“You think I want a quick f**k?”
I shook my head and bit my lip. Honestly, I didn’t know what he wanted but at that precise moment, I wasn’t going to say that.
“You think I’d touch you unless it meant something?”
Holy crap.
I held my breath thinking about what that might mean, my eyes widened, the tears stinging them began to threaten to fill them.
His hands moved from my face to my hips.
“Christ, Indy, there’s more to me than this.” He yanked my hips, putting them in brutal, intimate contact with his and the hardness between them.
He held me there for a minute and stared into my eyes.
Then he said, “Forget it.”
He put his hands on the couch, pushed himself up and got off me.
“What?” I asked, dumbfounded, my body in temporary shock at the loss of the weight of his, my brain not caffeinated enough to think clearly.
He stared down at me, his face hard and blank. Just like it was when it closed down when Dad asked him if he hit me.
“Get dressed, I’ll take you home.”
I blinked.
“What?” I asked again.
He hauled me off the couch and set me on my jellied legs.
“I said, get dressed, pack your shit. I’ll take you home.”
I blinked again. Then I did it again.
Say what?
“Hang on a second…” I started.
He was walking away, muttering to himself. “I knew I shouldn’t have started this. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
Um, say what?
I narrowed my eyes at his back. “Excuse me?”
He was gone.
The tears were no longer threatening in my eyes, they’d filled them and they were flowing over. But instead of them being full of the confused emotions of a woman who was close to getting everything she ever wanted and was scared to death of it, they were tears of a pissed off woman-on-the-edge who was close to murdering someone.
Emotional tears were unacceptable.
Pissed off tears were perfectly fine, so I let them flow.
I stomped into the bedroom and started to tear through it. I pulled on a pair of jeans, my bra and my Def Leppard T-shirt, my black belt and boots from the night before. I found my handbag sitting on my clothes in the armchair which Lee must have recovered for me last night.
He’d get no thanks from me for that act of thoughtfulness.
I shoved anything I found that was mine in my bag, rifling through drawers and the closet, making an utter mess along the way. I didn’t care, I was way beyond caring about tidiness.