The Billionaire's Secret Kink Box Set: Knox: Secret Alpha Billionaire Romance Bundle (Rosesson Brothers Book 1) (11 page)

Knox's lips grazed her shoulder, and he felt the desire to bite down, to mark the creamy flesh there, just to let her know what he was feeling. Fiery shame filled him at the thought. He would never hurt a woman. Especially not her.

Knox knew he had to stop this. He wanted it more than he wanted to breathe, but he also wanted answers, explanations, her story. He couldn't stand to lose her again. He shut his lips tight against her skin, his hands clenching in her hair, emotion still spilling through him, making his reactions suspect. He hated it. Hated not being in control. Right now, he felt as far from having control of himself as he ever had in his life.

Knox pulled himself back, then pushed her away, more roughly than he wanted to. Mica/Rachel gasped as she stepped backwards to keep her balance, her big, soulful eyes fixed on him, her expression wilting from passion to resignation. She hadn't expected the kiss. This she expected.

Knox bit the inside of his lip hard enough to bleed. His hands curled into tense fists at his sides. What now? How to move past this awfulness, this awkwardness?

"I'm sorry for kissing you," he said gruffly. "It won't happen again. I was ... surprised."

She just stared, and he thought he saw her heart break with the words. But had his heart already been broken? Trampled? Completely disregarded?

Knox pushed his thoughts away from his anger and toward the situation they were in. He tamped down his desire and his relief and tried to focus. His heart was overjoyed, singing at the recovery of this woman, but his mind wouldn't let his heart go freely. His mind wanted protection.

Knox flipped himself into business mode.
Distraction. Don't think about it. Don't deal with it right now.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, using it as a touchstone to the life where he was the boss, where he called the shots, but as he did so, a realization toppled down on him, trumping everything for just a moment. He let the emotions go with relief as understanding filled him.

"Was that the guy from the train?"

Mica/Rachel nodded hesitantly, her hair bouncing. Knox locked down his feelings.

"Right," he said. He had to get out of the tiny room, away from
her
, and think. But he also needed to deal with the situation. Knox pushed past her out into the hallway, dialing his phone as he went.

Mica

Mica stood in her bathroom, one hand fluttering up to her lips to catch the heat that still lingered there. She hadn't expected the kiss. She'd spent the last ten years trying to convince herself that she had imagined the level of passion and heat that sexy man had generated in her during their stolen hours on the train so many years ago. But she knew she was a fool for trying. Her knees felt like jelly, threatening to give way and topple her to the floor. Her heart beat in triple time and her nerve endings all cried out for her to follow him, climb him like a tree, and beg him to do it again.

Mica took a deep breath, remembering his words.
It won't happen again.
All her body wanted was for it to happen a hundred more times, a thousand, until they both were naked, entwined together as one soul, erasing all the lost years. Her mind though, her mind was still reeling and didn't know what it wanted. She didn't date men like him. Never had. Those hours they'd had on the train hadn't been dating, they'd been ... a mission.

Mica pulled her hand away from her mouth and curled it into a fist as hot, indignant anger flashed through her. She'd messed this up. She'd waited for ten years and only contacted him because she was in danger, all to save herself the embarrassment of admitting she had lied. Lied to protect herself. Lied because she hadn't known what else to do.

Mica collapsed against the vanity, tears threatening. What a mess she'd created. Now what? Would he leave? Walk out of her life forever? Abandon her to Dick Bailey?

Mica heard his voice coming from the living room and she pulled herself upright. She blinked back the tears and steeled herself for the coming confrontation. She would have to confess everything. Every nasty, dirty, shameful secret, if she ever wanted him to trust her again. Did she want that? She thought so. Her hand raised to her lips again as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her lips looked slightly swollen from the wildness of his kiss. God help her, she wanted another one of those kisses, no matter how kinky and promiscuous the tabloids said he was. She didn't believe it, at least not all of it. But none of that mattered if he hated her. She wanted the chance to learn for herself what kind of a man he really was. Which she never would if he walked out of her life right now.

Mica stood tall, prepared to bare her soul, and strode out into the hallway, head held high. As she approached her living room she could hear his words as he spoke into his phone.

" ... get Bronx and Rock, Phoenix if he'll come, pull Harris and Wright off their details, anyone who's available. Even Mac if you can find him. I want everyone in uniforms and out here within an hour. Full show of force. Question all the neighbors, everyone within a four block radius. Everyone goes in pairs. This guy is dangerous. Call me when you get in the area and I'll give you a better description. Or maybe you can get a current picture off the network if he's been arrested. And Daxton, this is important, bro. Top priority. Clear the schedule of anything you can."

Mica stopped in the kitchen and busied herself there, unable to see Knox, but still able to hear him. Not only had he not left, but he was calling in more people to come help? Mica's heart began to hammer in her chest again as she thought about what could happen next. She began to make coffee as Knox kept talking.

"No, we don't have any reason to detain him. Not yet. I'll get you the details as soon as I know them. But I want to know where he is and who has seen him. And how he got a key to this building and this apartment. I want to know what he's driving. I'll message you as soon as I know more."

Mica held her breath as Knox stopped talking for a moment, then resumed. "Ok, you do that. See you then."

Mica pulled two cups out of her cabinet and brought them to the coffeemaker. All was silent in her living room. She bit her lip and tried to pretend she wasn't nervous.

Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned to find Knox standing there, his smoldering eyes fixed on her. She glanced at him then looked away, grabbing up a cup. "Coffee?" she asked.

He only stared, not saying a word.

