I’m not ready to hand it over in a buy-out.
After the failed meeting, I stayed in LA for a few more days to soak up the sun and even went to Disneyland by myself because I’m just that cool. But now it’s time to return to real life.
Which, it turns out, is not that glamorous. And by not that glamorous, I mean, not at all.
I force myself out of my Beetle, feeling sorry for myself, and lean against the hood, staring at my phone and willing it to work.
Every time I press send to call my dad, though, the call fails.
I close my eyes, knowing it is over five miles to the next exit, and the idea of walking there, alone in the dark, is terrifying. But not as scary as sleeping here tonight.
Bright tail lights force my eyes to open and for a split second I think, thank god.
Except, then, fear overwhelms me. I swallow, scared of some stranger stopping with the pretense to help, only to put me in harm’s way.
Tears prick my eyes, but then, as if I’m hallucinating, a figure cuts through the darkness, lit up by my headlights and his taillights.
Moxon.
“Hey, hot stuff, is this where you come to pick up guys?”
I shake my head in disbelief. Of course, seeing him makes my shoulders fall with relief. If there was a single person on Earth I wanted to come to my rescue, it is him. I’ve been thinking, dreaming, touching myself for days with the memory of him pressed against me.
“Moxon, what are you doing here? You... I... why are you in a suit?”
He frowns, stepping toward me. “I had a date.”
My face falls. “Oh. Right.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ears, feeling embarrassed. Of course, Moxon has a date. “I guess that makes sense, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
He runs a hand over his jaw and doesn’t say anything and the silence stretches out for longer than comfortable.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Are you upset with me?”
He shakes his head, shrugging. “Sorry, I’m just a little sore, I’m not used to rejection.”
“What do you mean?” I twist my lips. “Did your date stand you up or something?” Not that I’d believe it for a second. Although, even the thought of him with another woman, makes my shoulders tighten. I have fallen for this man in the space of a few weeks and he has no clue how head over heels I am for him.
“Are you serious? Millie, I was sitting there alone for over an hour.”
“I don’t know why you’re being snappy with me.” My face falls when I see the hurt in his eyes. “Look, I’m tired. I’ve been in LA all week for a job thing and just flew in tonight. The flight was delayed and then...” I point to the car.
His brow furrows. “You haven’t been home?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ve been gone for seven or eight days. Took the business trip and turned it into a mini vacation.”
“So, you haven’t gone to your apartment?”
“No, I literally just flew in. I left town, well, I guess it was just a day or two after we went out with Mike. The company I was in contact with was really anxious to meet me.”
His face breaks into a smile.
“Why are you so happy all of a sudden?”
“I thought you...” He massages his neck, stepping closer. “I thought you blew me off.”
My face scrunches up in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I had sent a card, inviting you out tonight. Me. You. Chez Monique. A suit. Roses. I had planned on wooing you off your feet.”
“Really, Moxon?”
He lifts his brows. “You think I’d put on this monkey suit for any other woman?”
I shake my head, overwhelmed. “I don’t deserve all this.”
“Like hell, you don’t, gorgeous.” He puts his arms around my waist, pulling me from the hood and planting me firmly against him. “You deserve a whole lot more than a manwhore. You deserve a real man.”
I steady my breathing, wanting this but also having a hard time accepting it. “Moxon, we hardly know each other.”
“What else do you wanna know?”
“A million things. Heck, I don’t even know where you live.”
That makes his face break into an even bigger grin. “Can I show you?”
“You wanna take me home?”
“It’s all I want.”
I look back at my car. “It’s weird that you found me tonight, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not surprised in the least.”
“No?”
He places a hand on my cheek, drawing me toward him. “No, Millie. I think you and I were meant to be. I’m your filthy, you’re my sweet.”
I reach down, my hand pressing against his cock. “I’m not so sure about that, Moxon. I’m pretty filthy myself. And you pulling up here in your truck like my knight in shining armor--you’re coming across pretty damn sweet.”