Shut Up and Kiss Me Read online

  Whipping around, nearly tripping over his own feet as he lunged for her, he grabbed hold of her forearm and yanked her back to face him. Her bare arm was slippery, causing him to nearly lose his hold on her. Grabbing onto her other arm, he forced her to face him and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

  “I love you,” he hissed, staring down into her face, her cheeks wet and flushed, “and before you run off to God-only-knows-where and leave me standing here like a fucking fool, you owe me some sort of an explanation.”

  Mila froze. Her body, her gaze, even her breath seemed to freeze. Then slowly, while the rain continued to downpour all around them, while the taxi driver began to call out to them, while irritated people bumped and pushed their way around them, Mila blinked.

  “What?” she whispered, the lone word nearly drowned out by the thunder erupting from above.

  Gritting his teeth, Will released her only to grab hold of her purse and pull it from her now weakened grip. Leaving her standing there, he turned away while freeing his wallet from his back pocket. After tossing a fifty-dollar bill inside the cab, he stalked around to the back of the taxi and began pulling her bags from the trunk. With her purse looped over his shoulder, he began dragging the two massive suitcases back toward her building and up the stairs. Setting them both inside the small foyer, he made his way back into the rain to scoop up the fallen bag she’d sent flying down the stairs. When he was done stacking her belongings, he turned to face her. She hadn’t yet moved. The taxi was now pulling away, and Mila was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, the rain still pummeling her as she stared up at him, no longer panicked but with a somewhat dazed expression.

  Feeling slightly calmer now himself, knowing that at least for the moment he had made her stop running, he had made her listen to him, and that maybe this nightmare would be over soon, he jogged back down the steps toward her. Reaching her quickly, he took her hand in his. Meaning to lead her back inside and out of the rain, he tugged on her arm and began to turn.

  “You love me?” she whispered.

  Will turned back around, seeing her beautiful face streaked with tears and her mesmerizing eyes blinking up at him.

  Yes, he’d said the L word, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. And it was too late to unsay it. And now, whatever the consequences were going to be, he’d have to deal with them. He hadn’t known he was going to say it, he hadn’t really thought about it—not until the words tumbled out of his mouth and he realized that yes, he did in fact love this woman completely. He had never said it to a woman before, and until now hadn’t really thought about what the repercussions could be.

  “I do,” he said, swallowing back the unease that threatened. “You’re a smart, funny, and beautiful woman, Mila—the kind of woman I’ve been looking for my entire life.”

  “But we just met,” she stammered. “How can you—”

  “Because,” he interrupted, “when it’s right, it’s right. And this is right, I feel it. Me and you, Mila, I feel this.” He took a steadying breath before continuing. “So whatever is going on with you, I want to help. You need to let me help you. Just talk to me, Mila. Tell me what’s going on, because I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t want you to go anywhere, either.”

  Her eyelids shuttered, and all at once her entire body seemed to deflate. But he was far from done. Feeling more impassioned than he could ever remember feeling before, experiencing a freeing fullness within him that he didn’t think existed until that very moment, he stepped forward, invading every last inch of her personal space, and hugged her body to his.

  Another round of thunder rumbled through the skies, followed by a flash of lightning. Shivering, Mila molded herself to him, her arms encircling his waist. Looking up at him through several thick clumps of wet hair hanging in front of her face, her red-rimmed, bloodshot gaze met his.

  “I love you, too,” she murmured, seeming shocked by her own admission. “I love you, Will,” she said again, this time with more confidence.

  It was a damn confounding moment for Will. On one hand, he was experiencing total and utter joy; and on the other, he was still feeling wildly confused and somewhat slighted that she had intended to just leave him and never come back, with no explanation or goodbye. He had a million questions that needed answers, but by the looks of her—exhausted, emotionally spent, and reeling from everything that had just taken place—now wasn’t the right time to ask them.

  Shut up, he told himself, and kiss her.

  He moved a hand to cup her cheek, and tilted her face up toward him, letting the cold rain splash against her warm lips. It was slow kiss at first, tentative and soft, him simply nudging his mouth against hers. Then Mila took control, deepening their kiss further and further until it seemed that her once tumultuous emotions causing her to run from him were now driving her to him.

  Her hands slid up under his jacket and shirt, prying the wet material from him as her fingertips dug into the skin on his back. Gripping her even tighter, holding firm to a fistful of her wet air, he kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, forgetting the fact that they were standing in the middle of a rainstorm on a New York City sidewalk, with people hurrying around them.

  He loved her. She loved him. Everything else—hell, everyone else—could wait.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Will dragged my suitcases back inside my apartment. He ushered me in front, possibly afraid to let me walk behind him, maybe thinking I might make another dash for it. But I wasn’t going anywhere, though that was probably the worst decision I could make. Because if I loved him—if I did truly love him—I would leave. I would go, vanish without another word, all in the hopes of keeping him safe. But I knew in my heart that I couldn’t let him go—let us go. Not now. I had tasted happiness, I had found love—real love—and I selfishly wanted more.

