The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

“I played it over and over in my mind afterward,” Charity’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark, and she wasn’t sure if Miles could hear her. “What did I do to set him off? What did I say?”

“He was going to do whatever the hell he was going to do, Charity. Regardless of your actions and words,” Mile’s harsh voice startled her out of her safe confessional and yanked her back to the present.

“He said he was sorry.” Charity’s voice was thick with tears. She was dimly aware that Miles’s free hand was tightly latched onto hers. “Said that he had been so very disappointed to discover that he wasn’t my first, and he hated how I had dism

issed and mocked that disappointment. My tone of voice had just triggered something inside of him. I would later understand that it was a pattern with him. I suppose it’s a pattern with most abusers. He’d apologize profusely while reinforcing that it was actually my fault he had reacted the way he had. He was so so sorry but, I shouldn’t have done this, or said that, or worn whatever.”

She became aware that the SUV was no longer moving and looked up in surprise.

“Oh. We’re home.”

“Yes. For several minutes now.” His voice was quiet, as if he were afraid of startling her.

Charity cleared her throat self-consciously and tugged against his grip on her hand. He released his hold on her immediately.

“I need a shower. I’ll see you in the morning. Thank you again, for a lovely evening.”

Miles disliked the distance and formality in her voice and demeanor but he understood her need for space. Listening to her soft, almost dispassionate, recounting of such a harrowing example of abuse—the first of many such incidents—had been absolutely heartbreaking. He had hated hearing about it, had wanted to plead with her to stop…but he had also recognized that he was probably the only person that she had ever told.

That trust meant everything to him. It felt sacred and he would be damned if he would flinch away from it just because he felt fucking physically ill to hear her speak of her trauma.

But she had lived through that nightmare. The least Miles could do was listen.

She was out of the SUV and halfway up the basement stairs before he could say another word. She opened the door, and paused…but didn’t look back. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and disappeared from view.

Only when she was gone did he allow himself to react. He had both hands firmly locked around the steering wheel his grip so tight, his knuckles were white and his palms were starting to hurt. He inhaled, filling his lungs to capacity and holding the air for a long moment before releasing. The sound that emerged from the back of his throat, riding the exhalation, was low, feral…unrecognizably harsh.

He wanted to hold her. Wrap his arms around her and cocoon her from the world. He wanted to kiss her, hug her, love her until all she could see and feel and taste was him. Until he could obliterate what that fucker had done to her from her memories. He would happily give up all his wealth to erase the pain she had suffered. Every bruise, broken bone, burn, bite…and whatever the fuck else that sadistic monster had done to her. He wanted it gone. He wanted to do that for her.

But he couldn’t.

And for the first time in a very long while, Miles felt helpless.

She went rigid when she sensed him in the shadows. Terrified of what he would do. He walked toward her, a shadow figure…large, looming, and menacing. The closer he came, the less of him she could see. His face obscured by the bright light streaming from behind him.

He spoke...

“Charity.”

…And the strength deserted her limbs. It took her forever to fall but his arms closed around her. Stopping the descent and saving her from harm.

She stared up into that face but it remained obscured by the shadows. She could see only suggestions of shapes, the glint of his eyes, the curve of his mouth. And yet...

This no longer felt menacing.

She lifted a wondering hand to his lean cheek. “You’re here.”

“Always.”

His mouth met hers, and she sighed, welcoming the familiar taste of him. The kiss consumed her, inflamed her, awoke every sense, and she curved herself into his hard body. Wanting it. Wanting him.

He lay her down, and suddenly he was on her, in her…thrusting, demanding, taking, and giving.

She raced toward her climax. A little shocked by how fast this was happening.

She was nearly there. On the verge…

“Miles…”