I barely reach the elevator before he catches me. Fruitlessly pounding my fists against the freezing metal that refuses to slide apart. Occupied with transporting Tucker back to freedom on the ground floor. Why does he get to escape and I don’t?
Gio’s strong arms circle around my waist, tucking me against his broad chest so tight his heart pounds as crazy as mine. It feels so nice. I'm tired and lonely and miserable. I just want to give in. I just want him to hold me and pretend everything’s okay. Make my heart stop aching so much. I don’t want to hurt any more tonight.
But I can’t. I won’t. He refuses to grow up, and I refuse to let him destroy me again. So I fight. Hard and furious. Twisting and kicking with all my might. Throwing back my head to scream.
“Damn it Chryseis.”
A huge hand covers my mouth, and I’m lifted from the matted carpet. Scratchy and rough threads disappear from under my bare feet. My legs dangling as he carries me back into my apartment and kicks the door shut behind us. Damn him!
I’m only able to grasp a sliver of skin between my teeth, but it’s enough to make him yelp when I clamp down with all the strength I can muster. Sharp bitterness warming my tongue when I break through his calloused palm.
His grip loosens, but he doesn't release me. Instead, I tumble down toward the smooth hardwood, still trapped in his embrace. His erection bulges against my back. Incredible. I can't believe our argument turns him on. Although I can't deny the wetness in my panties from his scent. His proximity. His possessiveness.
“Fuck that hurt!”
Heat flares through me from his hiss in my ear. Too many memories flooding my tipsy brain of him taking me from behind. Lips on my shoulder. Tongue on my throat. Talented hands seeming to be everywhere at once pleasuring me so easily that I'd come on his fingers before he was even inside me.
No! I won't let myself fall for him just from his touch. From the need he ignites with his urgent desire so obvious for me too.
“Good! I wanted it to!”
"I know you like it rough Books, but I didn't know you were into biting."
His arrogant chuckle pisses me off. None of this is funny. Or cute. Or right. "Oh, so I let you lick my pussy a few times and now you think you know me?"
He stiffens behind me. Almost as shocked as I am that I actually said that word. That I spoke in such a crass manner. I'm not that kind of woman. Rarely cursing and never using vulgarity. But he needs to understand how serious I am about battling him.
Because as selfish and immature and wrong as the desire may be, I want to hurt him. I need to hurt him. Punish him for no other reason than at this moment I hate myself more than I hate him. Despise my desperate body betraying me. Flaming from his effort to convince me this is anything but sex.
"Son of a bitch."
Not shock. Rage. Insistent fingertips dig into my arm. Painful and sharp. As pointed as the fury I feel for him. Which I welcome. Reminding me of how much I loathe him before I let him have me again.
“I didn’t fuck those girls.”
Now I'm the one who's surprised. I know exactly who he means. The women with their hands all over each other and their bodies all over his desk. Tempting him with the depravity I never could provide.
So what? He doesn't get off that easy. I didn't believe him then, and I don't believe him now. Maybe he's telling the truth about sleeping with them, but he's lying about something. Hiding the reasons for his actions. I deserve to know why he treated me like I meant nothing to him. When he knew he was my everything.
“Well I never slept with Leighton. But I was going to. Tonight.”
"No!"
Crazy with revenge and power and tequila, I’m spurred on by his seething denial. All I recognize is his jealousy. All I understand is he wants me as much as I want him. But this is going to be on my terms. I call the shots tonight. Blatant as a neon sign, my hand glides to the hem of my dress, and I jerk up the fabric to reveal the black thong underneath. Reveling in his heavy, hungry breaths. “That’s why I’m wearing this sexy new lingerie so he'd know how much I wanted him. How badly I wanted him inside me.”
“Quiet!”
Angry sex. Because angry sex I can tolerate. Angry sex I can survive. We’re just using each other. Hollow, meaningless comfort for one night. If I allow myself to think it’s anything more than that – that we’re more than that – I’ll never recover. “All night. I was going to let him make love to me. Over and over until the only thing I knew was him. That no other man ever existed.”
"Shut up!" Outrage roars through him. An actual growl vibrating in his mouth. His gravelly voice hardened into a low, dangerous tone I’ve never heard before. Making me wetter than I’ve ever been. “Damn it Chryseis. I’m going to fuck him out of your head and your fucking mouth.”
