Vicious Protector by Maggie Cole

5

Adrian

When Skylarand I leave Hailee's, it's after eleven. As we step outside, a police siren fills the air, and I grow uncomfortable again thinking about Hailee living in this neighborhood. I quickly guide Skylar to my vehicle, open the door for her, and get into the driver's side, starting the car immediately.

"That was nice of you," she says.

"What?" I glance at her, trying not to focus on her lips. All night they've haunted me. Every time she smiled, laughed, or displayed her serious expression while concentrating, the ache in my gut exponentially expanded. I couldn't stop thinking about what it was like to kiss and lick her plump little lips.

She smirks. "I didn't take you as an arts and crafts kind of guy."

"A-plus," I tease and wink.

She smiles, lighting up against the darkness of the night. A soft laugh fills the car. She twists a lock of her magenta hair around her finger. The blue in her eyes deepens.

How could I have screwed this up so badly?

"Where do you live?" she asks.

"I just moved to one of the new buildings Maksim and his brothers built. It's called Skyline Estate."

She nods. "I heard about that building. It sold out in under an hour! I was going to look at it. The views are supposed to be amazing, even at night."

"They are. It's a clear night. Do you want to check it out?"

Silence fills the SUV. My stomach flips, and I curse myself for asking her. I'm about to retract my invitation when she says, "Sure."

My insides go giddy. I'm making more progress with her and don't have to drop her off. I attempt to play it cool. "You're in fashion?" I tear my gaze from hers, focusing on the road.

"Yep."

"You like it?"

"Most days. My boss is demanding. He's often an over-the-top twat. If he weren't so big in the industry, I'd find someone else to work for, but I don't have many choices in Chicago. I suppose I should move to New York and take one of the jobs a few designers offered me."

Panic creeps into my belly. I just met her, but I don't want her anywhere except where I can see and touch her. "You would move?"

"Probably not. I love Chicago. Plus, my friends and family are here."

I try not to appear too happy about her statement. "You grew up here?"

"Yes, near Lincoln Park. I moved to San Francisco for fashion school then returned. I missed my mom and sisters, so it was good to be home."

"You moved back when you graduated?"

She doesn't answer right away and finally replies, "No. A few years after."

"What made you decide to come home?"

She taps her hands on her thigh and turns toward the window. Her voice lowers. "I needed to get away from someone."

The hairs on my arms rise. "Someone hurt you?"

She turns to me. Her forehead wrinkles. "Why did you ask me that?"

Blood races in my veins. I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to contain my rage. "Who hurt you, my printsessa?"

"It was a long time ago. I'm over it. I blocked him, and he doesn't know where I live."

"He was your boyfriend?"

"No. Ex-fiancé."

Jealousy flares in my belly. She loved someone enough to want to marry them. I turn the blinker on and look in the rearview mirror. It's clear, so I veer into the other lane. I attempt to pry further. "What did he do to you?"

She hesitates, draws her bottom lip into her mouth, and bites on it. She twists her hands in her lap and studies them.

I put my hand over hers. "Did he hit you?"

"No."

"Cheat on you?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

There's a lump growing in my throat. I can't bring myself to ask her if it was sexual. Pictures of Natalia enter my mind, and I wince inside. My voice comes out hoarse. "Tell me."

"It's not what you're thinking. It wasn't physical." She avoids me but doesn't make me remove my hand.

I rack my brain, trying to figure out what it could be. Physical and sexual are out. No cheating. What is left? So much time passes, I urge, "Will you tell me?"

"Adrian..." She sighs. "It's better if we don't get into this."

"Why? I can handle it. I promise I won't go apeshit and find the guy and beat him to a bloody pulp. At least not tonight," I tease and wink but am also serious. I already want to kill the bastard for hurting her.

"I'm fine now. And I have lots of lingering therapy bills to prove it," she chirps.

"Okay, then tell me."

"Just drop it."

"Sorry, I can't."

"Adrian—"

"I need to know," I insist.

"No, you don't. It's not your business."

I try a different tactic. It's the truth, so I don't see anything wrong with using it. "If you don't tell me, I'm going to start spinning out about what he might have done to you. Then I'm going to dig into every part of your life until I find out who he is. When I find him, he'll have no choice but to admit whatever it is he did."

She closes her eyes. "Jeez. That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"I don't think anything is extreme where you're concerned," I admit.

She tilts her head. "I'm not sure if I should be impressed or scared by that statement."

My chest tightens. "You're scared of me, my printsessa?"

"No. Should I be though?"

"I will never hurt you."

Something passes in her expression. My gut drops. I already have hurt her.

I never will again. It's a promise I make to myself and plan on keeping. As much as I don't deserve for her to reveal anything to me, I can't forget about it. "What did your ex do?"

