Heartbreak Me by T.L. Smith Page 0,53
it, like I need to hear it or something.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, it’s not what I do. And it’s considered impolite to… ‘fuck and leave’ as you so disrespectfully put it.” I raise my head. “You fuck with people’s emotions when you do something like that.”
“I’ll stay… if that’s what you want. But I am not great company.”
“I don’t even want you here in the first place,” I tell him while shaking my head. “So why are we still talking about this.”
Atlas reaches out, and I am too slow to stop him from touching me this time. He grips my waist and pulls me to him.
“Stop! Just stop touching me. All you do is touch me.”
“I like to touch you.”
“You hated me a week ago and were willing to give me to your damn clients,” I say as his hands lightly stroke down my arm while he holds onto me.
“I would never have let one touch you. Ever,” he whispers in my ear. “Not something so precious.” He bites my ear. “So delicious.”
I push the door shut behind him, and in the next second my hands are all over him.
I blame lack of sleep—that has to be the reason my mind is allowing this to happen.
Because common sense has gone straight out the window, and in its place stands me, a stupid girl who makes crazy decisions regarding good looking bad men.
Atlas Hyde being at the top of my list.
Actually, he’s the only man on that list.
His kisses come in hot and fast while his hands circle and touch everywhere they shouldn’t. But like being caught in the ocean, I can’t seem to catch a breath unless it’s with him, and he is swallowing me whole.
“Theadora.”
“Hmmm…” is all I can manage to get out as he grips my ass cheeks and pushes me back so my ass hits the top of my couch.
“You can’t hate me when I leave,” he says, trailing kisses between my breasts. “I will leave, and you can’t hate me then.”
“I already hate you,” I tell him, my hands touching his hair. “It makes it easier.” My lips touch his, and I feel his smile on them.
Why am I such a sucker for him?
What is so special about Atlas Hyde that I can’t seem to say no?
Yes, he is good looking.
Yes, he makes my body sing every time he touches me.
Yes, when his lips touch me, I feel like I’m on fire, and the only way to put me out is with him. Only him.
“I’m sure it does. Now how the fuck do I get these jeans off?” He pulls at them, and I step back. Getting rid of them, his gaze tracks my movements, and when I look back up at him, I see the bulge that I felt against me.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I say, shaking my head and backing away. My jeans are off, in a pile on the floor, but my hands and my body aren’t touching him now.
The spell is broken.
“Theadora.”
“Oh, we for sure shouldn’t do this,” I say, shaking my head and looking away.
“Theadora, look at me.”
I do. My eyes find him, and when they do, I almost weep at the sight.
“Come here, Theadora.”
My feet start moving toward him like I have no control, and when I reach him, he wastes no time pulling me back to him, and my body feels him. Everywhere. Because he’s completely naked.
“I don’t like you.”
“I’ll stay. I’ll stay after,” he says, reassuring me.
Lips so soft take mine. There’s no hardness in his touch as he places me on the couch and removes my shirt. Atlas’s lips move from mine. His body weight presses down on me. I can feel him between my legs, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he shifts one of his hands between my legs and starts to rub while his lips touch my breast, his tongue circles my nipple, and I have to remember I don’t like this man who’s pushing all the right buttons. When he moves lower with his mouth so he is between my legs, I have to remember that it’s just sex. And that his mouth isn’t sent from the gods, and that he can’t be the only person who can pleasure me in this way. Even if I have never experienced anything like this before with anyone but him.
Does he feel the same about me? Am I different? Or, am I like all the others he’s been with?
Lost in my own head,