Lochlan

For a split second, I considered lowering Millie to the couch and taking her there, but after the incident in the office, I was determined the first time we came together would be a little more romantic. Not that she'd demanded roses and flattery. Her response to the spanking and commands had shocked me—and turned me on more than I'd ever thought possible. What had started as a way to unleash my frustrations on this woman had turned into desperation to make her come. Only years spent denying myself had kept me from sliding inside of her and fucking her until she was falling off the other side of the desk despite her best attempts to hold on.

And from what I'd witnessed, Millie wouldn't have had the slightest complaint.

But I did. Never had I been with a woman who made me want to do relationship things. Dates. Gifts. Inside jokes. Seduction.

It should have been the same way with Millie. A couple of fucks to get it the lust out of our system. Then we could both move on. Perhaps it was our circumstances. The forced proximity that made everything seem more intense, but a voice I tried desperately to ignore warned me it wasn't, because Millie hadn't just appealed to my base nature as a man. She'd gotten under my skin and elicited the urge to protect her. The urge I'd only ever felt for my family.

Hearing her admit she was in trouble with Melnyk wasn't a surprise, and it wasn't an enormous leap to accept it as proof she and Marcus were attempting to defraud the Reeds to get the money to pay off their debts. I'd nearly killed men for less. Harry's bloodied face came to mind. Instead, it made my heart seize to have proof she was in danger, and it made my ego swell that she trusted me enough to be honest.

Breaking our kiss, I loosened my hold so she slid down my body until her feet were back on the ground. My hands slipped beneath her blouse, her back softer than the silk she wore, and I stifled a groan as the points of contact between our body sent a rush of fire through me, straight to my cock. Millie's eyes widened, then darkened as she felt it twitch between us. Licking her lips, she curled her fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck and raised up on her toes to reconnect our mouths.

With a slow shake of my head, I stepped back and pulled the rest of the Christmas decorations from the bags and boxes. She hung back, the fire behind her bathing her in gold light and velvet shadows. There was a question in her eyes. One edged in hurt, and I offered a soft smile, hoping it would ease her concerns.

I could only guess what she was thinking. I was a fucking Katy Perry song right now. Hot and cold. And I considered giving in and giving us what we both wanted. She would look gorgeous against the forest green satin sheets covering my bed. Blonde hair fanning around her head, sheets bunching between her curled fingers, legs spread wide as I moved between them. I already knew the sounds she made when she came. Now, I wanted to see the face she made.

The ornament in my hand fractured when my grip tightened, and I sucked in a curse, praying Millie didn't notice. No wonder Mrs. R insisted on plastic ornaments in a house where two boys frequently rough-housed. I hid the damaged decoration in the back of the tree and picked up another, this time keeping my touch light and my thoughts clean—or as clean as they could be with Millie in the same room, still wearing that ridiculously tight skirt.

"Why don't you go put something a little more comfortable on," I suggested, dangling an ornament in the air. "Then we can finish the tree."

She tilted her head. The hurt was still there, but a playful light entered her eyes. "How comfortable are we talking?"

Thank fuck, I was holding the string and not the glass. Clearing my throat, I replied. "Christmas music and cocoa comfy."

I shouldn't have worried the answer would disappoint her. With a squeal, she rushed back to her room, and a laugh rumbled in my chest. If my ego wasn't in tiptop shape, it might insult me her desires were so easily swayed by the temptation of decorating for Christmas.

With her gone, I walked to the kitchen to start the kettle and grabbed coffee mugs. Two mugs—plain white. I made a note to order something more festive, then rubbed the back of my head as I wondered who the hell had taken over my brain. Millie Gordon. That's who.

"Shit," I muttered and pulled out my phone. I crossed the kitchen and peeked down the hallway. Her door was still closed. I pressed the speed dial. Two rings and he answered. "James. I need someone to contact Melnyk."

Silence pulsed through the phone. If it was anyone but James, I might think he was at a loss for words, but his genius brain was combing through a dozen scenarios. And, as usual, he landed on the right one when he asked if there would be a money transfer involved.

"Yes. I want to know the exact price, and I want anything you've got on Marcus so far. By tomorrow morning." The bedroom door creaked open, and I jumped back like a child trying to avoid being caught. "Well, he isn't the fucking president. There has to be something. If anyone can find it, it's you."

Strange. It wasn't like James to struggle with getting information on anyone. In fact, I was fairly certain we had something on the president. The only way you could hide like that was if you were in a security business like me, or if you were in an organization that spent a lot of money to hide. My money was on the latter, and a shiver went down my spine at the implications.

The kettle whistled as I ended the call. I poured it over the chocolate powder at the bottom of the cups. A quick stir and a generous mound of whip cream followed. Perfection.

"Millie?" I called.

Worry tightened my gut. I stepped into the hallway, desperate to see her, even though there was no way she could get out of the apartment without going through the front door. If Alex was here, he would tell me to get a grip.

She stood in the hall, arms wrapped around her waist, while she looked away from me. I peered into the darkness to see what she was looking at, but all that was visible were the doors to my bedroom and the office. A smirk tugged on my lips. Maybe she wasn't as easily persuaded by Christmas decor as I thought.

"Hot chocolate is ready."

Millie jumped. A smile quickly erased her guilty expression, and she greedily took the hot cup. "We need music."

"Remote is on the coffee table."

She walked in front of me and set her drink down. I looked back toward the rooms and reminded myself the wait was going to be worth it. Classic holiday music filled the apartment, drawing my attention back to the living room and the woman dancing by the tree as she hung ornaments.

I grinned. She was worth it.