The Little Dove #2 ✔️

57. Tough Dad Vibes

CHAPTER 57: Tough Dad Vibes

I almost drop the silver phone from my hands, my knees lower to the bed, as I hear him breathing raggedly-his words to me-the strength in them, the authority and the power and the rage. I could feel his anger so prominently as I lowered the phone from my ear. I take minuscule steps towards my door, wearing nothing but black and white short shorts and a dark red, long-sleeved cotton sweater. I made a slow pathway down the stairs, the lightning flickering beyond me as one of the maids looked up to me, "Miss, someone is at the door for you." She whispers, I nod slowly, giving her a soft smile.

"Thank you," I whisper, almost shakily, as I wait for her to leave the low-lit corridor and turn towards the open front door. I stop short at what I see, my eyes widening at his mere sight. He looked overbearing in his massive height, his grand frame blockaded against the door, lightning flashed, and I saw his murderous expression. He wore boots, a tight leather jacket zipped well against his accenting muscles. My eyes flicker, water drips down his cheeks, and he roughly unzips the jacket, shoving his large helmet to the tiled ground as he lifts a foot inside the house.

I watch him step into the light, candles surrounding my background of him. He rips his leather gloves, "Not one fucking phone call to tell me you were alive?" He asks me, he snaps at me in the harshest of tones, so dark on his tongue, but in great honestly, it went straight to my legs. I missed him. So much so that I was frozen, stock-still, and utterly shocked that he managed to find me, maybe even followed Marvin to this address.

He ripped off the next glove, his silk raven strands and darkened silver orb eyes penetrated my shaking form the closer he trudged against the tiles, smearing rock and dirt along the beige floor. No one cared, "NOTHING, MELANIE?!" He yells at me.

"NOT A SINGLE CALL!"

I gasp at the momentum of his voice, flinching, but he doesn't stop-No, instead, he prowls forward like the ultimate predator he is and doesn't caress when he surges forward and raises me off the ground. The soaking water was evaporating against the fire that burned against his skin. He felt overheated to the point where my skin was already blistering at the walking inferno that held me up against him. He pulls my legs apart as I curl them underneath his leather jacket.

His jaw is clenched, eyes are hooded dangerously, "Tell me why you would not call? I would have been here in a fucking nanosecond. Do you know what I've felt for the past two weeks? I wanted to end this pain, do you understand that?" He growls lowly, the rumbling in his chest as I feel the weight of his words against my skin.

It's my time to surge forward, "No-don't." I whisper. My lips were a breath away from his. I close my eyes, dropping my head against his cheek, hollow and highly defined, toned as he squeezes me, flushing me against him. I enclosed my arms around his neck, nuzzling into him like a big baby, but when I inhaled his dangerous scent, I moved my nose towards his neck, smiling against his skin.

"I love you," I say but three words. He has one hand holding me up and the other on the back of my head. He dives his nose into my neck, ruffling through my sunshine blonde curls as his hands spread their fingers wide. He tilts my head up, and when two crevices of moist perfection meet my lips, I kiss him back just as fiercely. His hair was soaking through my fingers, dripping down the palm of my hands as I molded myself to him.

"I-" He moves his lips, his voice forming one word at a time as he devours my lips in his, full and tender, heated and damn wild for me, "-love-" He continues, hand massaging the back of my neck, nose sliding down mine, breathes becoming more entangled than ever before. I squeeze my eyes closed as he says one last word, possessively, protectively, and with nothing short of passionate love, "-you." I attack his lips in my fierce movements, my hips move on their own accord, he growls lowly in his chest, meeting me head-on with something along a brighter flame and a darker storm, kicking the front door closed, he spins, and my back connects with the wood of the door.