He shoves me forward, slamming me against the back of the sofa. Shaking fingers thread my hair and push my head down while he rips off my panties. Goosebumps raise on my bare thighs from the cool air before his scorching body sheathes mine. His hardness grinding into me before he yanks down his zipper and impales me. I cry out from pain. Relief. Shame. Love. Doubt. Every emotion he stirs in me I can’t control.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I'm a god damn fucking bastard.
She's drunk. Angry. Heartbroken. Scared. And I fuck her anyway.
Because I have to. I can't control myself with her anymore. Not that I had much restraint before. But now my will power is fucking obliterated with her acting like some other asshole could ever mean as much to her as she does to me.
I force myself to pause. To quit thrusting into her like a fucking mad man. Try to get my shit together and think with the head on top of my fucking neck rather than the one buried so perfectly inside her glorious heaven. But she’s not having it. Refusing to let me stop. Short fingernails pinch my thigh. Urging me to drive harder into her dripping pussy. Pulsing walls sucking me in deeper as I groan against her silky shoulder. Swaying ass grinding against my stomach to keep us from separating.
Like that will ever fucking happen again.
All I can think is mine. Home. Complete.
An intense mewl purrs in her throat. Velvet skin vibrating under my fingertips. Strands of her thick hair brush against my cheek, engulfing me with her unmistakable essence of sweet honeysuckle and soft flowers. Unable to control myself, I grasp her narrow hips tighter and slam into her again and again. Thriving on her moans of pleasure. Relishing her intensity as her knuckles strain white from clutching the couch cushion so tightly. Forcing myself not to bite the tiny pulse throbbing under my tongue.
If she’s giving herself to me, then I must do the same. I shove my mouth against her ear and tighten my grip around her slender neck to get more than just her body into this. I need her heart here too. Even more than her greedy pussy.
We may be fucking like animals but she’s going to damn sure know how I genuinely feel about her. Because fuck me if I’m going to let her wake up tomorrow regretting my cock being inside her again. “I love you Chryseis. You don’t have to doubt me anymore. I’m not going anywhere.”
Long hair whips across my face with a furious shake of her head. Her petite body stiffening with indignation. The only woman I know who refuses heartfelt declarations whispered in the darkness. That she mistakenly thinks are bullshit.
“This doesn’t mean anything. I know I don’t mean anything to you.”
Fuck that. I will make her believe. In my assertions. In me. In us.
I pull out, already missing her sweetness surrounding my enraged cock. Her gaze flies backward, demanding an explanation. That’s an answer she’s most definitely going to hear, feel, and understand.
I’m manhandling her, but I don’t give a damn. I flip her around and lift her up before driving her down again on my much happier dick. “You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go again.”
Delicate fingers clench my shoulders in response to me holding her in place, captured between me and the sofa back. Guiding her up and down my cock. Hard and fast just the way she likes. But she’s still infuriated. Simultaneously fighting me and fucking me at the same time. Her head and heart battling with her pussy.
And her fury’s fucking breathtaking. Watching her get off while I punish her. She finally gives in and comes hard. Saturating me down to my balls and thighs from the release she so desperately needed while I explode inside her as she flies. Her gorgeous body pulsing with my come shooting deep inside her like the gushing won’t ever stop. Fuck me if my legs don’t almost buckle from the intensity.
But I’m not done. Far from it.
I fist her hair and put her lips on mine, finally devouring the drug I’ve been failing miserably to wean myself from. Ready for round two. Ready to go all night.
Until I taste her salty release on my burning tongue as she weeps into my mouth. Spent, she clings to me. Awkwardly tendriling around my torso, bulky with my drenched shirt and her ruined dress stuffed between us. Sobs wracking her fragile body.
God damn son of a bitch. I should never have taken her like this. I curl my hand around the gentle curve of her head, holding her tighter than I ever have. “Shhhh, don’t cry.”
“I’m so stupid.”
I barely make out the muffled words, whispered against my slick skin. But the message in her tone can’t be any more clear – fucking regret. God damn it.
“I’ve been trying so hard to be strong, but you make me weak.”
Now I’m pissed. For her to berate herself over giving herself to me. “You’re not weak. You’re honest. You want me, just like I want you.” Damp cheeks streak across the stubble on my jaw line from her rebuttal. “I fucked up. But somehow I’m going to figure out how to fix this.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late now. This is just sex. Nothing else.”
Like hell it is. My grip intensifies. Merciless in my force to keep her immobile and at attention. “It’s fucking everything, and I’ll be damned if you’re going to think otherwise.”
