DontMakeMeBeg

 

 

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Mya1

 

 

 

 

Considering how many things have gone wrong tonight, you’d think it couldn’t get much worse. But apparently we haven’t reached our quota on weirdness for the night. Standing in a hotel room alone with Milo while he talks about screaming during sex takes it to a whole different level. 

Especially since the way he’s watching me makes me feel he’s not going to just let this go. 

“Have you?” he presses again, his eyes locked on mine. 

Which is not happening. I’m not talking about orgasms while he stares at me like that. Just not doing it. 

“I’m hardly a virgin, Milo.”

His face twists into a grimace. “Jesus, don’t say that.”

“What? I just said–“

“What you said was a bullshit attempt to deflect and not answer. Which tells me everything I need to know.” He runs his hands through his hair looking pissed off. Which makes no sense to me.

“How did we go from discussing your bad behavior at dinner to talking about my love life?” My non-existent love life, I think ruefully. 

A guy like Milo probably goes through women like underwear. What would he say if he knew it’s been six months since I’ve been laid? 

Or kissed. Or hugged. Or touched.

Great, now he’s got me thinking about how pathetic I am.  

“I’m just trying to understand what the fuck is happening in the world that a woman like you is having bad sex. Any man lucky enough to see you naked should be putting in the work to take you to O-town every time.”

Something in my expression must tip him off because suddenly he stops pacing and stares at me. “Mya, you’ve had an orgasm before, haven’t you?”

Now we’ve crossed the line from inappropriate to just straight-up embarrassing. 

“Of course I have. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He still looks disturbed but at least he’s no longer looking at me like some kind of space alien. Which is why I have no idea what possesses me to say what I do next. 

“Just not while anyone else is there,” I mumble softly. 

“Fuck me!” he explodes before whirling around to blink at me in disbelief. His mouth opens and closes several times before he makes a strangled growling sound that has me going instantly wet. “Fucking hell.”

“Fucking isn’t the problem,” I snap, mortification at what I’ve admitted starting to sink in. 

Of all the people I could have confided in, why would I tell Milo? For years it’s been my secret shame and the real reason my ex didn’t want to “settle” with me. I’ve read every Cosmo article, tried yoga and hypnosis and even those weird-ass positions in the illustrated Kama Sutra I ordered online. William was so offended when I suggested using a vibrator in bed and he didn’t even seem to like when I touched myself.  

Maybe that was the problem. It all felt like work instead of fun. And right now, it just feels like one more way I don’t measure up. Especially with the way Milo is looking at me. 

“You know what? I’m done talking about this. This has been a long night and we’re probably both going to be out of a job tomorrow once James sobers up and comes to his senses. So for now, I’m going to my room to get comfortable.”

He springs forward and grabs my arm. “Wait, Mya. I’m serious about not leaving yet. I’m pretty sure Christiane is staying on this floor. And she seems predisposed to hate us anyway.”

Fed up with being told what to do, I reach behind me and unzip my dress. “I need to get out of this bra before it cuts off my circulation.” I raise my eyebrows, waiting to see what he’ll do. 

But he shocks the hell out of me when he calls my bluff. Milo grabs one of the discarded dress shirts from the bed and hands it to me. “Change into this. You can order room service and relax just as easily here as you can in your room.”

Clearly, like most men, Milo has no idea what relaxation means for a woman. But I’m just embarrassed and exhausted enough not to care anymore. So I take the shirt and escape into the safe haven of the bathroom. Once the door is closed and locked behind me, I meet my own eyes in the mirror. That was the most ridiculous conversation, but in a strange way cathartic, too. Maybe I just needed to tell someone and Milo happened to be the unlucky bystander when it all came bursting forth. 

Not that he should have acted like it was such a bother to him. I’m the one who’s been sexually frustrated for years, after all. If anyone has cause to be annoyed by this situation, it’s me. 

The bathrooms in this hotel come stocked with all manner of toiletries, so I use the mini facial bar to wash my makeup off. There’s a small hook on the back of the door, so I use that to hang my dress by the straps and put on the shirt Milo gave me. It’s a good thing he’s so tall or there would be no way this thing would fit over my chest, but it’s just big enough. Although I have to unbutton quite a bit at the top so I don’t feel like my boobs are being strangled. 

After pulling the pins out of my bun, I finger comb my hair down around my face. It’s super thick, so it’s easier to keep it braided or in a bun, but when I’m relaxing, I just let it go wild. Milo will just have to deal. He’s the one who wouldn’t let me leave, so if he doesn’t like it, he can bite me.

