“Savvy,” I growled, then tugged her into me. “I fuckin’ love you.” Then I kissed her again.
Tonight had been my last shift at Compass. I’d miss the girls and dancing, but I was excited about my new job. I hadn’t told Killian yet because I wanted to surprise him when he arrived back from New York.
I’d told Frankie last night and gave her my two weeks’ notice, but she’d insisted tonight be my last night so I could start my new job sooner. She also knew Killian wasn’t pleased about me working here.
I called Ali, the woman who owned the dance studio, this morning and let her know I could start right away. The salary wasn’t as good as Compass, but it didn’t matter. It was enough to live on, and once I built up a clientele, my salary would also increase.
My phone vibrated, and I took it out of my purse as I walked up the last flight of stairs to my apartment, Luke behind me.
Just landed. I’ll see you in an hour.
Can’t wait to see you.
You too, baby. Luke with you?
LOL… yes. Luke would have to be dead before allowing me to walk into this building alone.
Baby, you’re sitting on my face tonight and that pussy is mine. After I spank that sweet ass.
My sex clenched at the thought. Killian pushed me sexually, but hell, it was a good push. Freeing. He excelled with the ropes and had tied me up the other night with my legs positioned over my head and secured to my wrists, while my wrists had been secured to the bed rungs. Then he’d leaned over me and slid his cock inside. Slow. Deep. So incredibly deep that—
“Miss Grady?”
I jerked from my thoughts and realized I was standing outside my door with Luke standing beside me.
God, he’d only been gone two days. How did I survive eleven years without him?
He consumed my every waking and sleeping thought. And he didn’t make it any easier when he sent texts like the last one.
“That was Killian,” I told Luke. “They’ve landed. But I’m sure you already know that.” Killian had asked me to go with him, to New York, but I’d had the job interview, although I hadn’t told him that. I’d said I wasn’t a fan of flying.
His eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at his phone. “No. Roman hasn’t messaged me yet. But good to hear. He will be coming here?”
I smiled. “Yes, so you don’t have to wait around.”
“I’ll wait.”
I put the key in the lock and went inside. Luke waited until I turned the lock before I heard his footsteps jog down the stairs.
Flicking on the lights in the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of water, then sipped it before pouring a little into the orchid on my windowsill. It really did need a new pot and now that I was with Killian, I was okay with parting with the cracked pink one.
The floor creaked behind me, and I spun around. I managed a half scream before a large calloused hand covered my mouth and I was quickly yanked up against a hard, unrelenting body.
I screamed again, but it came out as a muffled moan. I kicked and struggled against his arms, but I was like a ragdoll to him as he easily dragged me toward my bedroom.
Oh, God. No. Please no. I twisted against his fierce hold, but his arms were like steel and my arms were locked to my sides. I slammed my foot down onto his boot, but it was like hitting cement.
“Stop fighting, damn it,” the man growled in my ear. “He just wants to talk to you.”
He? Who? What was he talking about? Why were we going into my bedroom?
Fear raced through me. If I could make enough sound, someone would hear me. Trevor. God, Trevor would hear me if I could scream or make enough noise.
But whoever had me trapped in his arms knew that, and his hand smothered my mouth. I was having trouble breathing as I dragged in air through my nose.
When he went to shut the door, I elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted, but his hold remained.
“Relax,” he barked. “She’s a feisty one. Like one of your mares.”
Mares? Like a horse? My eyes scanned my dimly lit bedroom and hit the man sitting in the rocking chair in the far corner. My lamp beside the bed was on, but it offered little light. All I could see was his profile in a soft yellow glow. They’d shut the curtains, and the rest of the room was left in complete darkness.
But the light was enough to know who it was.
Killian’s father.
The monster in the closet. And the bogeyman under the bed. At least that was what I used to think of him. Now, all I saw was a weak, pitiful man who had been cruel to Killian, which seemed more significant since knowing about Emmitt. And someone who hurt defenseless animals.