Sensing he was going to get nothing more out of this, but having gotten what he wanted anyway, High stepped back.
She quickly moved away from him, toward a door he saw led to a bathroom.
He watched her do it, eyes to her ass, and doing that he decided he was going to go for more and he didn’t care how late she was.
So he told her back, “It wasn’t lost on you, what you did to me.”
She turned and he saw her cheeks still flushed from sex, but the rest of her face was pale and her eyes were guarded.
“?’Preciate the orgasms, Millie,” he continued. “But cannot get a lock on how any woman could do that to a man, and no matter it’s ten days or twenty years, come back for more. Release me. Tell me your fuckin’ game. If it isn’t as twisted as the last one, you need to get off, I’ll give that to you until I find better.”
The guard went down as anger flashed. “Well, thanks, High. What a sweet offer.”
He lost patience. “Millie, ain’t dickin’ around.”
Then he braced when her expression changed again. It was fast, the suffering that slashed through it before she hid it. But it didn’t leave her and he knew it because it colored her tone.
“You’re released.”
He searched her expression.
Fuck, she meant that.
He felt his shoulders constrict.
“Just like that?” he asked.
“I made a mistake,” she said quietly. “A big one, as it turned out. But it’s been made. There’s no rectifying it.”
“The mistake?” he pushed.
“Coming to see you,” she told him.
Jesus, were they getting somewhere?
“And you did that because...??” he prompted.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Fucking shit.
More games.
“Millie, this is the fuckin’ game I been talkin’ about,” he clipped.
She flinched, not a communication of discomfort or pain, one of frustration.
But he again didn’t give a fuck.
She was frustrated?
He was too and the woman had started this bullshit.
“Christ, if you’d just spit it out, we’d be done with this,” he reminded her.
She locked eyes with him. “Release me.”
“Jesus, Millie—”
“You’re coming to me,” she pointed out. “Stop it. Release me.”
He threw an arm out to indicate the desk and the shit he swept all over the floor and asked, “Gonna be hard for you to convince me that isn’t the goal you wanna achieve, wrap me up tight in that wet * of yours and play with me however you want. I know that game, caught up in it before, so I also know you’re good at it.”
She attempted to instigate another score.
“It’s almost impossible to believe, looking at you, knowing who you are, knowing who you were, and listening to you speak to me like that.”
But that was taking it too far.
And High was not a man who allowed that shit.
Not anymore.
Not since Millie taught him not to do it.
“Fuck, bitch,” he snarled, “you cannot seriously be standing there tryin’ the guilt game on me when you fucked up my whole goddamned life, and like that wasn’t enough, waltzed back into it, you lookin’ for me, to try to do it again.”
And apparently, what he said took it too far for Millie.
He knew it when she leaned forward, her beautiful face twisted in pain, and hissed, “I’ve been walking through fire for you for twenty years, Logan. Do not stand in my office that you walked into without an invitation and feed me your shit. This is revenge. This is your way of hurting me after I hurt you. I’m not stupid. You want it?” She leaned back and tossed out both arms. “Take it. But I’m not gonna get on my knees and let you shove my face down so you can’t see it but you can fuck faceless * knowing exactly how much you’re humiliating me. You need to take from me, I’ll give it but only because I’m giving to get.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t get when you were on your knees for me at Bill’s,” he sneered.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know exactly the insult you were delivering,” she fired back. “You knew, High. You knew. You knew you were delivering the worst insult a man could give to a woman. You knew it and do not tell me you didn’t.”
He couldn’t tell her that because she was right.
And she’d deserved it.
At least he’d thought that at the time.
Staring into her face, a face saturated with fury and hurt, he was thinking twice.
“Tell me how you walked through fire for me,” he ordered.
“No,” she whispered, the word soft but it held so much power, it left a gash in the air of the room and he felt his chest burning like he was struggling for breath. “Never,” she went on. “I was gonna give that to you but then you lost the right to it.”
“So it’s still game on,” he noted.
“Not if you release me,” she replied.
He decided to lay it out.
“Clue in, Millie. I’m comin’ to you, so who’s got a hold on who?”
“You’ve got the power to let this be over,” she told him.
“How’s that when I don’t even have to fuckin’ kiss you to make you drenched for me?” he returned.
“God!” she cried, looking to the ceiling.
He ignored that and shared, “This isn’t done, we both know it and I’m guessin’ from this irritatin’ conversation we got no choice but to ride whatever the fuck this is out, but it’s me who’s gotta do it hopin’ you don’t rip me up in the process.”
She tipped her head down and again locked eyes on him. “If you think that, then you aren’t paying attention.”
“Baby,” he drawled, “trust me, you got my complete attention.”
It was then she landed the hammer.
“No, I don’t and from the way you’re treating me, it’s clear I never did.”
With that, she ended their conversation by turning, entering the bathroom, and slamming the door and he heard the lock go.
He could bust down the door but enough was enough.
The bitch told him she walked through fire for him, insinuating that there was something he fucking didn’t catch back in the day.
Bullshit.
Total bullshit Millie games.