“I’m sorry.” I mean it. It’s sincere. Her trust is something I’d never betray. Her heart, I’ve obviously lost that battle. But her body? Never. That’s hers. It’s her choice.
“Don’t be... I just...” she sniffles. “You were with someone else last night. Having you that close, I hate it.”
I swallow back the dryness. She’s right. I’m a prick. “No one is you either, Gumby.”
Her eyes connect with mine with a ferocity that hurts to see. “Don’t fucking call me that. You lost that right when you stepped out on me.”
“Stepped out on you?!” I holler, unable to refrain from raising my voice. “You fucked Francis first. You cheated first. I just followed in your footsteps.”
“Fuck you,” she hisses. “I’m done with this. You’re like a fucking tornado, Tobias. You spin me around and around, leaving a chaotic mess of me, and then when you’re done, you apologize. It’s bullshit. You are bullshit.”
She heads toward our room, and a few minutes later, I follow. I can’t let her leave like this. Not while she’s upset and angry. I’ve walked away so many times. I’ve hurt her, and now I need to see what makes her stay.
It’s not my money.
It’s apparently not my dick.
It has to be something like her dad threatening her too.
She’s no Lo.
She doesn’t stay for love. No one in their right mind would.
“Go away,” she growls as I close the door behind us. My eyes roam her lithe body. The wide set of her hips, her long legs, and when she turns, her bare breasts overwhelm me. She’s fucking gorgeous. It’s why I keep my distance when she changes or showers. I need to be strong because seeing her without clothing is too fucking maddening. Not just to my dick, but to my soul. She shreds through me.
She shouldn’t be allowed to be naked. Not when passions are heavy, especially when they’re the angry kind as it brings me little control.
She holds all the power. She always has. It’s why I’m not jumping her right now, reclaiming what’s mine and fucking her into submission. But, God, I want to.
“Fuck,” I breathe, loving that the freckles I’ve fallen in love with still go beyond her cheeks and nose. Her body is a masterpiece. She’s so beautiful and so goddamn mine. Even if we’ve both forgotten that fact.
“Don’t come any closer.” She sighs, and it’s in those words that I hear the weakness. Either I need to test this limit and touch her, or she needs to smack me.
My feet move before I can process what’s happening, and she doesn’t stop me. I halt several steps away and wait for her to tell me to leave her. We have that trust. She knows she can tell me no. It’s something I love about us.
When my feet touch hers, she bites her lip. It’s an expression I’ve missed. Our hatred is turmoil, how it burns and ignites by contact. We’re the gasoline, and the fire is our passion.
We’re a disaster together, but apart, we’re non-existent. I need her. She needs me.
“Tell me to stop, Joey. Tell me to fucking stop.” The heat of my words has her licking her lips. There’s something in her expression. It boils beneath the surface, and I want to touch and taste it. See if it burns as much as it looks like it will.
She doesn’t say anything, but she tilts her head to give me access. I bend and kiss her throat. Fuck. The taste of her is so fresh and lively. She’s a goddamn treat after the staved dryness I’ve experienced. I don’t kiss women. Joey being my only exception.
Just as going down on them isn’t allowed, kissing isn’t either. My relations with them were strictly meant to hurt Joey. It had no value in connection. It did nothing but make me loathe myself further.
She can’t hate me any more than I hate myself. Of that, I’m now certain.
I could die and be at ease, but then she’d have to live with my ruin.
No one deserves that burden. Even if she asked for it.
“This means nothing,” she whimpers. “Hate can feel just as good as love.”
And with those words, she’s walking into our bathroom and leaving me with the hardest erection I’ve had in ages.
Fuck. That resilience. It’s what drew me to her. It hasn’t ebbed even an ounce. She’s just a good fucking liar.