The man looked like he wanted to bite you anyway.

With that thought, I yank open the bathroom door and march back out into the room. Milo looks up from the mini bar where he’s selected a small bottle. His mouth falls open slightly before he clears his throat and looks away, guiltily. 

“Want a drink?”

“Uh, sure.”

“We have scotch, some dubious-looking wine and vodka.”

I shrug. “Alcohol. Anything that can make me forget the past three hours.”

He’s about to respond when my phone rings. To my surprise, Milo picks it up as if he has every right to know who’s calling me. He tilts the screen so I can see the face. A picture of me and William taken during our last New Year’s Eve flashes on the screen. I take the phone and hit the button to silence the call.

“I never got around to changing the picture on his profile,” I blurt. Then I’m instantly mad at myself for explaining. I don’t have to justify why I have a picture of my ex on my phone. 

“He’s called twice already. Some men really don’t know the meaning of no, do they?”

I climb back on the bed, satisfied when Milo’s eyes follow the movement of my legs. He hasn’t invited me to take over his bed, but oh well. This is what you get when you stand in between a girl and her chill time. I settle back against the pillows and snuggle into the cozy sheets. 

“William wasn’t too good at listening in general,” I admit. 

“Enough about him. What did you think of the rest of the Lavin team? Obviously Christiane hates us. But otherwise?”

To my surprise, for the next hour, we talk about everything related to Lavin Fashions. It’s not a surprise to me that Milo has researched their prior campaigns but he also looked up human interest stories about the brand and found out what their charitable initiatives are. That’s one that I hadn’t thought of yet. Then I tell him about the collaborations Mr. Lavin did before he started the brand. That was something Milo hadn’t thought of. 

And in the midst of it all, I can’t help thinking that we make a pretty damn good team. 

“Can I ask you something?” Milo asks when there’s a lull in the conversation. We’ve been sitting quietly for a few minutes, but it’s a good kind of silence. The comfortable kind where you don’t feel any pressure to perform, you can just be.

“Sure. I mean you’ve already asked the embarrassing stuff, like how I like my orgasms. How much further down the rabbit hole can we go?”

His smile awakens something in me that I didn’t know was dormant, and I press my thighs together to stop the ache. But as usual, Milo is tuned in to everything I’m feeling. His eyes drop to the juncture between my thighs and his blue eyes darken. When he speaks, his voice is one shade above a growl.

“Why did you stay with a guy who didn’t satisfy you? One who made you feel that you had to wear long skirts and hide yourself? I’m trying to understand, but I just don’t get it. You’re so strong. I can’t imagine you taking shit from anybody.”

This is the kind of conversation we probably shouldn’t be having when I’m dressed in only his shirt and snuggled next to him on a bed. Maybe it’s the mini-bar wine stealing away the last fucks I had to give, but I just don’t care anymore.

“Even strong women get lonely,” I say finally. “Will isn’t a bad guy, just an oblivious one. And he wanted something I couldn’t give him. Do you know what he said to me at the end?” 

He turns over so he’s now facing me directly. “What?”

“He said that settling down with me felt too much like settling. Like I was the consolation prize he’d accepted when he couldn’t find anything better.”

If you’d asked me before that moment, I’d have told you I was over it and that Will’s words didn’t have any power over me. But saying it to Milo in that moment was different, like I could actually admit how much it had hurt. 

“And now he’s trying to get you back. You know why?” 

I shake my head through the tears that have suddenly sprung to my eyes.

He tips up my chin. “Because he’s finally wised up and discovered how lucky he was to even have a chance with you. A chance that he won’t get again. You are one of a kind, Mya Taylor. And you are no one’s fucking consolation prize.”

The phone on the bed between us rings again and the picture of Will and me flashes on the screen. Milo looks down at the phone and then up at me. “May I?”

I have no idea what he means, so I shrug. He grabs the phone and swipes right to answer. 

“Yes. No, you have the right number, this is Mya’s phone. This is her fiancé.” 

My mouth falls open.

“That’s right, her fiancé. A guy who is smart enough to know exactly how special she is and how lucky I am to be with her. A chance you won’t have again, so please fuck all the way off and stop calling.” He pulls the phone away, but then before he disconnects, he puts it back to his ear. “And by the way, pal, her kneecaps are fantastic.”

Then he drops the phone back on the bed and his mouth crashes down on mine.

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