Bound Beneath His Pain (Dirty Little Secrets 1)

I hear the waver in her voice, the uncertainty of her words, and step forward, closing my body against hers. “Tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you.”

She pauses, looking past all my defenses. Then, “I want you to be there in the morning.”

“Then I will be.” I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs, controlling the adrenaline pulsating through my veins, spiking my heart rate. “And if I can’t be, you’ll know it beforehand.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, telling me that she knows changing anything about myself is something I would never do, not for anyone. “Really? Just like that, you’ll do this for me?”

“I can’t allow you to run from me again.” Whatever she asked of me now, I’d likely give her. “If this keeps you from running, then yes, I can do it for you.” I drag a thumb across her bottom lip, watching my skin slide against hers before looking into her eyes again. “I need you in my life, Allie, and I can no longer pretend that I don’t.”

I’m lost staring at her, touching her, relishing in the silence of my mind. My chest no longer constricts and my muscles loosen. It makes all the reasons I shouldn’t be with her leave my mind for this moment. They won’t vanish. I will deal with them, including Darius. But right now I’m not thinking about what could break us apart, I’m only thinking about her.

I lower my head to hers. “Now kiss me,” I demand.

And she does. Deeply.

Allie

Micah’s cellphone ringing breaks a kiss like no other. This kiss we shared matters. It means something. It’s an apology, and it’s his way of accepting my

forgiveness. I hear his harsh curse before my eyes open, and I’m staring into his gorgeous smoky grays, just below his black baseball cap. A certain peace washes over me, stealing away the tension I hadn’t known had been there.

I feel better when I’m with you and unwound when I’m not, he had said.

I guess I feel like that, too.

His strong body is still so close to me, that warm and woodsy scent spiraling around me, and as I gaze upon this passionate and intense man, seeing the possessive way he’s watching me, I know three things for sure: I don’t regret letting Micah into my condo, allowing him to explain, or letting him kiss me. Because Micah didn’t feed me bullshit; I saw this in the way he tensed up when he told me how he feels. The slight clench of his jaw when he admitted he would give me anything to ensure that I didn’t push him away.

I’m shivering with the heat I feel coming off him, as he drags his thumb across my damp mouth. I see how much he wants me. I want him, too. But the better part of my judgment reminds me to remain careful with him. He can hurt me. We need to take this slow.

A blast of cold air washes over me as he steps back and frowns, reaching into his pocket. He looks at the screen before glancing at me. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.” Eyes on me, he places his phone to his ear. “Holt.” A pause. “Yes.” Another pause and then a sigh. “Go on.”

I mirror his frustrated sigh when he moves into my kitchen, talking business.

All the same, I realize the break is necessary, and with the distance, I begin to think again. I don’t have everything figured out when it comes to Micah. My heart doesn’t feel entirely safe with him, but it wants to.

Again, baby steps, I remind myself.

I watch him as he’s staring out my kitchen window. He appears so strong standing there, looking out into the city he conquered, but I see now that his shields are an illusion. I know that because of when he said, Please. Stop. He couldn’t hide his wounds then and they are raw, bleeding still. Micah’s an enigma and one with a dark past. And whatever it involves, I think together we can try to heal his demons. I’m not going into this relationship blind, but I’m not going into it closed off either.

A loud beep snaps me to consciousness, and I still see him standing by the window. I hurry into my office, grab my cellphone off the desk, seeing an email from Holt. Reminded of Liv’s email earlier, I set to printing off the details about Kevin’s house before returning to the living room.

Micah is leaning against my kitchen island, eyes on me when I enter the room. I smile at how he’s watching my every move. God, it’s incredible to be the focus of his intensity. My knees loosen, feeling a little weak before I drop down onto my oversized beige chair in the corner of my living room and drape both legs over the side. I begin reading the document and memorize every single detail that I’ll need to tell the Lowes tomorrow.

When I reach all of the recent upgrades, a note is thrust in front of me.

Take off your pants.

I jerk my head up and mouth, “What?” to Micah.

He winks, pointing to the note as his reply.

He’s serious. That I don’t doubt.

A mix of butterflies and heat clench my stomach. Something foreign inside tells me to do this. Maybe it’s the devilish curve of his mouth, the commanding way he’s watching me, or the smolder in his eyes, but I’m removing my pants and panties without even thinking about it.

I toss both aside, when Micah says into the phone, “We have room at Holt to move in that direction?” He grabs one ankle, placing it high on the armrest, then grabs the other and positions it on the other armrest. My face flushes hot as I’m spread wide while he adds, “Does the space need any upgrades?”

I’m shaking at the way he’s looking between my thighs. Hungry. Urgent. Masculine satisfaction. I like the way he wants me. I love the way he needs me. I swallow deeply as he steps closer to the chair, leaning against the armrest. My heart is beating in my chest and I can hear it pound in my ears when he inserts two fingers into his mouth, soaking them with saliva before he adds, “That should work out fine.”