I wanted to see her one last time before the weed faded from my system and I was back to being fucked up and would either have to self-medicate again or avoid her.
“Ah, before you go.” Selix stood, tucking his phone into his blazer pocket. “We have a problem.”
“Problem? What problem?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Some of the leads you were tracking down on Pim’s mother came back.”
I froze. “And?”
“And I know where she is.”
My heart fucking charged. I didn’t know if I was happy or gutted. Pim had a family looking for her. She had others who loved her. She was someone to them while I would forever be the man who stole her.
Would that mean she’d leave? That I’d have to let her go just like I’d promised? Goddammit, that would be impossible. I’d given into the craziness she made me feel. There was no way I could go back now…
Shit.
“Where is she?” Already my mind ran ahead with ways to inform Pim. To change my travel plans to return her home. We were on our way to the UK. She was from there (I think)—thanks to her accent—even if she hadn’t come out and told me exactly where.
The visit to the Hawks might begin with her on my arm and end with her leaving me.
I won’t do it.
I didn’t want to let her go.
But I knew I would because it was the right thing, regardless of what I wanted. I’d made my choices. I would stand by them. And I would do the right thing where Pim was concerned.
Always.
Raking a hand through my hair, I barked, “Tell me, Selix.”
A few diners looked up at my outburst, reminding me our conversation wasn’t private. Lowering my voice, I commanded, “Come with me. We’ll discuss this outside.”
Selix nodded and followed me.
We pushed through decadent lobbies and into vibrant sunshine and then he promptly scrambled everything in my future.
He told me about Pim’s mother.
About what she’d done.
About where she was.
About everything.
* * * * *
“There you are.” Pim stepped from the bathroom.
Every muscle locked into distress. The addiction fought away the mellowness of weed and made me crave. Fucking crave to have her again.
Goddammit, couldn’t she stop trying to kill me for one fucking second?
Dressed in a towel, her hair clinging like melted chocolate around her collarbone, she was my every fantasy come to life. Her skin glowed. Her lips smiled. She had a looseness—a sexiness about her that she’d never had before. A sensual calmness that stole my breath, sucker-punched me in the gut, and made me want to attack and kiss her all at once.
I was already screwed up when it came to her.
I was even worse now I knew about her mother.
Looking away, I clenched my fists to combat every dirty desire swirling in my head. “Sorry, meeting with Selix.”
I know what happened to you.
I know who you truly are.
Her secrets were my secrets.
And I couldn’t tell her any of them.
Her feet thudded softly on the carpet. “So your note said.” She smiled brighter, coming toward me with intentions in her gaze. Intentions of kissing me or touching me or maybe even boldly dragging me back to bed to deliver on the promises I should never have fucking said. “I missed you.”
I held up a hand, backing away from her and toward my duffel. “Not now, Pimlico.” I threw the clothes I wore last night—the same ones that reeked of sex and her—into the bag and zipped it tight. “I have other things on my mind.”
Things like distracting myself so I don’t throw you to the floor and spread your legs. Things like preventing myself from locking this hotel room and never letting you out of my bed.
The ache in my balls almost made me violently ill. Last night, I’d come twice in quick succession, and it still wasn’t enough to fully satisfy. My body had no limit on pleasure when it latched onto what it wanted. Some men might call me lucky. I called myself damned.
I’d slept with her back to my front with my cock hard all night.
It wasn’t that I was a sexual deviant with no end to his libido. It was because my addiction made everything—including my cock—obey its needs in its quest to conquer and control.
I was just a tool to achieve the highest manipulation possible. And Pim was swiftly replacing my obsession with martial arts, origami, and cello.
I couldn’t let that happen.
Because if it did, nothing would keep me calm. Only her. Only when I was inside her, touching her, kissing her, loving her could I stop the counting, mania, and preoccupation that came with such a deliberating, exhausting condition.
“Oh.” Sad acceptance pencilled over her face as I clutched the duffel and marched to the door. The progress we’d made last night vanished, and she returned to a meek belonging, looking for the next fist, fearing the imminent kick.