delicious than she remembered!
John was in the throes of his own emotional dilemma as lust and desire licked a burning path up his spine. Gillian was breathtaking, dressed in an off the shoulder, slouchy, white shirt and black, lacy boy shorts. Her long, straight hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she had a pair of black rimmed glasses covering her emerald eyes. His kitten had no makeup on, and all he wanted to do was bury himself deep inside of her. Even now, he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and take her straight to a bed. Being near Gillian physically was like being shocked repeatedly by a strong, electrical current. John could tell she was feeling the sensations, too, by the lust turning her emerald eyes a light shade of blue. Maybe John could fuck her first and then apologize later, but somehow, he doubted it.
"Hello, kitten," he said in a husky, smoker's voice as he slowly began to shorten the distance between them.
When Gillian's eyes met John's, tears immediately formed in their green depths. Her body began to shake uncontrollably as she put out her hands, attempting to stop his actions. "Stop, John! Don't come any closer!" Gillian shouted as the large Brit continued toward her. The tears that formed in her eyes began to fall when his masculine, clean scent touched her nostrils. Backing away from him, she put the sofa in between them as she yelled, "Stop, damn it! I need you to leave!"
John froze in place and felt a pain blaze across his chest as he watched the tears fall down her cheeks. The hurt he had caused her was evident in her lovely face. What if she didn't forgive him? The fear he felt had his own heart pounding, but his voice was calm as he softly said, "Kitten, I need to talk to you."
"No!" Gillian yelled, shaking her head vigorously. "You hurt me, John! There is nothing that needs to be said! Get out before I call the police."
"I just want to talk, sweetheart."
"No!" the American yelled. "There is nothing for us to talk about. What you did to me…there is nothing you can say to make it better."
John felt the wetness building in his own eyes as he watched the tears flow down her face. What the fuck had he done to her? How could he make this right? "I'm sorry, kitten," he blurted out in a soft, deep tone.
Meeting his gaze as she wiped the tears from her own emerald eyes, Gillian asked, "What did you say?"
"I said I'm sorry, kitten."
"What exactly are you sorry for, John?"
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the Brit's eyes never left hers as he said, "I'm sorry for the way I have treated you. I should have never given you the check. I was being a dick."
Was John apologizing to her? There was no way in hell that he was going to get off that easy! "Why did you do that to me, John? I never would have treated you that way. You have no idea what it's like to be treated like a whore! People have treated me that way for most of my life!"
John could not even begin to express the shame and guilt that he was feeling for the way he had treated Gillian. He hated to admit it, but he also was feeling a tremendous amount of fear. What if she didn't forgive him? He wanted to admit his feelings to her but was confused by what he was feeling. He hated feeling vulnerable, but at the same time, John knew he couldn't lie to her. With a heavy sigh, the Brit ran an agitated hand through his ebony hair. "I was trying to hurt you," John barked, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Why?" Gillian asked brokenly. "Why would you want to hurt me?"
"Because you fucking hurt me!" John yelled, taking a step toward her. "You left me! You didn't want me! What the fuck else was I supposed to do, kitten?"
"Didn't want you? I left you because you slept with me and then found your way into Pandora's bed!"
"Don't be daft, kitten!" John exclaimed angrily through clenched teeth. "I haven't fucked Pandora, or any woman for that matter, since I brought you into my home!"
Not believing him, Gillian said, "I saw you that morning, John! I asked you if you—"
Not allowing her to finish, John cut her off, yelling, "You asked me if I had