Stalker - Clarissa Wild Page 0,115
of me.
“I hate you so much for everything you’ve done. For ruining my life. For taking away everything I wanted. And still, my heart tells me to forgive you and move on.” He laughs. “Because no matter how much I try … I can’t stop loving you.”
I take a deep breath but can’t seem to let it go. I feel paralyzed by what he just said. There is only one thing in my body that still feels alive, and it’s my heart, pulsing for him.
“Fuck …” he whispers. “Do I look like a fucking guy who can love? I mean, honestly, look at me.”
“I am,” I say.
This shuts him up completely for a few seconds.
“We’re fucking wasted on destruction,” I say.
“That we are …” He muffles a laugh.
“This isn’t funny, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
“You just tried to kill me,” I say.
He tilts his head. “And you just tried to kill me.”
When I try to push him off me, he grabs my wrists again and slams them above my head. “We’re both dirty fucking killers, Vanessa,” he says.
“Let me go,” I say.
“Or what? You’re going to run? You’re going to kill me? I doubt it.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, biting my lip.
“I do because you’re still not telling the truth. At least, not to yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” I say as he crawls on top of me again.
“I’m talking about the fact that you, after everything I’ve done to you, still think of me as someone you could be with.”
I swallow away the lump in my throat. “No.” I shake my head. “Impossible. We’re two different people.”
“Two different people united by the same lust for vengeance. Hate. Murderous tendencies.” He leans in closer. “I know you’re lying, Princess. I can smell it.” He sucks in a breath with his nose.
I shiver underneath him, feeling the sparks alight. “I’m not … I can’t. This just can’t.”
“It can because you want it to. Because I want it to. Stop saying and thinking things that aren’t true. You know as well as I do that it’s unavoidable.”
His eyes are half-mast, sultry, almost seductive, and I can’t help but want to lean in for a kiss.
It’s disturbing, I know. After just wanting to kill him, and him wanting to choke me, I still desire him. Our connection feels stronger than ever now that I’ve spoken the truth, and it’s hard to ignore the growing tension between us. It’s the flipside of deep-seated hatred … love bursting underneath the surface, ready to pop out and grow.
But is it really the right thing?
I press my lips together, and he brings his hand to my face. I expect another slap, and close my eyes, but instead, he surprises me by caressing my cheek. When I open my eyes, he’s smiling.
“I’ll forgive you, if you’ll forgive me,” he whispers.
I blink a couple of times. “How? After all of this?”
“Just say the words,” he muses. “Forgive and forget.”
“I …” I take a deep breath as a single tear runs down my cheek. He catches it with his finger and puts it in his mouth, sucking hard.
“Hmm … Nothing like some tears in the morning.”
I shake my head, chuckling to myself. “You’re one sick bastard.”
“One sick bastard you’re in love with.”
This comment makes me want to look away, but I don’t. I’ve looked away enough. All this time, I’ve turned my head, twisted my own heart, and denied the very truth in order to live a good life. However, this was anything but a good life, thanks to my mother. And I can’t help but wonder how it would’ve been if I’d run off with Miles.
I reach for his face and cup his scruffy jaw, and he leans in to let me feel him. His black hair falls across his face so messily, so crude … just the way I like it.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He smiles a little, looking down at me.
“I’m really sorry,” I repeat, tears welling up in my eyes.
But then he stops my tears with a kiss so deep it takes my breath away.
His mouth latches onto mine with ferocity, almost wanting to suck the love out of me. I know he can feel it, and I can taste it from his licks. No matter how much we try to hide it, we still crave each other. Need each other.
I wrap my hands around his head, wanting him closer than ever before. No restraints to hold me back, no prison to keep me locked. I am