The Enemy in My Bed by L.K. Shaw
Chapter 17
Mila
I spendanother night and day alone. Despite what Brenna’s husband said about not hurting her, I still worry that she’s being punished for her obvious defiance in coming to see me. If her husband is anything like Pierce, then I may have a right to be concerned. My stomach dips with nausea. Will she really come back like she said?
The front door alarm beeps, and my heart stops as I wait for whoever is going to step through it. Pierce’s familiar imposing figure appears, and that stupid organ in my chest picks up the pace and the fluttering sensation starts in my stomach. How is it possible for me to have missed him? The man who torments me, yet makes me ache.
I rise from the couch as he moves from the entryway into the living room. He doesn’t stop until he’s mere feet from me. My head tips back to stare up at him. His arm twitches like he means to reach out to me, but catches himself. Instead, he returns my stare with such intensity and heat, my center throbs. Do I want him to touch me?
“I meant to be here sooner,” he finally says, surprising me with its sincerity. “I’ve had a few things I needed to take care of.”
“I understand,” I whisper back.
“I’m having a meal delivered here shortly. I thought we could sit out on the patio and eat supper together.”
My heart races even faster. Outside. Like a date? Don’t be stupid, Mila. My eyes search his face for any signs of deceit, but as usual, I can’t read him. “I’d like that. I’m starting to go a bit stir crazy in here,” I admit. “It’s been so long since I’ve been outside soaking up the sunlight and breathing in the city air.”
“The city air that smells like garbage, you mean?” he chuckles that rusty sound that is beginning to grow on me.
I shrug. “If it means sitting peacefully with the flowers and imagining, for a moment, that I’m free—that I’m happy—then yes, I’ll breathe in every scent this wonderful city has to offer.”
Pierce’s eyes shutter, and I almost regret my words. I don’t though. I can’t. No matter how uncomfortable they make him.
Finally, he moves around me and to the French doors, punching in the security code. He opens the doors wide, faces me, and sweeps his hand out for me to proceed.
I only hesitate for a second. I cross the living room, brush past him, and step out onto the large square cement patio. I stop directly in the middle of it, tilt my head back to look up into the sky, and take a deep breath in, filling my lungs with the warm, late spring air. The sun shines down, heating my face. I close my eyes and soak it all up.
Only once I’ve breathed in my fill do I tip my head down and open my eyes, turning to face the man still standing just inside the house. Pierce’s gaze is laser-focused on me.
“Thank you for bringing me out here.”
He dips his head. “You’re welcome.”
The first steps onto the well manicured lawn tickle the soles of my feet. I stroll leisurely around the yard, stopping here and there to admire the flowers. I gently cup the flowering bud of a gorgeous white gardenia, inhaling the creamy spiciness of it. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I’m aware of Pierce’s gaze following my every move.
I smell every flower I come across, drinking in the scents to hold me over. Who knows if, or when, I’ll be allowed out here again. There’s a knock on the front door. Pierce eyes me critically and then heads into the house to answer it. Does he think I’m going to try and scale the fence to escape? As much as I’d like to, I understand the futility of it.
Moments later he re-appears with a large brown paper bag in one hand and the same white plastic bag from a couple days ago. Already, my mouth is watering for dessert.
“Eager for more tiramisu?” he teases, as though reading the craving in my expression.
“Yes,” I admit with a smile, not even the least bit ashamed.
I meet him at the square glass-topped table and help him unpack the food. Everything smells delicious and reminds me how hungry I am.
“Sit. I’ll finish,” he instructs.
I do as he says, and soon there are several open containers with more food than I could eat in a day. “It all looks delicious.”
Pierce dishes out a little bit of everything—from spaghetti to lasagna to what I think is chicken parmigiana—onto my plate. “I’ll never be able to eat all this,” I groan.
“Whatever you don’t, I’ll finish.”
We settle down for a lovely meal. I eat as much as I can before having to push my plate away from me. As he said, Pierce takes care of the food I’d left. In the distance, children yell and play. Someone mows their yard. All around us are everyday sounds of a neighborhood completely different from where I live. I don’t even feel like I’m still in Brooklyn.
I cast several sly glances in Pierce’s direction. This evening has been everything I imagine a real date would be. Not that I would know.
“Everything all right?” he asks.
I blink away the self-pity and meet his gaze. “It was good.”
“I didn’t mean the food. You had this look on your face.”
My cheeks heat. “I was just thinking about my sister. Missing her, I guess.”
He sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. “Tell me about her.”
A fond smile crosses my face as I bring Anya to mind. “She’s like most teenage girls her age, I guess. Boy crazy. Really into fashion. Before she disappeared, she was a budding seamstress. She’s seen every episode of that reality television show featuring clothing designers who compete for a million dollars.” My breath catches. I’ll probably never see her again. “I try not to think about what she’s going through. If she’s scared. Hurt. Dead. She’s barely eighteen years old. She didn’t deserve this.”
Wetness falls into my arm. I reach up and hastily swipe away the tears. I can’t start crying, because if I do, I may never stop. A warm hand covers mine, and I look up at Pierce.
“I’m going to get her back for you,” he vows. There’s an expression of such determination on his face. A feeling sparks to life. It’s still only a tiny ember, one I’m afraid to nurture. It’s hope.
I rise from my chair and crawl into Pierce’s lap, straddling his hips. His pupils flare and those brown eyes darken to match them in color. My arms circle his neck, and I press my lips to his. He opens for me and my tongue tentatively flicks against his. It doesn’t take a moment before his powerful hands grip my waist and he takes control.
The kiss goes on and on until I pull back, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. I lean a little away from him, grasp the hem of my shirt, and pull it over my head. I drop it on the ground, and then my lips meet Pierce’s again. I rock my hips, grinding myself against him in invitation. One he doesn’t seem to be accepting.
Undeterred, I move my mouth from his and place kisses along his jaw. My eyes meet his, and slowly I climb off him. I rearrange my shirt to resemble a small pillow and kneel on it. Pierce stares down at me through hooded eyes, and does nothing to stop my trembling fingers from moving to his waistband. I undo his pants and pull out his cock.
Using the little experience I have, I tighten my grip and stroke him up and down a few times before finally lowering my head and taking him in my mouth. My moves are unpracticed, as I bob up and down his length, swallowing as much of it as I can. I raise my eyes to meet Pierce’s, trying to gauge his reaction. His features are tight, but the hand suddenly palming the back of my head makes me think he’s enjoying this. To my surprise, so am I.
There’s a heaviness deep inside me, a throbbing pulse. I want to reach inside my shorts and touch myself. I don’t. Instead, I focus on Pierce’s pleasure. My mouth opens as wide as I can get it, and I press farther down his cock, trying to swallow more of him. He groans and hits the back of my throat, I cough and gag, pulling up a little. He’s so thick and long I’m not sure I can take more.
Using my mouth and hand together, I suck and squeeze, gripping his shaft. Pierce tightens his fingers in my hair. I wait for him to start jerking my head down farther and faster, but he continues to let me set the rhythm. My movements grow a little faster and more coordinated.
Saliva pools over my fist and drips over the sides to coat his entire length. My jaw grows tired, but still I suck until, finally, Pierce’s body stiffens and he groans out his release. His come fills my mouth, and I swallow as much as I can.
A sense of satisfaction fills me that I was able to please him.
There wasn’t anything else I could do to thank him for helping my sister except this.
