At least, not yet.
Finding a t-shirt, I throw it to her, instantly hating myself for watching her catch it.
“My sister has some clothes in her room. I’ll see if she has any sweatpants for you.”
I nearly laugh when her look of panic at the mention of my sister.
“She’s away at college. Don’t stress.”
I nearly jog out of the room, trying to escape a very naked Mila Williams and my urges. Fuck, if she was any other girl, I’d have dicked her down weeks ago when she asked me to.
It doesn’t take long to find some black leggings Xana had in her drawers. I just have to make a mental note to remember where she had them because that anal-retentive little shit will know I had gone in her room. And the last thing I want to do is tell her I had a woman in our house.
I don’t bring women home—too intimate.
When I get back to my bedroom, Mila is gone. Her clothes are still strewn around the room, and the shirt I gave her is nowhere in sight. A mix of panic and anger settles into my gut as I assume she just walked away from me again. I leave the room, seeing the light coming from the kitchen and her shadow shifting around in the hallway.
My steps falter when I reach the kitchen’s threshold. Mila stands on her tiptoes, reaching into a cupboard for a cup. I should probably help her, but I’m lost watching the hem of my shirt lift as her arms stretch, giving me the perfect view of her pert ass.
Her face is set in determination. She wrinkles her nose, and her tongue pokes at the corner of her mouth. I stifle a laugh, giving my cock a squeeze, willing it to stand the fuck down before walking over and plucking the prized cup from the cupboard.
She tries to grab the cup from my hand and huffs in annoyance as I pull it away. Splaying my hand on her stomach, I draw her back against my chest.
Holding the cup above her head, I bend down and kiss her neck.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get fucked.”
My cock twitches at the words that leave my mouth, and she presses her ass hard against it.
“Go, sit,” I say, handing her the leggings instead.
Mila glares at me over her shoulder when I release her. She unceremoniously plops onto the chair at the island after pulling up the pants, and my victory winning this argument feels bittersweet. It seems her small nap has sobered her up a little bit, but with the way she still reeks of the alcohol pumping out of her pores, she must have cotton-mouth like a motherfucker.
I fill the cup and slide it over to her. When the cool water hits her mouth, she hums that sultry sound she makes when my tongue or fingers are buried in her tight cunt.
“Easy now,” I warn, tipping the cup back down, slowing the flow of the water. “I draw the line at cleaning up vomit.”
She sets down the half-empty glass, and I pick it up to top it off. There’s not an ounce of exhaustion in her eyes anymore. I imagine we’re going to be up for a while. When I turn around to hand her the refilled glass, I notice she’s worrying her lip and fidgeting with the shirt sleeve.
“What?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow.
Mila’s body stiffens, not realizing she is showing me something she doesn’t want me to see. I thank the alcohol still lingering in her system for throwing off that stony mask she wears so well.
“Why?” she asks, eyes darting everywhere that isn’t on me. “Why won’t you fuck me?”
I watch as she twists her glass around her fingers, unease settling on her face.
I know that look. I felt it on my own face when she chose Bastian over me. My rejection stings and I can imagine she’s as un-used to it as I am. I can’t help the chuckle that rumbles deep in my chest.
Rounding the island, I turn her body to face mine. She spreads her legs, letting me step between them. Gripping her chin, I raise it so I can place a chaste kiss on her full lips and let it linger before pulling away slightly.
“Do you think I don’t want you, Little Warrior?”
Mila’s eyes open at my question, but I don’t require an answer. I know she won’t give me one. And maybe it’s fucked up of me, but I relish the insecurity I’ve instilled in someone who exudes confidence. It just shows me exactly how under her skin I am.
“I want you more than you can ever imagine. When I have all of you, you can have all of me. You’re worth more than just a fuck, and this is the only way I know how to give you a piece of me I have given no one else: my respect.”
More questions burn in her eyes as she blinks up at me. A clear mixture of understanding, confusion, and the usual irritability flashes behind her emerald greens, settling on an impassive expression as the alcohol slowly makes its way through her system.