Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel (13 page)

Micah’s cellphone ringing breaks a kiss like no other. This kiss we shared matters. It means something. It’s an apology, and it’s his way of accepting my forgiveness. I hear his harsh curse before my eyes open, and I’m staring into his gorgeous smoky grays, just below his black baseball cap. A certain peace washes over me, stealing away the tension I hadn’t known had been there.

I feel better when I’m with you and unwound when I’m not,
he had said.

I guess I feel like that, too.

His strong body is still so close to me, that warm and woodsy scent spiraling around me, and as I gaze upon this passionate and intense man, seeing the possessive way he’s watching me, I know three things for sure: I don’t regret letting Micah into my condo, allowing him to explain, or letting him kiss me. Because Micah didn’t feed me bullshit; I saw this in the way he tensed up when he told me how he feels. The slight clench of his jaw when he admitted he would give me anything to ensure that I didn’t push him away.

I’m shivering with the heat I feel coming off him, as he drags his thumb across my damp mouth. I see how much he wants me. I want him, too. But the better part of my judgment reminds me to remain careful with him. He can hurt me. We need to take this slow.

A blast of cold air washes over me as he steps back and frowns, reaching into his pocket. He looks at the screen before glancing at me. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.” Eyes on me, he places his phone to his ear. “Holt.” A pause. “Yes.” Another pause and then a sigh. “Go on.”

I mirror his frustrated sigh when he moves into my kitchen, talking business.

All the same, I realize the break is necessary, and with the distance, I begin to think again. I don’t have everything figured out when it comes to Micah. My heart doesn’t feel entirely safe with him, but it wants to.

Again,
baby steps,
I remind myself.

I watch him as he’s staring out my kitchen window. He appears so strong standing there, looking out into the city he conquered, but I see now that his shields are an illusion. I know that because of when he said,
Please. Stop.
He couldn’t hide his wounds then and they are raw, bleeding still. Micah’s an enigma and one with a dark past. And whatever it involves, I think together we can try to heal his demons. I’m not going into this relationship blind, but I’m not going into it closed off either.

A loud beep snaps me to consciousness, and I still see him standing by the window. I hurry into my office, grab my cellphone off the desk, seeing an email from Holt. Reminded of Liv’s email earlier, I set to printing off the details about Kevin’s house before returning to the living room.

Micah is leaning against my kitchen island, eyes on me when I enter the room. I smile at how he’s watching my every move. God, it’s incredible to be the focus of
his
intensity. My knees loosen, feeling a little weak before I drop down onto my oversized beige chair in the corner of my living room and drape both legs over the side. I begin reading the document and memorize every single detail that I’ll need to tell the Lowes tomorrow.

When I reach all of the recent upgrades, a note is thrust in front of me.

Take off your pants.

I jerk my head up and mouth,
“What?”
to Micah.

He winks, pointing to the note as his reply.

He’s serious. That I don’t doubt.

A mix of butterflies and heat clench my stomach. Something foreign inside tells me to do this. Maybe it’s the devilish curve of his mouth, the commanding way he’s watching me, or the smolder in his eyes, but I’m removing my pants and panties without even thinking about it.

I toss both aside, when Micah says into the phone, “We have room at Holt to move in that direction?” He grabs one ankle, placing it high on the armrest, then grabs the other and positions it on the other armrest. My face flushes
hot
as I’m spread wide while he adds, “Does the space need any upgrades?”

I’m shaking at the way he’s looking between my thighs. Hungry. Urgent. Masculine satisfaction. I like the way he wants me. I love the way he
needs
me. I swallow deeply as he steps closer to the chair, leaning against the armrest. My heart is beating in my chest and I can hear it pound in my ears when he inserts two fingers into his mouth, soaking them with saliva before he adds, “That should work out fine.”

I stifle a moan, holding my breath, when he drags his index finger over my slick heat. His grin widens as he runs his finger down my soaked folds. He knows, and I know, that the second he handed me the note I became wet for him. I exhale deeply when his finger enters me. And I can’t fight the moan when a second finger joins the first, moving slowly in and out, dragging sensations out of me. His eyes dance when he begins shifting his fingers faster now, and I don’t know how he makes this feel so good. It’s intense and incredible, somehow building more and more as the seconds pass.

“How about the sign I requested?”

His voice is steady, but I can’t think. I slap a hand over my mouth, a loud moan threatening to escape, as he is moving his fingers even faster now. Heaviness fills deep inside me, loosening my muscles and then tightening them a second later. He begins thrusting his fingers now, harder and harder, up and down. I reach for his wrist with both hands as the sounds coming from my body are loud enough I fear the person on the phone might hear. His eyes snap to mine and narrow.