Her cheeks flush. "You just need to let it go."

"I can't. I told you how my mind works. Now, please, tell me."

She groans. "Fine. He used to say a lot of really nasty things to me. Now please drop it." She pulls her hand out from under mine. She crosses her arms over her chest.

Her words sink in, and my lungs constrict. The things I said to her the previous night while she was half naked and in a vulnerable position slap me in the face. I already regret my actions, but it caused way more damage than I could ever imagine. I didn't just hurt her. I did something to her she spent years trying to recover from. More guilt eats at me, gnawing in my gut. I feel sick. I admit, "Another apology for what I did to you seems pathetic right now." I pull into my parking garage and find a spot. Her quiet demeanor gives me the impression I can't do anything to ever make it right. I get out, cursing myself. I'm not used to screwing up with women. I usually take them out, have some fun, and nothing is stressful. Everything I want from Skylar seems impossible now. I walk around and open her door. I reach in and help her out.

She steps toward me. "Sincere apologies aren't pathetic, Adrian."

"I do mean it, but I'm not used to groveling. I don't know what I can do to make this right between us."

Her lips twitch. "This is you groveling?"

I arch my eyebrows. "Am I not doing a good job?"

She bites on her smile.

"Do you want me to do anything special so you'll forgive me?" I tease, taking advantage of her smile and tone.

"Hmm. Let me think about it. I'll take a rain check."

My hope flairs. "You will?"

Her face falls, and my gut drops. Then she answers, "No. I already forgave you. You can stop apologizing now."

I proceed with caution. "You did?"

She nods. "Mmhmm."

"When?"

"It might have been on your twentieth umbrella. Or maybe it was when you showed me your impressive rose drawing skills. Either way, I decided I won't pretend you don't exist when I'm with Aspen and have to see you."

"What if I want to see you without Aspen?" I blurt out. Blood slams between my ears, waiting for her to answer. It feels like forever passes before she speaks.

She opens her mouth several times. Nervousness fills her expression. My heart sinks when she talks. "I'm not sure if it's a good idea."

Not what I wanted to hear.

But she came to my house.

Minutes pass. She breaks our gaze, but I don't move. When she finally glances up, and her blue eyes peek out from under her long lashes, I see it. She still wants me. She's grappling with herself. I step forward, fist her hair, and palm her ass. I tug her as close to me as I can then lean so close my lips brush hers as I speak. "You said, not sure."

"Yeah." Her heart beats faster against my chest.

"There's room to change your mind, then." It's not a question. It's a fact, and I'm going to take advantage of the in she gave me.

A line forms between her eyes. She doesn't try to move. Her fists open, and she flattens them against my pecs. Her hot breath merges into mine. "Adrian, I..."

"I'm not him. I did the wrong thing, but I'm not him, my printsessa," I firmly state.

"I want to believe you."

"Good. Give me another chance, and I'll show you." I don't wait for her to answer. I use her admittance as permission to kiss her. Unlike the aggressive kisses I gave her the night before, I take my time exploring her mouth. The moment I slide my tongue inside her, she flicks back. I savor every part of her pretty pink mouth like it's my last meal, restraining the beast within me who's ready to ravish her. There's no room for mistakes. I'm not dumb enough to think her returning my kiss means she trusts me again.

The longer my mouth touches her sinful lips, the more desperate I am for her. My hunger grows. I pull back and study her eyes. They've turned heavy, and she breathes harder. It encourages me to take more. I dart my tongue in and out of her mouth faster, losing the ability to analyze what the right move is to regain her trust. Every breath, whimper, and return of my affection feeds something within me. I'm unsure what, but kissing Skylar stirs a part of me I didn't know existed.

"Tomorrow night," I mumble and attack her mouth once more.

"Hmm?" She slides her hands around my neck and lightly grazes her fingernails on my head. Her body trembles against mine.

A rumble builds in my chest. It escapes me, low, desperate for the rest of her. I'm ready to strip her naked and lick every inch of her porcelain skin. The memory of her body, clutching mine, quivering beneath my flesh, consumes me. I want her as mine. I need her as mine, but I still have damage to repair.

"I'll pick you up at six."

She freezes.

I scan her face. "I'm not him. I'll prove it to you." I kiss her again, aggressively using my tongue then studying her eyes. "Tell me yes."

She stays quiet, panting.

I repeat kissing her then looking at her, demanding she agrees to go out with me. Each time I retreat, she breathes harder. I tilt her head more then lick the midline of her neck.

A quiet yet ragged moan vibrates off her. Her nails dig into my scalp. She shudders hard against me.

My erection pulses into her stomach. I knead my hand over her ass cheek, restraining from sticking my palm in her pants. "We're good together," I murmur in her ear then resume tongue fucking her mouth.

