Keep Me: A HERO Novella (2 page)

Read Keep Me: A HERO Novella Online

Authors: Leighton Del Mia

Tags: #alpha male, #superhero, #fairy tales, #gothic, #wealthy, #action, #Suspense, #billionaires

BOOK: Keep Me: A HERO Novella
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He glanced at my wrists. “How often and where?”

“Not often. Only when things were . . . too much to hold in. My thigh, and my forearms, where the glass already left marks.”

“You need to deal with this. My coming back into your life is going to be a difficult transition. Promise me you’ll go see someone.”

I shook my head. Nothing sounded worse than reliving that time out loud. “Not now, Calvin. Let me just be happy for a little while. Happy that you’re here. I won’t do it again.”

He looked up at me with hooded green eyes. “It’s been so long,” he said. “You don’t know all the times I imagined having you back in bed.”

“Calvin.”

“I know. Ignore my dick against your leg,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I can wait.”

“I just think—”

“You don’t need to explain. I agree with you. I don’t want to start things off that way.”

I nodded just as the phone rang. “That’s Grant,” I said.

He groaned and dropped his face into my lap. “I don’t ever want to hear that name again.”

“If I’d known you were—”

“Don’t,” he cut me off. “Just answer the phone and break it off.”

I wriggled out of his grasp. In the doorway, though, I stopped to look back. “Can you still . . . hear?”

He looked over his shoulder at me. “No.”

The answering machine beeped. “Hey, Cat. I have to run some errands, should I pick you up? We can get lunch—”

I nabbed the receiver in the kitchen, stretching the cord to the furthest corner. “I’m here.”

“Hey. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know, sorry. Late night, so I slept in.”

“Good. I’m glad you got some sleep. So what do you say to some food?”

“Grant, I . . .” I paused, searching for the words. I had no way of explaining myself. Instead I said, “I’ll meet you. Just tell me where.”

After I hung up the phone, Calvin was still in the same position on the bed. I climbed over him to straddle his ass, lowering my mouth to his ear. “I love having you here,” I said. “I haven’t told you yet how much I missed you.”

“Is it over?” he asked. I sighed and straightened up as he flipped on his back. “It’s not, is it?”

“We’ve been dating a year. I can’t do it over the phone. I agreed to meet him for lunch.”

His eyes shifted to the ceiling, and he nodded. “It’s my own fault for getting involved with a good girl.”

I laughed and closed my body over his. My lips touched his neck, but I froze when the tendons tightened. It was an unexplored shift in power for us. When he didn’t move to dislodge me, I said, “I’m not all good.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I can be bad. I’ve been called a little slut, actually.”


My
little slut,” he said. “There’s a difference you know.” He was getting hard, and it dug against me. I shifted. We inhaled sharply at the same moment. “God, you’re going to make this fucking impossible for me, aren’t you?”

I pecked him, lifting my head to look him in the eyes. “I’m glad you don’t wear the glasses anymore.”

“I didn’t need them.”

“You were handsome in them, but now I can see you better.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

I smiled and put my palm to his cheek. “It is. You’re good, Calvin. I’ve seen the worst of you, and now I get to know the best.”

“I think you might be the best of me.”

I blushed instantly. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be returning the favor soon.”

I laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Way to ruin the moment. I need a shower,” I said, sitting up. “I’d appreciate if you kept your x-ray vision turned off.”

“Christ, Cat. I don’t have x-ray vision. If I did, I’d be dead man.”

“Yes, you would. By my hand.”

We left the apartment an hour later to meet Grant. Calvin dropped me around the corner, promising he’d be back to pick me up soon.

Grant waved from his table on the patio when he spotted me. I let him kiss me before sitting down to the iced tea he’d ordered me. In the sun, his brown hair was streaked golden, and his blue eyes were even more striking than normal.

“You look pretty,” he said. “It’s nice to see you in a dress outside of work.”

I thanked him and ordered a Caesar salad from the waitress. When we were alone again, I took his hand in mine. “Grant, you’ve been so patient with me this year. Everything I went through—I know I’m not always easy to deal with.”

“I’m just glad you’re doing better. How long’s it been since you cut? Three months?”

“Something like that. I’m done with it, anyway, and that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Well, to be fair, you never want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

“I’ve worked with cutters, babe. It’s not just done when you say it’s done. But,” he squeezed my hand, “I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way since we met.”

“Grant—”

“When we move in together, though, it has to stop completely. I can’t watch you do that to yourself. You—no,
we, have to find a way to—”

“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your patients.”

He reeled back and gaped at me. “I have never treated you like one of my patients.”

I set my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I’ve just been thinking lately that maybe . . . maybe we need to take a break.”

“What? No. A break? No, we don’t need that.”

I looked up, my lip between my teeth. “You’re right. Break is the wrong word. This is over.”

His mouth opened but no words came.

“I know it’s sudden,” I continued, “but it’s just not working anymore.”

“It’s very sudden. Has this been building? Talk to me, Cat.”

I shook my head. “I love you, but I don’t see us moving in together, and I know that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want, yes, but if you’re not ready . . . I can wait. I just thought it was what you wanted too.”

“You’ve been so good to me. I need space though. I don’t think, when we met, that I was ready for a relationship.”

“You can’t dwell on what happened to you. Otherwise they win.”

“Who?”

“The people who did this to you. Guy Fowler.”

I hadn’t heard that name aloud in months. Grant knew about a man named Guy who worked with the Cartel and held me in a house out of state, but I’d told him he was dead. Just like Calvin never thought of him, because I’d never told him the truth about Guy. Sometimes I worried about the things Guy knew, and about him returning, for me or for Calvin.

