more crying about Axton Colter. That wild dream of mine is over and done with. It’s time for me to pivot, shift, and move forward again. I came here for protection, and I’ll get that. Then I will be gone. As if I had never been here… again.
PIGGY
Driving away from her apartment is not what I thought I would be doing this morning. But I can’t stay there. I can’t be with her and know that she doesn’t want me. That she’s glad we never worked out all those years ago, when I wish we had.
She doesn’t love me. That much is clear. Or maybe it’s all just my foolish, stubborn pride. I’m not sure, and at the same time, I don’t think I give much of a shit to find out, either.
I drive back to Thunder Rock but don’t even bother stopping at the clubhouse first. I do stop at our old building, the place where we spent a hell of a lot of time working and building our security supply company.
It’s still burned to a fucking crisp.
Pulling into the parking lot, I stop at the front.
The insurance check cleared, and soon we’ll have to clear the lot and figure out what to do next.
It won’t stay empty. Something will need to go there.
We just haven’t decided on what, or rather, we’ve been so fucking busy with all the bullshit that’s been thrown our way that we haven’t had a chance.
I’m not sure how long I sit there staring at the building, but it’s long enough that a car pulls up next to me and flashes a light into the cab of my pickup.
Turning my head, I look over to see a Thunder Rock police car sitting next to me, and when my gaze flicks to the driver, I curse beneath my breath.
“Fuck.”
It’s Garcia.
Rolling my passenger window down, I give him a smile because I’m not letting this fuck get to me. I know his father was a Bloodbound member, but he doesn’t know I know that. I’m not sure when I’ll tell him, either, but it’s not right now.
“Hey,” I call out.
“Got a call about someone loitering.”
He didn’t get that call. I’m part owner of this fucking building, but I don’t say that.
“Just pulled into town, and I was thinking. I’m heading home. Got work tomorrow night anyway. Tired as fuck as it is.”
Everything I said is the goddamn truth. I am exhausted.
“Have a good one, Colter,” he calls out.
I’m sure that’s the last fucking thing he really wants, but I don’t question him about it. I give him a little wave before I shift my pickup into Reverse and head out of the parking lot and toward my house.
A few moments later, I’m home… alone. Pinching my eyes closed, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. She’s who I want. I should have stayed there and shown her just how much she fucking wants me, needs me.
A decade without her.
I can’t do that again, not after I’ve had a taste. And that’s all I’ve had, too. Just a taste. I haven’t fucked her enough, and honest to fuck, I don’t think I could ever fuck her out of my system. She’s not my woman, not my wife, and she doesn’t have my kids. So I can’t let this shit go yet.
I just have to figure out how the fuck to get her back without sacrificing my pride.
A knock on the door causes my spine to straighten. Nobody, and I mean nobody, comes to my house. I walk over to the door and look through the peephole. It’s Ivy. I’m surprised to see him here.
Tugging the door open, I tilt my head to the side in question. He chuckles, jerking his chin toward me. I take a step backward, and he moves through the house, neither of us saying a word. I watch as he walks over to my small kitchen table and sits down on one of the chairs.
“Come and have a seat,” he murmurs.
I follow his instructions only because I have no fucking clue what he’s doing here, and I’m curious as fuck. Tugging the chair out from the table, I sit across from him, leaning back as I wait for whatever the fuck he’s going to say.
“It’s Garcia,” he mutters.
“Yeah?”
He nods his head. “You might want a beer for this one.”
Fuck.