Entice

Chapter Twelve

Chase

It was officially the worst wedding night in the history of wedding nights. Mil stared at the door after Nixon had slammed it shut. It pissed me off that he’d treat her that way. I swear, I almost shot him, but then again, Nixon never did anything just to do it. I was just too blinded by rage to care about the why or how. I wanted to fix things — I wanted Mil to be okay. I needed her to stop looking like I’d just run over her puppy — repeatedly.

“You should take a shower,” I whispered, trying to sound gentle when really all I was able to do was sound arrogant and controlling.

“Why?” Mil glanced down at herself and snickered. “Am I dirty?”

“You’re lucky I’m tired as hell, otherwise I would have used that opportunity to piss you off even more by making some sort of wise-ass sexual comment.”

“Counting my stars.” Mil licked her lips, her eyes still trained on the door.

Everyone knew how much it infuriated me when people went into shock. Call me crazy, fine. But I hated inaction. I hated when people didn’t fight, when they were passive as hell. When they didn’t march toward doom and thrust their fists into the air. So what if it made me weird? That’s how I survived. I ran head first into battle, not caring that I was David and the world was my Goliath. So watching Mil stare at the door as if just waiting for someone else to come back in the room and try to… kill her — pissed. Me. Off. Didn’t she trust me to protect her? To protect us?

“Get up.” I grabbed her elbow and helped her to her feet.

She stood, her eyes narrowing in on me. There’s that spark. Well, I was either going to get shot or make everything better.

I was banking on getting shot — I rarely made things better.

There went nothing. I cupped her chin firmly between my fingers. “Look at me.”

“I am, you ass.” Her eyes blazed with fury.

“You know you can always call me sir if you get tired of calling me ass. I respond to both.”

“Tell you what. Every time I curse, just imagine I’m referring to you. That way you won’t get confused, I know how you meatheads can be.”

“Aw, now you’re just trying to butter me up.” I released her chin and pulled her body against mine. The contact was hot — soothing to my very core. She tried to push against me, but I had her body locked with my arms. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What? Now that Nixon’s gone, are you going to threaten me too?”

“No,” I said quietly. “Just the opposite.”

“Opposite? So you plan on showering me with compliments?”

“Hell, yeah.” My lips grazed her ear. “I plan on showering you with lots of things. Compliments, gifts, affection, a kick-ass gun—”

She relaxed against my chest, but only slightly. One exhale. She gave me one exhale.

“But most of all… I plan on giving you something you need more than air right now.”

“How would you know what I need?” Her voice pleaded; it was the type of tone you hear people use when they hate admitting weakness but secretly hope to God you’ll agree to be their strength.

“Reassurance.” I nipped her ear and moved my lips down her neck, twirling pieces of dark hair with my left hand while my right held her tight against me. “Mil…”

She stiffened, then relaxed, then stiffened again. Taming her was like trying to steal a cheetah from the wild and expecting it not to eat you.

“You. Are. Safe.” I couldn’t stop kissing her neck. It was like a drug. Shit, I felt like one of those crazy vampires that stare at people’s veins. I watched blood pulse at the base of her neck, and I wanted to touch it with my tongue. I wanted to see what it would feel like — to taste what made her heart beat, to touch the location that gave her life.

I kissed her again.

Her body slumped against mine.

My hands shook as I pulled back and cupped her face so that her mouth was inches from mine. What the hell was wrong with me?

Her eyes hooded as she locked her gaze on my lips.

“Tell me what you want,” I whispered, hoping, praying, begging it would align with what I wanted. For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t conjuring up images of Trace. Mil’s body trembled beneath my touch.

“I think,” she whispered. “That a shower would be a good idea.”

“Alright.” I didn’t release her.

Mil didn’t move either.

A knock at the door jolted us apart from one another like we were teenagers just about to do the deed under the watchful eyes of a parent.

I held my finger to my lips as I grabbed my gun, took off the safety, and bent down to look through the peephole.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I opened the door.

Sergio handed me a bottle of whiskey. “Figured you might need this tonight. Everything’s been taken care of, enjoy your… festivities.”

“Wow, worse choice of words a person could come up with.”

“Yeah, well.” He tried to peer past me, but I moved so he couldn’t see Mil. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m married. Fun and me don’t really fit in the same sentence anymore. Now go bother someone else.”

With a salute, Sergio turned on his heel and thrust his hands in his pockets, whistling the entire way to the elevator.

I shut the door and leaned against it.

“Who was it?” Mil asked.

“No one.”

“Oh.” Her voice was quiet. “I’ll just take a shower then.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” she half yelled.

Why the hell did she sound so dejected and upset? I turned around just in time to see her half-naked form as she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.