Page 103 of His to Possess
“But you have been with her,” I whisper, hating how weak this jealousy makes me. “That sub, Heather. And Jane’s sub, too.”
He looks so regretful my chest aches for him. “I did a lot of things before I found you that I would never do now.”
And now my chest is aching for another reason. “Because I’m too boring?”
He surprises me by barking out a laugh. “Boring? Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve never been less bored than I was with you this week.”
“Then…why?”
He presses his forehead to mine, staring down into my eyes. “Because I’m in love with you, Lilah. Because you changed everything.”
And with those words, all the uncertainty and pain melts away. I trust him. It’s that simple. Yes, we still have things to talk about. I’m not thrilled that he was having me investigated. And I’m curious as hell what he meant about Jane raining down shit on the owners here.
But none of that matters right now. Right now, I only want one thing.
I tilt my head to brush my lips softly across his. “Take me home, Philip.”
Philip
The first thing Lilah does when she gets in my car is call her brother. I don’t argue with her, as much as I might want her attention solely focused on me. I do insist that she make her call one-handed so I can keep our fingers entwined while I drive—there’s simply no way I can stand to let her go.
I can hear Christopher’s excitement from over the phone—apparently being in a fancy hotel suite alone is the highest level of cool for a sixteen-year-old kid. Lilah explains that Mrs. Higgins will join him shortly, taking the suite’s second bedroom, and that tomorrow, she’ll come and get him. I’m relieved when I hear that—I don’t know what I would have done if she’d wanted to make the drive to Raleigh tonight.
He lowers his voice so I can’t hear what he says next, but from Lilah’s calm firm assurances that she’s okay, I get the gist. “You did the right thing,” she tells him softly, and I know he admitted that he told me about their earlier phone call. “Everything is going to be fine now.”
A sense of deep satisfaction washes over me at those words, because I know she believes them. I would move heaven and earth to make things okay for this woman, and it pleases the hell out of me that she seems to know that.
By the time she ends the phone call, I’m pulling into the underground garage at my apartment building. Lilah sighs a little in the seat beside me as I pull the keys from the ignition. “Tired?”
She shakes her head. “Relieved to be home.”
I’d planned to wait until we got upstairs to touch her, but I can’t. Not with her looking at me like that, with so much trust and relief in her eyes. Not when she calls my place home. I take her face between my palms, trying to ignore the way my hands are shaking, and bring my lips to her. God, I’d been so afraid I would never have the chance to kiss her like this again.
That thought has me pulling back, trying to hide my still shaking hands. “Let’s go up,” I say, voice more gruff than I’d intended.
In the apartment, I go straight to the bar and pour myself a whiskey. “You want something?” I ask, without turning. The feeling that started to rise in me down in the car won’t go away, and I’m afraid of what will happen if I look at her.
“Yes, please.”
“Wine?”
“Sure.”
I pour out the glass, breath catching when I realize it’s the same vintage I poured her that first night. When I’d brought her back here after the auction. The last time she’d stood on a stage in front of a room full of men and offered herself up. Just like she did again tonight.
“Philip?” Her touch is as soft as her voice when she places a warm palm against the center of my back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I grit out.
“You’re shaking.”
I ignore her, taking a step back so her hand falls away before turning to her with the glass of wine. I hand it over without meeting her eyes, then gulp half my whiskey in one shot, desperate to quell the fire that’s raging ever hotter inside me.
“Let’s sit,” I manage.
She looks down at herself, grimacing. “Do you mind if I change?”
Of course she would want to change out of the tiny scrap of black leather, and all the memories it must contain for her. An image of her flashes through my mind, the way she’d looked on that stage not even an hour ago, so fucking beautiful under the bright lights, that asshole auctioneer’s hands on her—