Her knees give out. I don't stop, reach for her thighs, and pick her up, sandwiching her between the SUV and me. She wraps her legs around my waist. The heat from her sex penetrates my cock. She circles her hips at a torturous speed, grinding against my erection. I groan, tug her hair, then nibble on her ear before growling, "Admit you don't want me, and I'll stop."

She gasps when I drag my teeth over her beating pulse. "Tell me you don't wish to see me, and I'll take you home." I arch my eyebrow and pull back so she has to stare me in the eye and tell me. When she doesn't answer, I tease my lips against hers, retreating when her tongue swipes my bottom one. "Tomorrow night. Six o'clock."

She leans into my ear, grazing her teeth on my earlobe, continuing to terrorize my dick further. "Okay." The scent of salted caramel and pears tortures me more. Her breath skipping across my neck gives me tingles.

I step back, releasing her. I guide her to my penthouse, staying silent, keeping her back flush to the front of my body in the elevator. Every moment of the short journey to my unit is spent trying to put out the fire burning in my veins. I attempt to convince myself to show her the view and take her home so I don't ruin any progress I've made.

I open my front door and motion for her to pass. She steps inside, and I follow.

"This is beautiful. You had a good designer."

"Dmitri's wife, Anna, designed it," I admit.

"She did a great job. I love the way she mixed the metals with the wood. It's edgy but warm."

I nod, scanning the room.

"Wow. This truly is stunning," she states and goes to the window. Stars fill the sky over the darkness of the lake. Lights glow on buildings, outlining the city. The Ferris wheel on Navy Pier blinks in the distance. "Have you always lived in a penthouse?"

"No. I only bought this one because Maksim split it into fours. Otherwise, it would be too much space for only me." I pick up her hand. "Come. Let me show you something." I lead her through my bedroom and slide the glass wall open then flip the switch. Fire ignites on the glass wall of the balcony. A three-foot wooden ledge hangs a foot over it, as if it were a wide mantle. A pewter rail is on top of the wooden plank at the back edge.

"Wow!" she gapes.

"Anna had them add it last minute. It's what sold me on the place."

"It's incredible," she states and peers over the balcony wall. "Do you sleep with the wall opened up?"

"On a nice night, like tonight, yes. Summer depends on the weather."

She spins into me. "It's amazing, Adrian. I love it."

I don't reply. I stare at her. She's glowing, with all of Chicago lit up and the fire dancing around her. A gust of wind blows her hair. I step forward and push it off her face.

She inhales sharply and focuses on my chest. Her energy penetrates me, creating a buzz I've only felt around her. It happened when we first met. All night, it's been terrorizing my veins.

Her hair is pure silk. I twist it around my fist. Her breathing picks up. I gently tug her hair so she can't avoid me. She licks her lips, and my dick pulses into her stomach. A tiny whimper escapes her mouth. Anxiety and lust swirl in her expression. Her long lashes flick over her orbs several times.

My restraint is gone. She's in my home, standing outside my bedroom. All I want is to show her how good we can be together and prove to her I won't ever be the man I showed her the first time we were together.

"My printsessa."

"Hmm?" She arches an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to kiss you anymore tonight."

She swallows hard. "No?"

I shake my head. "If I kiss you, I'm taking you over to my bed, and you're not leaving all weekend."

A red flush crawls through her cheeks. It makes the blue in her eyes appear more prominent.

My pants become uncomfortable. I trace her cheekbone. "This sexy blush you have going on isn't helping me think decent thoughts right now." More heat scorches her cheeks. Her hot breath is torture. I want it all over my skin, and it pulls me in like a magnet. Instead of backing away, I lean closer, mumbling, "I should take you home."

She tears her eyes away from mine and focuses on my lips then gazes toward the bed. My heart races and my erection throbs. She slowly glances down between us then meets my eyes.

I don't move. If I do, I will have her, and I don't want her regretting me any more than she already does.

I'm a forty-year-old man. Show some restraint.

I'm a forty-year-old man who knows what I want.

Jesus. Why did I have to screw up? I shouldn't even be questioning this. If I hadn't messed up, I wouldn't be standing here with a hard-on. I'd be worshiping her in my bed.

She's not going to give me more chances. I've gotten farther than I thought I'd get tonight.

"I'll take you home." I force myself to step back, but she reaches for my biceps. Her fingers are electric, intensifying the buzz already annihilating my cells. I freeze.

I glance at her hand then into her big doe eyes.

"Earlier, you said, 'Tell me you don't wish to see me, and I'll take you home.'"

"Yes."

She takes a deep breath and cups my cheeks. "I never said I didn't want to see you anymore, so why are you taking me home?"