Forbidden Fruit (Shannon Cheney) - By Ann Aguirre Page 0,20

have no idea what he’s thinking. With a sigh, Jesse wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Don’t be nervous, Shan. I won’t do anything. I was an asshole to treat you like I did in the car.”

I laugh. “Seriously? You think that’s why I’m uptight?”

“No?”

“In my mind, that’s the best move you’ve made where I’m concerned, and certainly the most honest. And now you’re back to being the good guy, the one with perfect manners. I’m afraid you’ll raise up the walls between us and I’ll have to start all over again.” I pause, wondering if I should say this. “I don’t know if I have the energy. I mean, I want you. I’ve made no secret of it. But I won’t chase you forever.”

“Is that an ultimatum?” He sounds coldly furious.

I’m a little proud of myself. I didn’t know it was possible to make Jesse angry so fast. “Just a fact. In time, I’ll move on, find someone who wants me more.”

Rage bludgeons me. For the second time tonight, he loses control and his emotions hit me like a hammer. It’s a mad wash of fury, jealousy, frustration, and a hint of possession that thrills me to my core. He might be struggling, but he doesn’t take me lightly.

“That would be impossible,” he growls.

I never imagined he’d be so intense; he projects such casual charm. Most likely, other women couldn’t handle it, so he hides. He pretends to be gentle and tender, no darker feelings, no obsessive tendencies. He’s been playing that violin so long, it’s become the only tune he knows. But I don’t just want his sweetness.

I want everything.

“Tell me about her,” I say then.

“Who?” I’ve surprised him.

“The girl who made you like this. Before, you said you haven’t felt this way since high school. I’m guessing it didn’t end well.”

“It never does.”

I stare at him until he shifts uneasily. Then he pushes out a sigh of mingled annoyance and capitulation. “You want to know how it goes, sugar? I’m a black hole. I want and need and I devour their feelings, until they’re empty, too. Nobody can satisfy me. And I drive everyone away in the end.”

“I’m still here.”

“That’s because you’re not actually with me. If you were, you’d come to hate yourself…and me. Because you’d see me reacting to other women, just like they did. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to reciprocate when somebody wants you and you can feel their desire coursing through you, sweet and hot? It’s like a drug.”

Suddenly, I understand—and the barrier isn’t what I thought. He’s not thinking about how wrong I am for him, or that I’m too young anymore. It’s not being with me that he fears; it’s losing me. And I fall in love so hard that I see stars.

“Well, here’s my opinion: I don’t care where you start the fire, as long as you bring it home to me.”

Desperation wars with hope in his dark eyes. “You say that now. But it wears away at you. I’ve heard it so many times, why aren’t I enough for you? Why—?”

“Don’t compare me to other women, Jesse. That’s not fair, and…I’m not doing it to you.”

“Stop,” he begs, pained. “You’re so fucking lovely that there must’ve been guys, but when I think about it, I could kill somebody.”

“Fair enough.”

“Give me some time. Not long. Just…I need to think.”

“Are you sure? Thinking is bad.” But I’m teasing him. When I said I’d move on, I meant after fruitless months…or maybe even years. I’ve never been in this situation before, so I can’t say with any surety when I’d run out of patience. So if he needs a few days to consider where we go from here, that’s fine.

And he knows this. That’s a handy adjunct to his empathy; he can feel my amusement. His expression lightens to relief and appreciation. I don’t have to worry about stupid fights with Jesse. He’ll always know how I’m feeling when I say something. It also means there will be no secrets, no quietly nursed resentments. I bet most women found that much honesty terrifying, but I’m on board.

“If…when…we do this, just know…I’m gonna be possessive as hell. I’ll crowd you. I might annoy you. And I don’t want—”

“Hey. None of that’s a surprise to me. If you start bugging me, I’ll push back. I’m not made of spun sugar and unicorn whiskers.”

“Do unicorns have whiskers?”

I grin at him. “That’s completely beside the point.”

Jesse puts on a movie after