If You Stay (Beautifully Broken, #1)(46)

Mila gasps as I push into her, and then she clutches my back, pulling me to her.

“You feel so good,” she whimpers into my ear. And warmth tightens my chest.

I groan and try to focus on anything that will prevent me from coming already, but I know it’s useless. Her tits are smashed against me, wet and soft, and every time I slide against her, the friction brings me that much closer to the edge.

She pulls me closer and in this moment, I know that she is everything that is light and good in the world.

I slide in and out, the heat between our wet bodies driving me to madness.

“I’m going to come,” I rasp against her wet neck.

She opens her eyes and looks at me.

“So come,” she says simply.

And then she buries her tongue in my mouth and I can’t stop myself. My dick pulses inside of her and she clenches around me. I breathe raggedly as I hold her to the wall, and after what seems like an hour, we both slide to the floor. She’s in my arms and the water is beating on us.

I can’t even speak. I just hold her in my lap, cradled to me, and the moment seems huge. We sit this way for the longest time, until the water begins to turn cool.

Mila lifts her head.

“That was amazing,” she murmurs. She pulls away a bit and strokes the side of my face. I lean into her hand and close my eyes. “You’re beautiful,” she adds. My stomach clenches.

“I’m not beautiful,” I answer. “Far from it.”

“You are,” she insists. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

I shake my head, but I don’t release my grip on her and she lays her head back against my chest.

“The water is getting cold,” she says drowsily. Her legs are entwined with mine as her body drapes against me. She doesn’t seem to care about the water, but we’ve both had more than our fair share of cold water for the day.

Reluctantly, I sit up and pull Mila to her feet. I lead her from the shower and towel her off before I head to my bedroom and find her a t-shirt to wear. I pull it over her head and stare down at her.

“Stay with me tonight,” I urge her. “You’re tired, I’m tired and it’s cold outside. Just stay here.”

She grins up at me.

“That was the plan all along,” she answers impishly. “I have my overnight bag in my car at The Hill.”

I stare at her. “You mean… you were going to… tonight?”

She laughs. “Spit it out, Pax. It’s not that hard to figure out. Yes, I was ready tonight.”

I have to chuckle and shake my head.

“Do you like to keep me guessing?” I ask her as I drag her to the bed and onto my lap.

She nods, her green eyes glimmering. “It keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?”

I lower my lips to hers, silencing anything else that she thinks she’s going to say. Covering her body with mine, I push her onto the softness of my bed and trail my lips down her neck, then down her arms to her hands. I kiss her palms and then glance up at the windows.

“There’s a winter storm blowing in across the lake,” I tell her, and she turns to watch it with me.

“It’s a good thing we’re not still out there,” she points out as we watch the dark clouds build and roll in across the water. Lightning flashes across the blackness and the air seems charged with the power of the storm.

I glance down. “It’s a good thing. It’s definitely more comfortable being naked here.”

She giggles and pulls me down to her, her tongue in my mouth again. I decide that it’s where her tongue always belongs. My hands slide to her ass, bringing her leg up around my hip.

“This is where your leg belongs,” I tell her firmly. She smiles against my lips.

“That might make walking difficult,” she answers, as she trails her fingers down my back.

“We’ll figure it out,” I growl and I slide my fingers inside of her. She whimpers and arches against my hand, just as the thunder cracks outside. And then our talking dies as a storm of our own rages in my bedroom.





[page]Chapter Sixteen


Mila



The last thing I think about before I cross the hazy threshold into sleep is that Pax’s arms are so strong and warm. And safe.

I’ll never forget what it felt like when he dove into the lake after me and pulled me to safety. The stupid coat was weighing me down and I couldn’t get it off. He probably saved my life. It’s ironic that he is so reckless with his own life, but seems so protective of mine.

I snuggle more closely against him, against the strength of his chest. My face is pressed against his heart, and it beats loudly against my ear. It’s that thrumming cadence that soothes me to sleep.

And then I dream.

I look down and find sunlight bathing me, glimmering over my skin.

I’m in the church again.

But this time is different.

Instead of the black dress that I wore to my parents’ funeral, I’m wearing a white one. A simple cotton shift that is basically transparent. And my father is sitting in the front of the church, in place of the caskets. And instead of sunlight shining in, he is sitting in the shadows.

My pulse races because this is the first time either of my parents have appeared in a dream. It’s so good to see my father’s face. I rush down the aisle toward him, but my feet will only move one speed. It’s so frustrating because I want to run and my feet just won’t cooperate. But eventually I reach him.