Small hands shove against my chest. Legs unwind from my waist. Trying to let me go physically. Because I know, as sure as hell as I’m standing here, emotionally she’s already gone. But I’m going to do everything in my fucking power to bring her back.
I allow her to slide down, cupping her wet face once her feet touch the floor. Fucking killing me that her eyes stay rooted to the ground too. “Please Books. Stop fighting me. Just for tonight.”
I’ve never fucking begged anyone for anything in my entire life. I’ve always just taken what I wanted. Laws or morals or feelings be damned. But this time my domination won’t work. Not with her. Not for this. I’ve got to earn back what I want. And, I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want her.
Only the droop of her defeated shoulders provides me with an answer. Not much, but I’ll fucking take silence as approval. Reigning in my need as well as my impatience for her to forgive me and come back to us, I kiss her forehead. Chaste and calm. Not doing a damn thing that could spook her.
Entwining her thin fingers with mine, I guide her through the apartment. Not arguing with me as I lead her. Only hesitating when we step into the bedroom. But I keep walking. I’m not fucking her again tonight. Not yet anyway.
A shiver races through her when we reach the icy ceramic. Fearful she might change her mind and make another run for the door if I release her, I squeeze her hand while I bend to turn on the faucet and plug the drain. The claw foot tub her second favorite feature that made her rent in this pre-war building.
Satin skin trembles under my touch when I stroke across her bare back and tug her zipper, grazing over her luscious hips as I glide down the silky fabric along with the cotton strings of her thong. Forcing myself to fucking check my anger from her wearing those panties for that bastard. And restrain my greedy cock from her standing naked and exposed with the shiny material pooled at her feet.
I squat down, gently caressing her toned calf, and gingerly lift one foot at a time, with her fingers wrapped over my shoulders for balance. Reminding me she’s still tipsy, and I’m still an asshole.
Free of her clothes, she takes a small step back. Waiting for me to attack her. Or yank off my own trashed shirt and pants. But I do neither. This is for her. All her. Only her.
Surprise flickers in her gorgeous blue eyes when she finally meets mine. Watching as I roll up the sleeves of my previously crisp dress shirt to my elbows. Wondering about my ulterior motives. Questioning if she can trust me. Speculating if this is just another act.
I’ve got so fucking much to make up to her. “Get in.”
Her gaze never breaks as she accepts my outstretched hand and climbs into the steamy water. A throaty moan escapes her lips, jolting my already taut balls while she sinks down. Little waves lapping against her perfect rosy nipples as she leans back onto the towel I tuck against the porcelain.
Sure I’ve fucked in the shower before but I’ve never given anyone a bath. Never really taken care of someone. Including the one woman I genuinely love. I drop to my knees behind her. With as much gentleness as I can muster, I fill my cupped hands and let the warm liquid trickle over her head. Another deep groan echoes in the tiled room stirring up my ravenous cock.
A slight smile illuminates her face even with closed eyes while I tip her forward and massage shampoo into her hair. Filling the humid air with her intoxicating scent. The last fragrance I ever hope to smell before death claims me.
The grin brightens even more while I rub her little white mesh ball, lathered with yellow body wash, over her arms, across her perky tits, and gently around her belly button ring. All the while focused on my work rather than my traitorous cock straining against my boxer briefs.
I motion for her to stand, and she lifts in all her stunning glory. Tiny biceps flexing as she pushes herself up, so dangerously close to my throbbing body. Wet. Defenseless. Beautiful.
After sweeping down her legs, I glide between her thighs. Her delicate hand covers mine. Not sure if she’s protecting herself or helping me. Too scared of the answer, I don’t ask. Instead, we caress her smooth pussy lips together and then between her ass cheeks. Making her actually giggle that I help clean her most intimate area too. But if I’m doing this, I’m doing it right. Even stooping down to wash her dainty little feet.
Despite my precautions, I end up soaked when I softly spray her down with the nozzle. Rinsing away the soap and dirt. Hopefully her uncertainty about me follows down the drain.
Now it’s her turn to shock the hell out of me when she tucks against me after I wrap a heavy towel around her. The only version of a hug she can manage with her arms trapped inside the lavender terry cloth.
“That was nice. Thank you.”
Nice.
I need to be so much more than fucking nice. I’ve got to be fucking perfect. “You’re welcome.”