With one of his hands, he takes my two from his wrist and moves them onto my stomach, pinning them down firmly, silently telling me to stay put. Then his fingers return, thrusting inside me, moving in and out, until my jaw goes slack and a soft moan breathes from my mouth.

“Good.” He increases the speed and roughness of his fingers now. I’m clenching my hands into fists and lifting my bottom off the chair, when he calmly adds, “Go ahead with that plan.”

My eyes are watering and I can barely see Micah standing there holding his phone. Nor can I hear a word he’s saying. All I can do is melt for him. My orgasm is rolling over me,
again and again,
and I lose myself entirely, until I hear, “Yes, I’m here.”

When I become more aware, Micah’s smiling, a big wide grin at me. “I must have lost a connection,” he says into the phone, and I can only assume he put the call on hold, muting my noises over the last few seconds. He winks at me before he adds, “What did I miss?”

While he listens to whomever it is speaking, he lifts his fingers to his mouth—the fingers that had rendered me boneless—and his eyes shut when he drags them against his tongue. I’m still quivering, but now I think I’m shaking because of
this.
It’s like giving me pleasure gets him off. The way he touches me is so unselfish, so powerful. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted in a lover. And now I fully believe that Micah has forever ruined me for any other man.

No one can possibly compare.

With the same hand that he used to make me feel so good, he takes my chin in his grip, squeezes the flesh, and my lungs expand with deep, satisfied breaths. I love how he makes me feel like I’m being
seen
when he looks at me
.
It makes me feel important, sexy…
he
makes me feel special.

It does strange things to my belly and to my heart.

But it’s a statement, too. Because now I know this is his compromise, and that’s what he’s showing me. Business might happen and interrupt special moments between us, but I’ll never be forgotten and I’ll always come first.

Somehow that’s enough for me.

Many hours later, I settle in beside the all-glass shower, wearing only my black workout pants, and lean against the vanity mirror above the sink. Staring at the closed bathroom door, I can’t put off the inevitable any longer. In order for me to forge ahead with Allie, I need to settle something first.

I reach for my phone inside my pants pocket and quickly scan my contacts, then I press
Call.

The phone rings twice before I hear “Darius” through the speaker.

“It’s Micah,” I tell him, turning around to the mirror behind me, seeing the beads of sweat glistening on my torso, and feeling the dampness from Allie’s orgasm still on my sac. “Could we meet up tomorrow? I have something to discuss with you.”

A pause. Then, “Has something come up with Richardson?”

I thrust my hand through my damp hair, pushing the strands off my forehead. “It’s not about business and shouldn’t be discussed on the phone.” No,
this
needs to be discussed face-to-face.

“When and where?” Darius asks, voice full with wonder, which no doubt stems from my unexpected phone call.

“My house at noon.”

“See you then.”

I wait for Darius to hang up first and then turn off my phone for the rest of the night, giving Allie my time. I leave the bathroom and move into the bedroom, placing my cell on the nightstand table. Then, returning to Allie in the kitchen, I follow the light spilling into the hallway.

I find her sitting cross-legged in front of the refrigerator, a thin sheet around her torso hiding her skin from me. Obviously sensing me, she glances up; her cheeks are still flushed, her lips a little swollen from my kisses. “Is everything okay?” she asks.

I’m not sure what she sees on my face, but her ability to see through me is what makes her so
special.
“It will be,” I reply, dropping down next to her on the cool ceramic floor.

Soft blues music is coming from the iPod player in the living room, the only light is from the open refrigerator, and my focus is on this intriguing woman who makes me want to do strange things. “Is this a usual habit for you?” I ask her.

“Well, no.” Her long dark hair trails over her bare shoulders when she grabs a piece of cold broccoli from the take-out container of cashew chicken. “This isn’t a usual habit for me. I typically would warm up our food.” She takes a small bite and then smiles. “But you’re to blame. Four orgasms have left me hungry and this is what you get.”

I chuckle and reach for a carrot.

She beats me to it, feeding me. “No complaining.”

“Oh, I’m not, believe me,” I reply, chewing the carrot.

She reaches for another and feeds me again. “Besides, don’t you ever do anything random like this?”

I arch a brow at her. “Random?” I chew the carrot and swallow, then shake my head. “No, I can’t say I do much that’s random.”

“Hmm” is all she says.

