Page 163 of Untying the Knot
“Stop,” he says as his thumb drags over my bottom lip. “I know what can happen when your mind takes over, and you’ve been through a lot.” He cups my cheek. “You’ve been through more than you deserve.”
I grip his hand and hold it close to my cheek, leaning in for support. “It doesn’t excuse treating you the way I did.”
“Myla,” he says, forcing my eyes to match his. “I hear your apology, and I thank you, but I’m telling you right now that I understood where you were coming from. When you’re out of control and it feels like there’s nothing you can do about it, you try to control other things around you. You could control our relationship and, because you didn’t want to be hurt or disappointed again, you stepped back. Found an excuse to end things.”
“Yes.” More tears cascade down my cheeks, but these he swipes away with his thumb. “But don’t you see how shitty that is?”
“I saw the woman I love struggling to find her footing. It’s why I didn’t give up on you, why I showed you that I was going to be a constant in your life. I was waiting for you, Myla. I will fucking wait for you forever.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve so much more. I’m just the lucky son of a bitch you chose.” His fingers tilt my mouth up and then he’s kissing me all over again. Possessively.
His grip is tight.
His mouth demanding.
And when his tongue meets mine, I’m lost.
* * *
RYOT
“Do you want to. . . hang out, maybe stay over?” Myla asks as she walks me up to her place after the most intense make-out session of my life.
Right there, in the parking lot of the law office. We couldn’t get enough of each other, and we didn’t stop until it felt like an hour had passed and I was so fucking horny that I was going to burst if we didn’t leave.
Before we went back to her place, we found a food truck and ate some chicken wraps while she looked into the envelope Mr. Tarkin gave her. Inside were documents about her dad’s estate and basically . . . her inheritance. Over two million dollars. Color us both shocked. She’d had no clue, but he had a solid life insurance plan. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock over the whole thing.
“Do I want to come back to your place, uh yeah, babe, I do.” She chuckles as we entwine our fingers and make our way through the front door of her townhome where Nichole is sitting on the edge of the couch.
Myla stumbles to a stop and says, “Nichole, what are you doing here?” From what Myla told me, Nichole has been out of town, and it’s the one reason she asked me to come with her today.
Her eyes fall to our connected hands and then back up at us. “I felt bad being away when I knew you needed me, so my boss sent me home on his private jet. Although, it looks like everything went well,” she says while folding her arms across her chest.
“It . . . it did,” Myla says nervously. “Uh, we were actually going to—”
“Hey, babe, can I speak with Nichole separately?” I ask. I think that’s what needs to be done right now. Things won’t be weird between Myla and Nichole, but things are most definitely awkward between me and Nichole.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Myla says.
“No, I think it is,” Nichole says. “Meet me in the kitchen, Ryot.” And then she takes off.
When she’s out of earshot, Myla turns toward me. “I don’t like this. I know she’s not a fan of yours, and I don’t want her to say anything that will hurt you.”
I grip her chin and say, “Whatever she says to me will not deter me from the fact that I’m in love with you, and nothing is going to change that. Nothing, Myla.” I lean down and press a very light kiss to her lips. “But I need to talk to her because she needs to know where I stand with you.”
“Okay.”
“Now go upstairs, get naked, and I’ll meet you up there soon.”
A smile spreads across her lips. “You want me naked?”
“Baby, I always want you naked.” I spin her around and give her glorious ass a smack. “Now get up there.”
She chuckles and takes off, glancing over her shoulder twice as I watch her. When she’s all the way up the stairs, I head to the kitchen where Nichole is sitting on the kitchen island, one leg crossed over the other, her hands gripping the edge.
“I’m assuming you two are back together,” she says as I lean against the counter across from her.
