Longer, even before he stormed into my apartment and made the first move. I’d crushed on Theo West ever since I knew what that was, and whether he knew it or not, it’d been brewing to this inevitable outcome since.
“Fuck,” he rumbled, before his hand gripped my jaw and tipped my head to meet his dark gaze. “Are you trying to ruin this?”
I took a deep breath. “Maybe I’m doing the exact opposite. Pretend all you want, but even if we are scarred and broken, that doesn’t mean we aren’t deserving of some good in our lives.”
His fingers tightened but not enough to hurt. We stared at each other like that, his eyes piercing mine, refusing to blink. The first one who did would lose, and we were both too prideful for that. He wasn’t the only one pretending to be somebody else, after all. I was selfish. I’ve wanted Theo West for most of my life in any way I could have him. I wanted all his attention, affection, and time. I got along with his wife for him, his “friends” who I learned were no more than associates as I’d gotten older, and anyone else I knew was important. All for me, so I could call him mine.
“I’m not the one who showed up drunk at your house,” I reminded him breathily. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but that would be backing down. We never talked about it because I’d been too afraid. But in moments like this, with his hands on me, I felt confident.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“I’m not the one,” I said despite his protesting, “who made the first move. Who begged you to kiss me. To touch me. To lick me because I needed you to know what I tasted like. That was you, Theo. All of it. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want it or that I don’t think about it. I do. A lot. Especially knowing that you made the choice to push me against that wall and—”
He cursed again before his mouth was on mine and my back was pushed against the wall similarly to how this unraveled the first time. I knew the painting was still there, pressing against the back of my calves, and I didn’t care. What I cared about was barely recognizable because his lips and teeth and tongue were dominating my mouth until all thoughts were hazy at best.
Grip tightening on my jaw, I winced as he rolled his hips into mine to pin me there. He was hard, and heat instantly pooled between my legs when I tried getting the friction I needed to get myself off, but he refused to let me move. One of his hands trailed down my side and grabbed my hip, kneading the muscle as his tongue twisted with mine and his teeth nicked my bottom lip. He wasn’t too rough, but he wasn’t gentle either. It was a combination I wouldn’t expect any differently from a man like him.
Just as I started lifting my leg to wrap it around him, he pulled back and slammed a fist into the wall. I flinched at the abrupt change as he backed away, his fingers going to his hair. What I didn’t expect was the harsh glare that he gave me, like I was somehow to blame for him kissing me. Again. Had I egged him on? Yes. But he was a grown man who made his own decisions.
“Don’t you dare say it,” I warned, trying to hold back the sting of tears. My nose burned as I watched his jaw lock. He was in his head, thinking, overanalyzing, and all I wanted him to do was stop. “Christ, Adele, that was a mistake.”
Those words hurt even still.
“Maybe you’ll have some inspiration now,” was what he said instead, walking to the door.
What. The. Fuck. “Is that what we’re going to pretend that was? You helping me find some sort of emotion to use for my project?”
He paused by the door. “That was me giving you what you wanted, but stopping it before I couldn’t take it back.”
I wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t a firm kick to the chest. So, instead of telling him as much, I stared at his tense back and walked toward the door. He blocked my way, so I brushed past him just barely touching his shoulder with mine and jerked away when he reached out.
Turning to look at him, I met his distant eyes and said, “For the record, you