Mica kept her eyes on the coffee maker, her words locked in her throat. She wanted to get this right. Carefully, she poured herself a cup, and him one too. She left hers black, promising herself she'd add sugar and cream when her tale was told, but she pulled out the sugar and cream for Knox, and slid them towards him on the counter. She took a deep, bitter sip from her mug and turned to face him, not quite able to look at his face. She stared somewhere in the region of his chest and pushed out the words.

"I lied to you ten years ago. I told you he'd been harassing me and had put his hand up my skirt while I was sleeping, and that I didn't know him, but that wasn't the truth. I had my reasons for telling you that lie, and they seemed like enough at the time. I hope if you hear me out, listen to my reasons, you'll be able to forgive me." Mica licked her lips and brought her gaze up to meet his. His face was all hard lines and clenched jaw, but did his gaze soften? She couldn't be sure. He nodded his head.

Mica felt a flush of relief and just started talking, not even sure where she was starting or how she would finish, but glad he was listening. She dropped her eyes to the floor, trying to collect her thoughts.

"I guess my story really starts when I was ten." Mica looked up at Knox to see if he was going to protest her going back that far, seven full years before Knox met her on the train. His eyes were flat, expressionless. She swallowed hard, preparing to go on. It would be a long story, but he had to hear all of it if he were going to truly understand her motives. She pushed out her next words in a rush, holding her tears at bay. She didn't have time for them right now.

"My mom died. She had cancer. She knew she was going to die and she tried to prepare me as best she could, but how could I really be prepared for something like that? She had broken ties with all of her family years before because something had happened that she wouldn't tell me about. But when she realized she was going to die she started calling them up, prepared to swallow her pride and apologize and ask for someone to take care of me. But what she found shocked her and made her have to reconsider everything. Her parents had both died four years before in a freak boating accident. Her sister was in prison for her fourth DUI, and any other family had either disappeared or died. The only family member who was still around was her half-uncle and she made me swear I would never, ever contact him. She hated him for something and said I would be better off living in a ditch than living with him, or even knowing him."

Mica mimed writing on a piece of paper watching Knox as she did so. It was imperative that he understood how alone she had been. "Seriously, she made me sign a contract, a piece of paper that she wrote out that said I would never contact him and if he tried to contact me I wouldn't talk to him."

Knox nodded again, tersely. Mica bit the inside of her lip. He wasn't softening.

"She wouldn't give me the name of my father either. I still don't know who he is. She said he was a bad man, and I'd be better off if I never knew him."

Mica took another sip of her bitter coffee, relishing the harshness of it. She needed harsh right now. She looked at Knox again and felt her mouth go dry at what looked like a spark of compassion growing in his face. Or was it pity? She couldn't stand pity. As she was considering, Knox looked away, to the coffee on the counter.

"Please, that's what it's there for," she told him.

Knox gathered his cup, then began to pour in two creamers and two tiny spoonfuls of sugar. Mica, glad she could go on without having to look at him, kept talking. The worst was coming, but it didn't matter. She couldn't stop now.

Mica

"My mom didn't know what to do. She'd been completely up front with me ever since she'd received the diagnosis that she only had a few months to live. It was terrifying to me. I'd only ever known my mom and the teachers at school. We never had money for vacations or even outings. My mom had no friends, she always seemed scared of people. I was an introverted, shy child and the thought of being put in foster care or having to live with someone I didn't know after my mom was gone gave me panic attacks. It got so bad that mom had to pull me out of school because I would cry every time I had to leave her and I would just have to change schools when she died anyway. She would talk just like that, matter-of-factly, without sugar-coating anything, mentioning that she was going to die soon at least once a day. She actually seemed tired, and ready to go, ready to be done with living, which didn't help me at all because I began to wish I would get cancer too and die with her, or before her, and that way I wouldn't have to go on without her."

Mica took a deep breath, remembering the pain of those days for the first time in years. Knox had finished preparing his coffee and was standing back where he had been before, a calm but otherwise unreadable look on his face, occasionally sipping from his cup. Mica stole short glances at him as she talked, unable to look at him for very long without feeling a twisting in her gut.

"As mom got sicker and sicker, unable to even get out of bed some days, I became her caregiver. My prayer was the same every night.
God, please make my mom well, and if you won't do that, please make me sick.
I stayed healthy though, and mom got sicker. One day, she got a phone call from an old friend. I remember everything about that day. The way she laughed and cried and talked to her friend for hours, and the way I huddled in the kitchen listening to her, praying it was good news. When she finally got off the phone she called me in to her bed, which really was just an old mattress on the floor of the living room. She said that she had found me a new mom, and that I didn't have to be afraid anymore. She said it was her oldest friend from high school and that the friend had agreed to take me. She said the woman's name was Karen and that I would meet her in just a few days. Karen was going to drive up and get us both, and we could live with her until mom died."

Mica suddenly felt tired, like she weighed a thousand pounds. She didn't want to relive any of this, but of course she was. The fears and anxieties of childhood were creeping back up on her, reminding her of what that time in her life had been like.

"I cried that night, but then I cried every night. I slept next to mom on the mattress in the living room, because it was all we had. Our tiny apartment didn't even have a bedroom. I would roll off onto the floor and cry silently so my shaking wouldn't wake my mom. If she woke up in the morning and I was still on the floor, having cried myself to sleep, I would say I must have rolled off the bed in the middle of the night."

"We had been living in a small town in Northern California, but Karen came and got us like mom said she would. She packed up some of our things into the trailer she was pulling behind her car and we left the rest. We drove to her house just outside of Portland, Oregon and she put us both up in her guest room. For a few weeks mom seemed better, or at least happy. I began to feel hope too. Hope that maybe she would live, and that if she didn't, I would be able to stay with Karen. Karen was nice to me and seemed to care about me."