“I’d like to brush my teeth.” She lifts from my chest and nods toward the vanity. A much more relaxed expression gracing her face. “But you can take a shower too…if you want.”
Insecurity returns with a frown, and she suddenly jerks away, stepping over the thick side. Brushing past me and racing to the closet without looking back. But she doesn’t have to doubt my commitment. I’m here for the long haul. Well, that is until I move her into my place. Although that’s a discussion for tomorrow.
After ripping off my trashed clothes, I stride to the counter and yank open the drawer where I used to keep my shit. My heart swells like a fucking pussy ass bitch. Everything’s still there. All this time she never threw away my razor, toothbrush, or soap. I can’t help but smirk. Even better, she never moved in that bastard’s shit. I knew she couldn’t really love him.
Probably the fastest fucking shower I’ve ever taken. Savoring the buzzing from her spin brush on the other side of the curtain while I lather myself. Just like old times. Harmony and peace between us after I fucked her and we’d fall into bed exhausted but sated. Only to do it all again the next morning.
By the time I finish, she’s gone. The bathroom as empty as my unsettled gut. I can’t fool myself into thinking we’re back yet. A few hours can’t fix months of torture. I race through drying off and brushing my own teeth and head into the bedroom. But almost stumble over my own fucking feet when I see the unexpected paradise waiting for me.
She’s curled on her side with the comforter turned down beside her. Almost as if inviting me to join her on the mattress.
“Make love to me Giovanni.”
Jesus. I can’t say no. Not with her hand reaching for me. Not with her beautiful body glimmering with golden shadows from the soft light glowing behind the thin drapes. Not with the hope blossoming in her tone.
Somehow I make it to the bed without falling and nestle between her legs. Opening for me with my first step. Welcoming me back to the only heaven I know. Forgoing any needless discussion just to be inside her.
I plank over her, dipping my head to brush my mouth against hers. Soft pecks that hide how much I want to ravish her. Tender touches to prove I can be the gentleman she deserves. “I love you.”
She shakes her head, but before I can argue her lips part for me. Her soft minty tongue sweeping into my mouth. Pouring all of her emotion into her kiss. Lifting her hips. Urging me to fuck her.
God do I want to fuck her. Yet, I touch her first, reaching down between our coupled bodies. Seeking confirmation of her readiness for me. Fuck me she’s so fucking wet already. I can’t hold back and push inside with one long slow drive. “I’ve missed–“
Sharp teeth nip at my bottom lip. Shutting me up. Halting my sincere expression. She doesn’t want me to speak? Fine. I’ll prove myself to her with my actions if not my words. My hand slides under her left thigh, lifting her leg to have her angled as close as possible, and plunge into her. Twisting side to side, putting my full weight on her clit the way she loves.
A smug jackass smile covers my face from her breathless gasp. She rotates with me. Getting the friction she needs. Getting off on the pressure. Getting there quick because of me. Because I fucking know what she likes. I fucking know what she needs. Not that son of a bitch.
“Gio.”
Fucking glorious to hear her cry my name while she convulses. Wracking her petite body with an enormous orgasm. I nuzzle her neck, sucking in the delicate skin, because the next one is going to be just as huge. “Hook up, angel.”
The sick bastard in me loves the flicker of fear in her wide eyes when they pop open. She knows exactly what’s going to happen with my growl in her ear. She’s going to get all the fucking proof she fucking needs. Obeying my command, her legs wrap around my hips while her arms coil around my torso. Bringing out the animal in me from her absolute submission. Rewarding her with what she wants for her deference.
I don't hold back.
I fuck her hard.
Caging her head between my forearm and chest while I palm her ass cheeks with my huge hand. Thrusting again and again, I'm half on my knees and deep in her pussy while she clings to me. Grasping my drenched body with all her strength. Slippery from the exertion of working to make her explode underneath me. Saturating us with the addictive scent of her arousal mingling with my own salty release.
Unable to touch her stunning face, I kiss the top of her head. Silky, damp hair tickles my lips. The flowery essence so wholesome and innocent. A reminder of how easily and often I fuck things up between us. Sex doesn't equal love. I fucking know this, but I must reach her. Own her. Consume her. Pounding into her over and over until her heaving breaths burst into a cry of pleasure, pushing me beyond the edge with her. My balls tighten up into my body, and I let loose. Erupting with every ounce of come my cock holds barring down in her. “God fucking damn.”
