Deep (Chicago Underground #8)(54)

“Again.”

And I didn’t have a choice, one leg still held up by him, his cock still inside me, his fingers at my clit. He played with me until I rocked my hips against the tile and begged for another, and then another, and then another. When I had orgasmed five times, keeping all his seed inside me, he pulled away—and the shower’s warm caress cleaned us both.

He dried me with a towel while I stood, barely breathing. And then he carried me to the bed, where he wrapped his body around me. I’d been protected by armed men tonight, by steel and brick and bulletproof glass tonight. But it was only in the shelter of his body that I finally felt safe.

I’m going to make this round with my seed. You’ll be tied to me body and soul.

It was a game, wasn’t it? Something kinky and dark, like Philip. He wouldn’t really want me pregnant, wouldn’t really want to be tied to me. Except he’d said I was his, forever. I wasn’t on birth control and he wasn’t using protection. It could really happen…

I was always coming for you, kitten. You were always mine.

Maybe physically. Emotional intimacy was another matter. It was as if the closer he got to me, the more he cared about me, the more determined he was to push me away. I couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he ever fell in love with me—he’d probably lock me in the basement.

“Am I really yours?” I whispered into the dark. “Are you really going to keep me?”

“Of course you’re mine,” he said roughly. “You always have been, from the moment I saw you. I think you knew that, even then.”

Something held him back, though. Something deep inside. “Is it Shelly?”

He stilled, perhaps surprised. “What?”

“It’s okay,” I rushed to reassure him. It hurt, but I didn’t blame him. She was beautiful and smart. I was half in love with her myself. “I know how you felt about her. That you…loved her.”

His arm tensed around me, a steel band, his body a concrete wall behind me. “Maybe I did love her, in a way. And I loved her more that she brought you to me. But she has nothing to do with this, here, now.”

“Then why?” I asked, my voice small, pride turned translucent with tears. I was losing him, had already lost him—he was never really mine. And even while I knew that was for the best, that he was too cruel, too terrifying, to ever really trust, my heart mourned the loss.

“Fuck.” He rolled to his back, leaving cool air between us. “I wanted Shelly because she was experienced. She knew how it would work between us. I thought that would be enough.”

And then she had married someone else. Maybe that should make me glad, considering my own ache, but I loved Philip too much to want him unhappy. Loved him.

Maybe I always had, even as a broken little girl. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“She didn’t break my heart, kitten.” The word kitten wasn’t a caress this time. It was a whip, fast and sharp. “You did. Just by being here, so f*cking vulnerable, so damn hopeful. It hurts me just to look at you.”

That sounded horrible and somehow sweet. “Then why—”

“I’m not a saint, Ella.”

My heart beat faster, and I turned to face him. His features were set in shadows, a nose bent by violence and lips that had kissed my body with gentleness. He stared at the ceiling.

“I know that, Philip. I know you.”

“Do you?” His expression darkened. “Do you know about the girl I knocked up?”

My throat tightened. Knocked up? He had come inside me again and again. I had believed he would support me if I’d gotten pregnant, that he would have stood by me, but there was no child in his life now. “What happened?”

“There was a girl I was seeing,” he said gruffly. “When I was building my reputation as a problem solver, even before I got custody of Rose. It started off just f*cking around. Stress relief with a girl down the street. I told you I wasn’t a saint.”

“I’m not judging you,” I said softly.

“You will.” He sighed, gathering me close, as if he needed my warmth, my comfort, to tell the rest of the story. “Then it got serious between us. And she got pregnant. It was an accident, at the time. I wasn’t ready for that, didn’t have anything to offer. I wanted to do right by her.”

Of course he did. “What happened next?”

“I asked to marry her. She said no.” His large body tensed. “Maybe she was worried I’d knock her around like my old man. Or maybe she just didn’t like the criminal shit I was into. I don’t f*cking blame her.”

I rubbed my hand across his chest, imagining a young Philip trying to be responsible, to be loving. That was what love meant to him: protection, money. Power, before he really had any.

“She married some other guy at the construction company where I worked during the day. Honest enough guy. I never even knew if he thought the baby was his or what she told him. She said it was how she wanted it to be, and I didn’t want to f*ck that up for her. And hell, a baby would be better off without me for a father.”

“No,” I whispered.

“It didn’t matter.” His voice had gotten raw. “She went into labor early. Too early. She lost the baby and then bled out on a cot in some f*cking third ward hospital.”