I’m not sure what’s on that pretty little mind of hers, but I know exactly what’s on mine. “Tomorrow night I’m hosting a gala at
Phoenix
for my charity that supports breast cancer research. Would you come with me?”

She’s reaching for more food when she pauses halfway and looks at me. “A gala on a Monday night? That’s unusual.”

I glance away from her, grabbing a piece of chicken, not shocked that out of everything I said she focused on the one thing I didn’t say. “The event falls on a different day every year.”

Of course she doesn’t miss the importance of my declaration. “An anniversary of something, then?”

“My mother’s death.”

Allie’s eyes soften naturally in the way that they do. “That’s a sweet way to honor her and make what could be a sad day a little brighter.” I attempt to smile in gratitude that she understands me, but when she adds, “I’m just not sure I’m ready to go so…
public,
” it’s impossible to hide my disappointment.

“Why?” I gently ask.

She sighs. “It would change a lot for me. I couldn’t hide…”

I stay silent, reaching for a cashew and tossing it in my mouth, allowing her to lead this conversation. My focus narrows on
her,
and I hear no sounds in her condo but her shallow breaths. The light coming from the fridge highlights the side of her bowed head, and the long strands of her hair are nearly curtaining her expression from me, yet not enough to hide her pained stare.

She draws in a huge deep breath before addressing me again. “I have to tell you something that I probably should’ve told you before.” Her head lifts to me, her voice strong. “Darius Bennett is my half-brother.”

I ponder how to deal with her honesty. I decide there are enough secrets between us on my end, no need to drag hers into it. “Yes. I know.”

Her brows draw together. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it was an unimportant detail.” And I would be breaking my word to Darius if I told her without her acknowledging the truth first. Dating Allie is a complication that I need to sort out with Darius, but I’d never given him my word that I wouldn’t date Allie; I’d only given him my word that I wouldn’t tell her unprompted that I knew of their connection.

She cocks her head, watching me intently before grabbing out a piece of chicken from the container and feeding it to me. “It doesn’t bother you that I never told you?”

“Why would it?” I finish chewing, thinking I have too many of my own secrets than to pass judgment on someone else for having some. “But it does make me curious as to why you would hide such a thing about yourself.”

“Now,
that
is a complicated answer.” She hesitates while she grabs a cashew and slides it between her pouty lips. “Sometimes when people know that I’m Darius’s half-sister, it can change their perception of me.”

“Which you don’t like?”

She half shrugs. “It’s not the life I’m used to. All the fame. All the money. I didn’t grow up like that.”

Darius never told me details about Allie’s life, only that she was his half-sister. “What do you mean exactly?”

“I mean that I lived very simply growing up,” she explains. “We didn’t buy designer clothes, or have fancy dinner parties, or have housekeepers and things like that. We had hand-me-downs from my mother’s friends, family dinners every night, and weekly chores. I didn’t know any other way until after my parents died in a plane crash when I was fifteen.”

I stroke her knee, the bare skin closest to me. “I’m sorry you lost them, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs again. “You of anyone knows that sometimes life hands you a shit deal and you have to pick up your socks and move on.”

“
This
is something I wish we didn’t have in a common.”

She gives me a sad smile, reaches for a piece of chicken and feeds me. “Anyway, my mom taught me the importance of the little things in life. Things that often get missed when money is involved. When she was married to Darius’s father, she told me, she learned quick that happiness isn’t something that can be bought. So, it was weird for me when I moved in with Darius.”

I’m even more curious about her past now. “Darius took you in after your parents passed away, then?”

“He was kind of a hero to me.” She smiles sweetly, and the love for Darius is there in the depths of her eyes. “When he heard that I would go into foster care if a family member didn’t step in, he came forward, without ever having met me before.”

This I didn’t know. I assumed Darius would be overprotective as her half-brother, now it appears he’s a father figure to her, too. “Why didn’t you meet him before?” I ask, wanting a full understanding of their family dynamic before our meeting tomorrow.

“Long story short, his mega-rich father made sure my mom couldn’t see Darius again, as revenge for divorcing him.”

I hear the distaste that fills her voice. And now I’m to beginning to see why Allie doesn’t value monetary things. Money ruined her family.

I listen intently as she continues. “Darius tried his best for me, but he was also a twenty-five-year-old guy who didn’t know what in the hell to do with a fifteen-year-old girl suddenly living in his house.”

“You seem to have turned out okay,” I state.

She laughs softly. “Thanks. I think so, too.” The sweet sounds of her amusement fade away with a long heavy sigh. “But because I’ve experienced both lifestyles, I learned I prefer living simply.”