  Will shut the door behind him, and we stood facing one another in silence for a long time, both of us hesitant to speak, the rain dripping from our soaked clothes and bodies. I knew that I was beginning to care deeply for him, I just hadn’t realized how deep it had gone. But now we had declared our love for one another. That wasn’t something that should be said lightly, or easily, yet it had been easy. To say it to him. Because I did love him, I just hadn’t realized it until he had said it.

  “Will, I—”

  “Mila—”

  We both started to talk and stopped at the same time, Will growing more and more agitated with each passing moment. Will was a man who was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. I knew that this was hard on him; I could see it written all over his face. I was going to leave, I wasn’t going to say goodbye or give him any closure, or a reason for my disappearing. It was a terrible thing to do, I knew that, but I hadn’t been thinking straight, and it hadn’t been an intentional slight to him. Yet standing here looking at him, seeing the hurt on his face because of what I had been going to do, and the confusion at his own declaration for me, I knew that he deserved something. An explanation, an apology—more, if I could give it. But I had nothing to give him. Nothing but me.

  “I’m sorry.” I said the words, meaning them with all my heart.

  He swallowed and nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. The rain had soaked me to my core, a sharp chill beginning to set in as my teeth began to chatter.

  “I never intended to hurt you,” I added, not knowing where to start, or what I should tell him. The truth would be a good place to start, but the truth was dangerous, and Will would want to run from me, or maybe he’d want to help—only he couldn’t. No one could help me. Again I questioned staying when I should be running—if not for my safety, then for his.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

  “No. God, no. It’s not you, it’s—”

  “Me,” he said, sounding angry. “You were just going to go, without even saying goodbye to me?”

  I nodded.

  “You weren’t coming back, were you?”

  Despite th
e cold I flushed hot, embarrassment and shame crawling up my neck. “I’m sorry. There’s just…things I don’t want to talk about. Private things.” I looked down at my feet. Having to keep seeing the hurt in his eyes physically pained me.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” I mumbled, sucking in my bottom lip.

  “So explain it to me.” His voice was rough, gritty, and thick with emotion.

  Looking back up at him, I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t,” he said, frowning.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You already said that,” he bit out.

  “It has to be enough,” I pleaded. “Please, Will, it has to be.”

  Will stared at me, the silence stretching uncomfortably between us until he suddenly let out a heavy sigh and all at once he seemed to deflate, both physically and emotionally. “Whatever it is, Mila, you can tell me…whenever you decide to. But for now, please promise me something.”

  I took a step forward, hesitant, and then I stopped, not sure if his arms would welcome me anymore. He loved me, but did he still want me after this? We both stared at the other, a million thoughts and a thousand words left to say, yet I didn’t want to talk anymore. I was cold, and exhausted, and I ached to be wrapped around him, to feel his love for me.

  Will stepped closer, his hands finding my waist and tugging me to him, and I knew that, at least for now, he didn’t want to talk either. I was forgiven for this moment, and this moment was what mattered.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “Say you won’t run from me again.” His fingers gripped my waist tighter. “I can’t lose you. Not now.”

  I nodded and then he kissed me, long and hard, my hands on his back and his hands on my waist, holding me close. It said both goodbye to our old relationship and a hello to the new one we were embarking upon—this first step we were both taking together.

  Will pulled away first, pressing his still damp forehead against mine, his eyes still squeezed closed. We stayed like that, both silent, barring our rapid breathing and our own thoughts. Will spoke first. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead and returned to resting his forehead against mine.

  “Promise me,” he said, and he sounded so worried, almost broken at the very thought that I would just up and leave. My heart expanded and crumpled all at once. I had caused this pain, but also this love in him. God, it was all so bewildering. And yet beautiful and breathtaking.

  “I promise.”

  “You won’t go?”

  “I won’t.”

  Our foreheads still pressed together, I could feel the rain in my hair drip down onto my shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and I heard him release another large breath.

  I didn’t know if what I was saying was the absolute truth or not. All I knew was that, right then, I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t leave him.

  There comes a moment in every relationship where the alpha steps forward and dominates the other, even if only in a small way. Yet with Will, I felt as if we were equals. He was just as lost in me as I was in him, and that only made me love him more.

  Pulling away, I stared into his eyes, seeing worry, panic, love, and adoration—all of it inside their beautiful blue depths. I pressed my mouth to his once more, wanting to take the doubt away, and in some ways wanting to take my own away as well.

  His mouth opened to me, and my tongue slid between his lips, moving over his teeth and tongue hungrily. Heat flared in my belly, my thighs clenching together as his hands cupped my backside and he pulled me to him. My hands roved to his chest, and as I tried to pull off his soaking jacket, he started laughing. And then so did I. We pulled apart with wide grins and helped each other undress, pulling off drenched T-shirts and jeans, jackets and underwear, and leaving them in a wet heap on the floor by the door.

