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Where the fuck is she?
"Mila?" I call her name again, pulling her door closed. I jog back down the stairs and then turn in a circle. A shard of fear starts to spread through me when I still can't find her. I have to remind myself, again, that there's no way Guerrero's people found this place. And then a flicker of light catches my attention, pulling me up short. I start toward the doors to the patio to investigate, swallowing hard when I catch sight of her.
She's standing on the deck, wrapped in a blanket. A bottle of wine rests on the railing beside her, empty save for the few sips left in the glass in her hand. She has her head tilted up, her face turned toward the sky. Clouds rolled in at some point during the day, obscuring the stars in thick bands of milky white. She doesn't seem to mind their absence. She's fixated on the sky as if searching for answers among the heavens. With her blonde hair tumbling down her back, she looks like a goddess, made for nights like this.
If she hears me coming, she doesn't say anything.
I step up behind her, so close the warmth of her body sears into me. My breath fans pieces of her hair, causing her to shiver.
"You're back," she mumbles then, her words slurred.
She leans back against me like she can't stop herself from seeking out my heat. Every muscle in my body relaxes at the feel of her curves against me. Even through the thin blanket, she's soft and sweet, and some fucked up part of me wants her to be mine.
I wrap an arm around her waist, bury my face in her hair, and breathe her in. She smells like peaches, sunshine, and sweet wine.
She doesn't fight me. Instead, she hums, the sound full of contentment, and presses closer.
Christ, she feels good in my arms. Her petite body fits against mine like she was made for me.
"I didn't think you were coming back," she says after a minute.
Not even the devil himself could have kept me from coming back. Had she left, I think I would have gone after her. I don't tell her that, though. It's another item in a long list of shit I can't, or won't, confess to her.
"Are you drunk, Mila?" My cock is so hard it hurts. I want to slip inside her, lose myself in her soft little body. But I want her stone-cold sober when it happens. In every fantasy I've ever had, she's been right there with me, stroke for stroke. I want her drunk on me and what I do to her, not on anything else.
"No. Yes." She laughs quietly, tipping her head back to look at me over her shoulder. Her pupils are dilated, her expression soft and open. "I needed liquid courage."
"Why?" I turn her in my arms with my hand around her waist until she's facing me, her body flush against mine. My cock presses insistently against her belly, but she doesn't seem to mind. If she notices at all, she doesn't comment on it or push me away. Taking her wine glass from her, I set it on the railing beside the empty wine bottle.
She tilts her head back to meet my gaze.
"Tell me why, Mila."
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and hesitation slides through those green eyes. A trembling breath rushes from her mouth, more excitement and nervousness than fear. She studies me for a long moment, searching for something again. Whatever she sees in my eyes seems to give her courage. Her expression firms as if she's made a decision.
"I'm not asking for a relationship," she says, her voice trembling and sweet. "I know you don't date or whatever. That's fine. I don't…I'm not asking to be your girlfriend."
How the fuck does she know I don't date? Did Tahani tell her?
"What are you asking, Mila? What do you want from me?"
She blows out a breath.
"I want you to fuck me, Roman."
Jesus.
She's said those words to me a thousand times in my fantasies, but hearing them out loud is infinitely better. My mouth goes dry. My heart slams against my ribcage. I think I'm speechless for the first time in my life.
Lucky for me, she isn't waiting for a response, instead forging ahead, tripping over her words in a rush to get them out before she loses the nerve."I want the same things you said you want. I want…I want…I want to know what you feel like inside me and on top of me." She hesitates again, her lip between her teeth. "I've never done anything like this before," she whispers. "Damien and I never… Well, that doesn't matter. My point is that I don't know how this works, but I'm here for two weeks. We don't have to tell Tahani or anyone else. It'll be our secret."
Two weeks.
She's offering me two weeks with her. Two weeks to do every dirty thing I've ever wanted to do to her. Two weeks to hold her, to fuck her, to work her out of my system and get over whatever the fuck it is about her that makes me feel like I'm spinning out of control.
"No strings," she says, like that's a hard limit for her. "No commitments. No rules."
Yeah, her ex was a fucking idiot.
