Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,494

its own, the compliment making my body feel hotter than it already is in the hot summer night. Someone behind me exits the store, the telltale jingle of the bells and the whoosh of air-conditioning reminding me that I’m supposed to be in and out of this store. Reminding me that Evan isn’t a part of my to-do list tonight.

“I never said you weren’t my type,” I say and my voice comes out sultry, laced with the desire I feel coursing in my blood. I try to hold his gaze, but the fire and intensity swirling in his dark eyes makes me back down.

I can try to be tough all I want, but he’s a bad boy through and through and I should know better.

“Good to know,” he says with a cocky undertone that makes my eyes whip up to his. I half expect him to blow me off now that his ego’s been fed. But he licks his lower lip and my eyes are drawn to the motion, imagining how it’d feel to have his lips on every inch of my skin. “Come out with me tonight,” he tells me. As if I don’t have anything better to do. As if he can just command me to do what he wants.

“Sorry … Evan. I can’t tonight,” I tell him and turn back around, shifting my purse on my shoulder and ready to go about my business.

“Tomorrow night then,” he raises his voice so I can hear him as I wrap my hand around the handle and pull the door open. Again the chill of the store greets me, but this time it’s unwanted.

I’m very aware of what this man could do to me. He’s the type to pin you down as he takes you how he wants you and doesn’t stop until you’re screaming. And I can’t lie, just that thought alone makes me desperate to say yes.

He takes another step closer as I stand with the door wide open and hesitate to answer. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he manages a shrug as if it’s a casual question.

“Just one date,” he adds as he looks at me with a raised brow and his version of puppy dog eyes. It’s enough to force a smile on my face.

“And what am I supposed to do? Meet you here at ten?” I ask him.

“How about at Jean-Georges in Central Park?” he asks and I’m taken aback. It’s an expensive place and my eyes glance back to his car, to his ripped body and tattooed skin. There’s something about the air that follows him that screams he’s no good. The danger in the way he looks at me is so tempting though.

“I just want to feed you,” he adds as the time ticks slowly by and a short, older man with salt and pepper hair walks out of the exit, stealing our attention and making my hand slip slightly on the handle.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. The answer is an easy one. No. Simple as that. He’s a bad boy who only wants one thing, but I can’t deny that I want it too.

I said yes.

To the date, and then again a year later to marrying him.

That initial yes, pushed through my lips by an undeniable attraction, was my first mistake on a list of too fucking many.

All because I can’t tell him no.

Chapter Eight

EVAN

“I’m sorry.” I can say the words,

But I can’t take what’s happened back.

What’s more to do? What’s more to say?

There’s nothing left but attack after attack.

I don’t want to fight; I don’t want to run.

I only want you until my life is done.

Forgive me please, but don’t ask what for.

I don’t deserve you anymore.

I try to shut the front door softly, as quietly as I can so I don’t wake Kat up if she’s passed out. Our loft is small and the walls are thin so you can hear everything in here. I stop in the foyer, setting the duffle bag and my luggage down and look at the living room.

The room is mostly gray, just like the city. There’s a paned glass mirror above the long sofa and black and white accents everywhere. I hated that mirror from the moment we got it, but Kat loved it so I never said a word.

My eyes scan the room in the faint light from the city that’s shining through the gap in the curtains.

Five years of marriage, six of creating this place together.

Each piece of