Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,66

curve of my hip. “I wake up wanting you. I go to sleep wanting you. I want you as soon as I’m done having you.”

“Annie bought me a dildo,” I blurted out.

His eyes lit up, amusement there. “What?”

“When I flew to Dallas. She said she didn’t want me to miss you.”

“And?” He quirked a brow, staring at me. Waiting for my response, his stare intense.

I just stared back, teasing him with my silence. Knowing that his imagination was running wild.

“And I used it. And pretended it was you.”

He groaned, rolling onto his back. “Jesus now I can’t picture anything else.”

I grinned. “I see no problem with that.”

“You’re a tease.”

“I don’t think a tease would’ve done what we just did.”

He yanked me over him, rolling me to the other side of the bed and yanking me up against him. So that we were spooning, and his hand rested on my hip. “You’re not ready for another round,” he said, “So I suggest we talk about something else before I ignore all reason.”

“Like what?” I said.

“Like anything.”

We sat quietly for a while, the only disruption the occasional car passing by on the road below, their headlights sliding across the wall. He’d left the curtains open from earlier, when he’d stared down at me in the driveway.

“I think you should go to the wake,” I said, finally breaking the silence. Beside me, he stiffened. I almost regretted bringing it up.

Almost. Because he needed to go. Needed to heal. Even if I had to push him to do it.

He pulled away, just a fraction of an inch, so that his head was on the pillow instead of nestled up against my neck. I hated it.

“It’s not up for discussion,” he said, his voice firm. Flat again, and emotionless. I hated that he was hiding himself from me, burying his feelings behind a brick wall. Like I didn’t know him better, like I couldn’t see how much this was eating at him.

“I think it would be good for you.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, anger creeping back in.

“So make me get it,” I replied, refusing to back down. I wasn’t the teenage girl he left behind, accepting any scrap of himself he’d give me.

I wanted more. I wanted to see past his stony façade and know the man inside. I’d trusted him when I walked through his front door. He needed to trust me with his emotions. He owed me that.

“I don’t owe you anything,” he said, as if he could read my mind. “Least of all this.”

It was impossible to ignore the dull stab in the chest at his words. Impossible to pretend he hadn’t just gotten to the root of the reason I couldn’t trust him, the reason I was so afraid to love him.

“You think I need you to remind me of that?” I snapped. “That you owe me nothing, that I’m not something to you?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, his tone softening. “Of course you’re something. But this is one topic I’m not discussing with you. With anyone.”

“This isn’t even about me. It’s about you. It’s about you saying goodbye to him and moving past all of this. You’ve accomplished everything you set out to do, and yet you can’t stop pushing. He’s dead, Landon. There’s nothing left to prove.”

I knew I was being harsh. Rough. Picking at his vulnerable spots. But I would rather see him react than watch him keep pretending it wasn’t a big deal, that his father’s death was meaningless.

“You have no idea what that man was like.” I was facing the wall, couldn’t see the shadows that must’ve been in his expression, but I could hear them.

“I think I have a clue,” I said, twisting onto my back and turning to look at him. He was propped up on his arm, his broad chest left bare. “I’m not blind.”

“I’m not saying you’re blind. But when someone doesn’t want you to see something, they can do a damn good job at hiding it.”

“Hiding what?” I asked, my voice barley above a whisper. Landon never talked about this. Never opened up about his past. He was too strong, too bold to admit weakness.

“I hid everything,” he said, his voice strong, but his eyes betraying the sadness. “I hid the bruises he left on me as a kid, and the blood on my knuckles when I was old enough to defend myself. My dad was the angriest, nastiest man I’ve ever met. I refuse to do shit