The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 181

Miles suddenly closed the distance between them, his cool fingertips gripping her chin and sending a violent shiver down her spine.

The suffocating lack of space between them made it nearly impossible for her to breathe under the sheer weight of his presence.

He tightened his hold, a slow, predatory smirk curving his lips.

"Since you did all this to get back at Jefferson, you haven't exactly succeeded yet. Why stop the seduction now?"

"Why admit to it so easily?"

His gaze grew terrifyingly dark.

"Or is it because you found out Jefferson broke off his engagement? Now that you can get back together with him, you don't even need to pretend with me anymore?"

She shook her head in denial, her breathing so ragged she could barely speak. She opened her mouth, but all she could manage was his name.

"Miles, I didn't..."

He tilted her head up higher, his voice dropping an octave.

"Didn't what? Didn't lie to me, or didn't actually love Jefferson?"

His calloused thumb brushed roughly over her bottom lip, leaving it swollen and impossibly tempting.

"Claire, do you have any idea that I can't believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"

Ten years ago, he believed her. Ten years later, he fell for it again. Both times ended in utter disaster.

The words died in Claire's throat.

He pressed down harder. "That mouth of yours is much better suited for other things. I thought you were an expert at seduction. Playing mute now?"

Claire's face crumpled, her voice trembling. "Miles..."

He pressed flush against her, their noses almost touching, his scorching breath fanning her skin as he rasped out his words.

"Haven't I told you to finish what you start? If you want to play games, you don't get to quit halfway through."

He crashed his lips down on hers, biting down hard enough to draw a gasp.

His other hand effortlessly pinned down her struggling legs, traveling upward to wickedly undo the button of her jeans.

Panic flared within her.

By the beach, in the car...

She fought wildly, which only made his movements more aggressive.

"Stop squirming. Weren't you feeling bold before? Saying you wanted it against the floor-to-ceiling windows, in the shower, or out in the park?"

"Claire, didn't you love to play? I'll satisfy every fantasy you listed. We can try them one by one."

Pressed flush against the cold car window, a chill sank into her back.

But the man towering over her was burning up. His gaze was bloodshot and completely feral as his hands gripped and molded her curves with enough force to make her wince.

He looked as though he wanted to devour her whole.

He kissed her again, the sheer intensity of his movements causing the entire car to rock.

Claire turned her head to dodge him, hot tears spilling down her cheeks and landing directly on his hand. Miles froze.

The interior plunged back into silence, save for his ragged breathing. He withdrew his hands, bracing himself above her with every muscle coiled tight.

"Why the hell are you crying?"

"I should be the one crying. I let you play me like a damn fool, over and over again."

Dragging his pride through the dirt wasn't enough; she had to crush it into dust.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second before locking his gaze onto hers, bathed in the pale light of Moonlight Cove.

There was nothing around her but sand and the ocean. She wouldn't even be able to hail a ride out here. That bastard!

Barely a quarter of a mile down the road, Miles slammed on the brakes. He killed the engine and slumped back against his seat.

From this vantage point, he had a clear view of Claire. She was wandering aimlessly along the beach, frequently checking her phone, likely trying to book a ride.

He pulled out his own phone and made a call.

"Head to Moonlight Cove and pick Claire up. Be quick about it."

He paused, his voice turning rough. "Bring a woman's jacket and some shoes. Pick up some food, too, but no mangoes. She's allergic."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And make sure the heater is cranked up on the drive back."

The person on the other end paused in surprise before noting down every instruction.

Hanging up, Miles rolled the window back down and dug a pack of cigarettes out of the center console. He rarely smoked; these had been left behind by Finn Zorn.

He lit one up, the cherry burning a harsh red in the pitch-black night as smoke filled the cabin.

His gaze never once left that lonely silhouette on the beach.

A car finally pulled up. Claire exchanged a few words with the driver, likely confirming the ride, before climbing in and leaving the cove.

Only then did Miles roll his window up and look away.

He stubbed the cigarette out with his bare fingers. The burn stung, but it didn't hurt—just left a lingering, hollow numbness.

Everyone in Empire City envied Miles Zimmerman. He was the golden boy born with a silver spoon, blessed with impeccable looks and unrivaled power.

But only he knew the truth. In front of Claire Jenner, his status meant absolutely nothing. He was worse than a stray dog.

At least a dog showed affection if you cared for it long enough. Claire was utterly heartless.

He sat in the silence for a little longer before stepping out of the car. Facing the crashing waves, he bent down, stood up, and bent down again, endlessly searching the sand...