“Excuse me? What guy? Attacked Mia?”
Anton’s face jolted back. The shit was about to hit the fan. I tried to give hand signals, throw up flares, wave down the plane, but nothing stopped him. He gripped Wes by the shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry. Her secret is safe with me. The no-touching thing though, shit man, she’s beautiful, and a man wants to put his hands on her even in a friendly way, you know. Well”—he grinned pointing to the elevator—“you know.” He winked. “That bastardo that did it uninvited, put her in the hospital; you must have been downright loco eh?”
Wes stopped on the way to my temporary apartment. His eyes narrowed, and both hands turned into white fists. He shot a guarded glance my way. “You were attacked? A man put you in the hospital? A fucking client?” The calm way he asked was scary, downright frightening because it was laced with venom. “Mia? Answer me.”
I stood still, tears forming in my eyes. “It wasn’t that bad,” I whispered.
“Did this guy also try to touch you uninvited?” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward where Anton stood obviously misunderstanding what Anton meant to say.
My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to speak but something on my face registered wrong and he flipped around and had Anton by the throat against the wall. “Did you fucking touch her?!” Wes slammed his body once against the wall. Anton recovered quickly and put his hands to Wes’s forearms. I feared he’d start a brawl. He didn’t. Anton went still and allowed Wes to hold him against the wall; Wes’s arms shook with the effort. “I asked you a question,” he shouted.
“No.” A single word, his eyes directly on Wes, challenging him not to believe the truth.
I placed my hands on Wes’s back, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to make it worse. Tears scuttled down my cheeks. “Wes, baby, Anton has been trying to help me get past what happened. Please, let him go. We’ll talk. Me and you. He didn’t hurt me.”
“What’s this about you not being able to touch her? Why the fuck would you even say that?” he thundered right up in Anton’s face.
Again, Anton showed the patience of a Saint, which was odd, because I knew he boxed for sport and worked out like a mad man. He could probably take Wes, or at the very least, destroy this hallway trying. “When she came to me, she couldn’t even handle a simple hug. It was bad, man.” I sunk to me knees.
No. No. No. No.
Wes wasn’t supposed to know. I didn’t want this ruined. It was too new, too important. Now he would see that I was damaged. Not good enough for him. I hadn’t had enough time with him. Heather shouted something I couldn’t even hear through the roaring noise in my head. I was lifted up in a flourish, held in the cocoon of the only arms I ever wanted to be in again. Wes.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay.” I trembled against his chest. Somehow he got into my apartment and sat on the couch with me curled up in his lap. He held me for a long time while I cried. He soothed me, petted my hair, whispered sweet nothings to me. Finally, parched, he got me to take a few sips of water from a glass that appeared from out of nowhere.
“We’ll leave you. Amigo, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Puneta! Lo siento.”
“If you need anything, I left our cards on the counter. I’ll touch base with you later. Take care of our girl,” Heather said.
Our girl. They thought I was their girl, but the only girl I wanted to be was Wes’s girl. I sniffed against Wes’s neck, enjoying the ocean scent, wishing we were at his place in Malibu, not in Miami in a strange albeit nice apartment.
“Hey, you okay?” He tilted my head up and wiped away the remaining tears as I nodded. “You hungry?” I shook my head. “Thirsty?” Same response. “What do you need?”
“I need you to love me.”
“Mia, I’ve loved you from the moment you took off your helmet at the beach. Hell, maybe it even happened before, when Mom showed me your photos on the website. I knew then I had to have you. And not just in my bed.” He squeezed me tight. “Though I love that too.” He grinned wickedly. “With you, Mia, it’s always been more. Everything about you calls to me. Your body makes me weak with desire. Your love of life and new things makes me want to set the world at your feet just so I can see you smile. I’ll love you today, tomorrow, and every day after that.”
“Prove it.”
He groaned and then sighed. “Sweetheart, we need to talk.”
“Prove it,” I pleaded, my voice bordering on begging.
He ran a hand through his dirty blond layers and down his face. “Fuck me,” he grumbled.
“Exactly. Fuck me.”
He shook his head. “Not tonight. Tonight I’m going to worship you.”
Chapter 9