“He haunts you,” Grant said. “The cutting, the sleeplessness, your commitment issues . . . your tormentor is still wielding his power over you from the grave.”

The waitress set down my salad and his burger, but my appetite had vanished. I forked some lettuce and ate it anyway. “I agree. I let my past control too much, but I think I’m ready to move forward. I have to do it by myself, though.”

He nodded as he chewed, but his eyes were distant. “I’ll respect your decision. Just know that I love you, and I’ve only ever wanted to help. If you get home tonight and realize you’ve made a mistake . . . I’ll be here.”

Grant had always been logical and mature. At times it bothered me, but I was grateful for it now.

We parted with one last long hug during which he squeezed me tightly. “I love you,” he whispered in my ear. “Please reconsider.”

I kissed him on the cheek, knowing he watched as I walked away. Around the corner, Calvin was waiting against his car with his arms crossed. When I reached him, he took my face in his hands. “How’d it go?”

I shrugged, trying to still my quivering chin.

“Did you tell him about me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt him.”

His thumbs touched the corners of my eyes. “I love you,” he said.

Though it felt strange to hear it from him, it was exactly what I needed. I buried my face in his chest and let him hold me.

“I know that was hard,” he said, “but now you’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

My love for Calvin felt acute in that moment. I didn’t know when it started, and I didn’t know if it sometimes went away, but at that moment, it was fire inside me.

 

Calvin’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom watching me reminisce on the windowsill. When I notice him, my body gets warmer. “I missed you. I like having you close.”

He comes and sits at the opposite end, glancing out the window and back at me. “My little bird, who tried to fly away.”

“My hero, who caught me.”

It’s a memory that has left marks on my body and my soul, but we both smile.

“They’ll be here soon,” he says.

“Okay.”

He stands, and I grab his hand to pull him to me. He cups the back of my head as I look up. “I think I’m ready, Calvin.”

“It’s only been a week.”

I arch my eyebrow at him. “Are you turning down sex?”

His expression distorts as he tries to suppress a smile. “No. Just making sure you’re truly ready.”

I hitch my fingers in his waistband and pull lightly. “Something about being back here makes me want to be ready. And I just remembered something.”

“What’s that?”

“I never paid my debt from our game of eight-ball.”

“Cataline, you have no debts to me.”

“But I promised.” I slip his button through its slit, still looking up at him.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. Not here,” he says, but he doesn’t stop me when I slide down his zipper.

“I think it’s perfect.” I pull his pants and underwear to his thighs. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him this way, and it’s as intimidating as I remember. I take a deep breath and run the tip of my tongue along his shaft. “We can replace the memories, Cal.” His hand threads in my hair, but I pull back and shake my head. “The deal was that I’d be willing. You’ve been patient this week. Let me do this to you.”

He releases me without a word. He’s substantial in my hand as my mouth stretches over him. My craving is stronger than I realized, and my saliva, moans, fingers, sucking meld into one greedy plea for him.

He falls forward onto his outstretched arms and thrusts once into my mouth. I draw back and circle my tongue around his crown, relishing the brininess of him. My lips skip over his ridges, his throbbing veins as I pull him in deeply again. I suck, he growls, and I can sense his resolve not to take over. His hips move at a steady but leisurely pace, and it reminds me of how it is to be fucked by him. When he comes in my mouth, I choke on it, swallowing it down as fast as he fills me.

“Christ,” he says softly just as there’s a tentative knock on the open door.

“Hello? Mr. P—oh, my. I’m so sorry.”

Calvin’s back is to the door, blocking me, but I immediately flush red.

“Give us a moment, Judith,” he says, clearly irritated.

I peek around his body to see the room is empty.

“Of course,” she calls from the hallway. “I just wanted to inform you that the potential buyers are here.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’ll be right down.”

I can’t help giggling through my hand over my mouth. “Do you think she saw anything?”

“Aside from my bare ass?”

I laugh harder and stand while he fixes his pants. Before I take a step, he catches my waist and pulls me to him. “You’re incredible. It’s early still, but I can’t wait to fuck you.” My already-warm cheeks burn hotter, and he lifts my face by my chin. “Only because I’ve been painfully hard for you since I saw you in the gallery. But once I do that, then I’m going to make love to you.”

My lips part slightly as he pecks me. We are always the collision of opposing forces. Fucking and making love, goodness and evil, loving and hating.

Downstairs, we meet the couple. The closest room to the entryway is the dining hall, so that’s where the tour begins. Calvin stands close behind me as Judith relays specifics, including the origin of the ‘sturdy, antique’ table they would inherit. It is sturdy; I can attest to that. Not only have I been screwed on it, but it’s been flipped over at least once that I know about and survived.

Calvin’s hands cover my upper arms when I shudder. The drapes perfectly frame long, skinny windows—windows I stood and watched from, wishing I were beyond them. The centerpiece displays candlesticks and more memories. I turn without thinking and bury my face in his broad chest.

“I’m sorry, Miss Ford,” Judith says. “It isn’t easy to let go of such a beautiful home that’s filled with happy memories.”

Calvin presses my shoulder in his hand, and I look at her. “No,” I say with a small but genuine smile. “It’s not.”

Each room represents something different for me. The kitchen was a portal, both literally and figuratively. It was the key to my one escape, but my time in the mansion after I walked through it was never the same. The game room, Calvin’s office, the pool and sauna—each return the fear, lust, and confusion I experienced during captivity. Part of me wants to scream at the couple,
“Do you know what I endured in the very spot you’re standing?”
But the part that loves Calvin and wants to move forward with him is greater.

I experience Calvin’s floor as I always wanted to. None of the locked rooms hold anything of any significance, and I wonder that they ever did.

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