  Will scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bedroom, my head on his chest I listened to the heavy thud of his rapid heart. He was still worried. I could almost hear the worry inside him, eating away, gnawing at him.

  Inside my bedroom, he laid me down, my wet hair splaying out over my pillow and soaking it in seconds. He lay down on top of me, his body covering mine before pushing my thighs abruptly apart. His gaze never left mine, and without speaking he pushed the head of himself inside of me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I closed my eyes as he entered me, gasping when he began to thrust.

  His hand clutched my thigh, gripping it tightly as he slid in and out, each thrust a declaration from him that he was mine, and I took each one eagerly, each one a promise that I was his. Soon his movements became more urgent, and I was dragging my nails down his back and begging for release. His lips sought mine, traveling the length of my throat with soft kisses and small nips from his teeth until we were face to face, and I slowly opened my eyes and stared up into his.

  “I love you, Mila,” he said, a look of wonder slowly eclipsing his features, as if he had just realized the entirety of the statement and exactly what it meant for both him and me.

  I squeezed my thighs around him and smiled. “I love you, Will.”

  His eyes shone triumphantly and then his mouth crashed into mine, and in a tangle of breathless declarations and cries of pleasure, we both reached our pinnacle and leapt off the cliff together.

  * * *

  Will was still sleeping when I woke. My dreams had been nightmares, filled with twisted and wicked memories of breaking bones, blood—so much blood—and gut-churning screams.

  I woke abruptly, sitting upright in bed and staring around in confusion until I gathered my wits and remembered where I was. I was home, my new home in New York City. Glancing down beside me I found Will, and my heart flooded with happiness. And with the happiness came anxiety.

  Slipping out of bed, I dressed quickly and left the room, pulling the door shut behind me. Hurrying to the kitchen, I stood there in dark, my arms wrapped tightly around my waist just listening to the rain beat a steady rhythm against the window. The moon was sitting heavy and full in the sky, and I stared at it with a heart full of worry.

  If I stayed, I put Will in serious danger. But to leave now would break both him and me. Guilt gnawed away at my gut, my feelings once again conflicted. No matter which way I looked at it, Will would lose.

  I had always known, in the back of my mind, that my past would eventually catch up to me. I just never imagined I would fall in love right before it did. Or that, in having to run again, I would lose more than just my home and my friend. I couldn’t lose Will—not now. I loved him, and he loved me.

  It was selfish and wrong, but…I wanted this, I needed it. God, I deserved it, didn’t I?

  * * *

  Standing just outside the door to bathroom, Will was quietly drumming his fingers along the doorframe, listening to the shower running, along with Mila’s sniffling. She was crying again, for the second time this morning—the first being when she’d thought he was still asleep. He’d been at a loss, much like he’d been the day before when he’d found her packed and ready to run off to…

  He still didn’t know where, or why, or what had prompted the drastic move. They’d since declared they’d both fallen for one another, had spent the evening expressing their feelings with their bodies, and still had yet to actually talk about anything.

  It had been juvenile to think he’d known all there was to know about Mila, being that he’d only known her a few weeks. Yet she’d seemed so genuine, so open, and maybe she was. Maybe he was reading too much into this.

  Still…he couldn’t help but wonder what would prompt a woman to so drastically change her life path in the span of only a few hours. He knew Mila was hiding something from him. Something important. But what?

  Yes, they definitely needed to talk. Only he didn’t want to come across as selfish. He wanted to give her the time she needed to process whatever it was before coming to him. And at the same time he was aching to help her through whatever it was that had prompted her to run.

  The shower shut
off and the sound of the vinyl curtain pulling open had Will taking a step back from the closed door. Fabric rustled, the faucet turned on and off, and then, along with a burst of steam freed into the hallway, Mila stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a large blue towel, a smaller matching one wound around her hair. She stopped upon finding him there, and her bloodshot gaze lifted to his.

  “Can we talk?” he asked gently, extending his hand to her.

  Mila’s eyes closed as a sigh slipped free, and instead of taking his hand she leaned sideways against the open door. “A friend of mine passed away,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “I received the news yesterday, just after you last texted me, and I freaked out.”

  Her eyes opened, her chin lifting, her pained expression focusing on him and causing his body to tense in response. She was hurting so visibly, it was paining Will to watch her without reaching for her again. But despite how much he wanted to comfort her, her body language, her expression, were telling him to let her lead this conversation and to remain where he was.

  “We’d been friends since childhood,” she continued softly, her glistening eyes glazing over, looking past him and seeing something Will could not. “We were like sisters.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, wishing like hell he had something better than standard and infuriatingly typical “I’m sorry” to say to her. Wishing he could somehow fix this, and put a stop to her heartache.

  Several fat tears fell from beneath her lowered lashes, rolling quickly down her cheeks and off her chin. “I wasn’t always so…so…stable,” she said, shaking her head as she let out a tiny, humorless laugh.

  It was an odd choice of words, and he knew that he should really be thinking more about it—stable. Yet, who was really stable these days? Not him, that was for damn sure.