Still Not Over You(34)

But when I think of her naked skin soft and yielding under my palms, when I think of her back arching and her breasts thrusting against my chest as I touch and tease her, kiss and taste her, exploring every inch of her until she’s tossing against her wild mane of chestnut hair, clutching at me...

Fuck. It’s so real I can almost taste her, wet on my tongue.

Drenching herself with the heat and hunger I know I can coax past that shyness...

Yeah.

When I think of that, when I think of what could have been if we’d had normal lives and grown into ourselves side by side, realizing what we’d been ignoring for years...

I almost want to be that man again.

That man I can never be, when if I touch her, if I take her, if I discover for myself just how sweet and tight the depths of her body could be, I know what happens next.

Not think. Not imagine.

Know.

I’ll defile her.

I'll ruin her.

I'll leash her heart and her mind and her sweet, sweet cunt to every piece of me, and I'm a maniac who won't let go.

It’s not like she could ever look at me with that kind of trust for real, anyway, no matter how many little longing glances she throws my way, glances that tell me she expects better from me.

It’s not hard to tell she still fears me as much as she wants me.

She should.

I’ve given her plenty of reason.

Still, it's hard to remember that when the blood throbs lightning in my temples and my cock, and I’m five seconds away from dragging her into my lap and finding out what it’s like when we kiss for real.

This time without any damn spectators.

I regret that last thought a split second later. An imperious little rap interrupts us, knocking against the doorframe leading out to the deck. Reb jumps from the surprise, and I'm almost right behind her.

Milah.

She's standing there, looking smug, her little pouting petulant fit apparently forgotten. In fact, she almost looks triumphant as she tosses Kenna a sour look, then shoulders past her.

Ducking her head, Kenna retreats a step, hugging that journal to her chest like a shield. I push to my feet.

More interested in positioning myself as a shield between them when Kenna looks like a kicked puppy, but Milah doesn’t give me the chance. She inserts herself in my path, raking me with a once-over that feels so possessive it makes my skin crawl, turning a saccharine smile up at me with her lips pursed, as if inviting a kiss.

I don’t even get to ask her if she’s made up her mind yet before she’s already baby-lisping at me.

“Good news, Landy. I’ve decided,” she purrs, “that you can still be my good boy.”

My eyebrows fly into my hairline. A growl rises up the back of my throat.

There’s a fuck that stalled on my lips, but she keeps talking, tossing another of those victorious, cruel looks over her shoulder at Reb.

“I heard everything,” Milah says. “Girlfriend? I knew it couldn’t be true.” She smirks. “Did you think I'm stupid? Like those ratty, shit-flinging tabloids all say? Fun fact: nobody lies to Milah Holly.”

Then her slender hand – with nails that feel like claws that could easily dig hard where they don’t belong – cups over my erection. It immediately withers, my gorge rising, but she doesn’t even seem to notice, her smirk widening. “This will be mine by next week, Landy, and there’s nothing your fake girlfriend can do about it. I'll suck it, jack it, whack it, ride it, and love it allll I want – and you'll damn well enjoy every splendid second.”

My eyes flash to Kenna. There's a raging, almost violent look in her eyes I've never seen before. I'm expecting her to physically assault my very crazy, disgusting, self-absorbed client, and I'm almost ready to let it happen. Deal with the fallout.

I’m under half a breath away from shoving back from Milah as violently as I can – doing the damage so Kenna doesn't have to – when she pulls back herself, freeing me from that nauseating hand.

I'm fucking furious. Lungs heaving black smoke. It couldn't be more obvious, but she’s completely blind to it. Another proprietary look that I guess is supposed to be sultry, seductive, and then she’s sauntering away, leaving me alone.

Alone, because Kenna’s gone.

And it’s suddenly important that I tell her I’m not into Milah.

I could never be into Milah, because Milah Holly's the most entitled asshole I’ve ever seen. A universe apart from a shy, pretty girl trying so hard to pretend to be grown-up, just so I’ll finally see her as the woman she is and not my best friend’s bratty little sis.

So fucked. That's what this is. Don’t even know where to start untangling it.

I only know that I can’t do this.

No Kenna, no Milah, none of it.

I’ve got to step back, reassess, get my head on straight. This sideshow is messing up everything, especially after the talk I had with Dallas.

I fling myself through the deck doors and toward the stairs, already digging out my phone and thumbing through my address book for Milah’s agent’s number.

This job is off.

Getting grabby with me like that goes too far. Not in the contract. You don’t fucking do that to anyone when they've made it crystal clear their skin's crawling.

But before I can hit the Call button, my phone vibrates in my hand.