“Why?”

She reaches for another broccoli and feeds me. “The thing that bothered me most is that once I had money, people started to look at me differently—wanting things from me.” When I cock my head, confused, she explains, “You know, they didn’t like me for me but because of the money I had in the bank.”

I silently nod, knowing the look she’s speaking of, because I see it daily. It happens when a person stops looking at you like you’re an equal. When a person gravitates to you for all the wrong reasons. When they don’t want to be your friend out of genuine desire, but because your friendship gives them something. I realize, for the first time, this is what I like about Allie: she doesn’t look at me like that.

She shrugs and adds, “I know it’s kinda weird and all, but I like being
seen.
I need to be seen for who I am.”

I stroke her bare knee again. “I don’t think that’s weird at all.”

“You don’t?”

I shake my head slowly. “No, I don’t.”

She gives me her sweet smile, a gleam in her eye. “Well, after I moved out on my own, I decided to stick to the life I grew up with instead of the life Darius could give me. Now I’m surrounded by people who see
me,
and love me for who I am, not what I represent.” She tosses a piece of chicken into her mouth. “That’s why I don’t reveal that we’re sister and brother.”

And until we’re serious, I can’t take that risk,
is what she doesn’t need to say. “You don’t need to explain further,” I say, gently. “I understand.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” I lean forward, dragging my knuckles across her warm cheek. “You’ll be put under a microscope the second the tabloids learn of you. And I’d give it less than twenty-four hours before they know everything about you, so yes, I understand why you want to protect yourself.” Because I protect my secrets too—only my reasons for doing that are far less pure than hers.

She leans into my hand. “I’m not saying never, okay? Just not right now. I need a little time to figure all this out and tell the people I need to about Darius.”

I nod, not needing to hear more. I get it.

“Wait…” Her head suddenly moves away from my hand, hard eyes probing mine. “If you knew about Darius, does that mean that he knows about us?”

“He doesn’t yet, but I plan to tell him tomorrow.”

“But you don’t—”

I press my finger against her lips. “I do business with him, Allie. It’s out of respect, not because I need his blessing.”

She watches me for a moment and then kisses my finger before leaning away. “I guess you’re right. Besides, he’ll probably be thrilled about this.”

I sincerely doubt that. “How so?”

“Because you
are
rich so he’ll stop worrying I’m one step away from becoming homeless.”

I chuckle softly, understanding Darius’s point of view. I would love to give Allie a hired driver, ensuring she’s always safe. Give her a higher income to take away worries of money, because I can. To set her up in a house that I think she deserves. But I also like the fact that Allie doesn’t need any of those things to be happy, and I like that she doesn’t expect me to take care of her. There’s something very sexy about her strength and independence.

I grab a piece of chicken, tossing it into my mouth, chewing it longer than necessary, allowing me to think over the meeting with Darius tomorrow. Allie believes he’ll accept our relationship easily. I know he won’t. But I must do whatever necessary to ensure he’ll be okay with this. I can’t
not
have her, and I will never walk away. I tried that once. It sent me on a bender, where all of me shattered.

“Okay, enough with all the serious stuff,” Allie says, drawing my attention. “Tell me what Micah Holt does for fun.”

“Mixed martial arts.” I grin, once again hearing the music coming from the living room. “Levi and I get into the cage daily.”

She rolls her eyes. “I said
fun.
I can’t imagine getting your ass kicked by your driver is enjoyable.”

“First, Levi is more family than employee. Second, he rarely kicks my ass.” I had to get that straight. “But to give you the answer you want, when I can, I spend some time at a good friend’s pub. Have you ever been to O’Keefe’s?”

She nods. “Liv loves that place. We’ve been there a bunch of times.”

“Gabe, my roommate at Harvard, owns it.”

“Cool.” She gazes at me firmly, chewing the food in her mouth. “What else?”

“Charity events.”

“What else?”

I stare at her, and even I acknowledge how pathetic I’ve become, not having more answers to give her. All I do is work, or network with others who help me make money.

“That’s it?” she asks, eyes wide.

I nod.

She pinches her lips, regarding me. “We need to fix this immediately.” She jumps to her feet, the sheet trailing after her while she’s moving toward her bedroom. “Come on. We gotta get dressed.”

“Where are we going?” I rise to my feet.

She peeks over her shoulder. “To do the unthinkable for Micah Holt.”

“Oh, yeah.” I grin at her. “What’s that?”

“Something random.”