Incapable of withstanding the force, she untangles from me and drops back to the soaked sheets. I follow, wrapping my arm around the back of her neck and pinning her immobile against me while I collapse onto my hip. Probably scaring the fuck out of her from the side of my fist wedged against her temple. From the ferocity of my hold. The veracity of my tone. But I don't give a damn. “Don’t – for even one fucking second – ever think I don’t love you.”
Her forehead rubs up and down against my slick skin. Finally fucking agreement. Thank fucking god.
We pant in silence. Floating down together from the high. My cock still at half-mast inside her. Even he's unwilling to let her go. A sliver of hope cracks the anxiety in my bitch ass heart when she stays tucked in my embrace once my grip relaxes. She shivers, our moist bodies cooling quickly in the cold air, and I stretch to grasp the edge of the bedspread. Refusing to separate from her even to snatch a blanket.
She snuggles in when I tuck the covers over her shoulders. A deep sigh against my neck. At least she doesn’t hate me enough not to let me cuddle with her. Fucking sad the only progress I've made so far is her not being repulsed by my touch.
A better man would get up. Grab another shower. Take care of her, and clean her depleted body too. But I'm a bastard. Writhing in fucking fear that only she can generate in me. If I climb out of bed, we'll talk. Then probably argue. Then she'll try to kick my ass out. Which I refuse to allow but I don't want our discussion to escalate to that level. Instead, I stroke over her head one last time before I welcome sleep to claim us. "Sweet dreams, Books."
“I was pregnant.”
Was.
Pregnant.
What in the god damn fucking hell?
All of my sated exhaustion instantly vanishes. Replaced by an explosion of enraged shock I've never experienced before. I fly off the mattress and jerk her up with me. Clenching her upper arms harder than I should for the woman who just admitted she carried my child. And now no longer does. I need to know what the fuck is going on. Right this god damn minute.
If she's afraid she doesn't show any fear. Keeps her head drooped forward, only sitting up because of my unforgiving grip. I give her a shake and try to keep my voice level. Or I will fucking go off. "What the hell are you talking about?"
“I was late. I was going to tell you that night, but you..."
Motherfucker. I am going to fucking lose what little sanity I have left if she did something crazy because of her pain. Because of me.
"I took a test the next day. The lines were barely there, but definitely positive." Her shoulders lift, and she blows out a stuttered breath. Trying not to cry. “A few days later I started bleeding. The doctor said my hCG levels were too low. That’s why the lines were so light. He said it just wasn't meant to be, but it still hurt.”
Hurt doesn't even begin to touch what I'm feeling. No wonder she fucking hates me with such a vengeance. A fucking jackass, I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. All I wanted to do was protect her. And I ended up destroying her. And our child.
“I just thought you should know.”
An ache I can't tolerate floods my body. The loss of the woman I love was fucking unbearable. But now, to be unaware of losing someone I didn't even know about but instantly love, almost fucking drives me to the point of insanity. I'm not good at this. Not good at emotions. Not good at accepting what I cannot fucking control. The ache flares to anger. "You were pregnant with my baby, miscarried, and didn't tell me until now? And you 'just thought I should know'?"
My stupid, selfish accusations push her too far. Finally making her head whip up. A fury I've never seen before burns in her eyes, blazing across her cheeks. "No! You don't get to ask me that. You don't get to judge my decisions after what you did. You made your choice. I'm not going to–"
The words muffle when I yank her against my chest. I clutch her trembling body, leaning us back against the headboard. Jabbing my skin with the teal metal rods while her quiet whimpers dampen my skin. Nothing compared to the self-hatred pounding in my own heart. I'm a fucking dumb ass. "You're right. This is all me. All my fault."
Long hair rustles under my chin. “No. It would have happened either way. Just dumb luck.”
Surprisingly, no bitterness or blame sounds in her whisper. Only a dejection that I fucking hate. Six months to absorb the loss and accept the disappointment, if that’s even possible. While I’m raw and ravaged from the fresh news of more shit I fucked up. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.” Her body finally softens, falling limp in my arms. Battered by the overwhelming emotions spinning through her from our confrontation. A cyclone of sex, tears, and alcohol winning the fight between us. A huge yawn blows on my throat. “But, I still want you gone by morning.”
Before I can protest her demand, she’s out. Damn, that’s fucking harsh. And, of course, more than deserved. I’ve done nothing tonight to erase any of the damage I caused. To prove I love her. To earn back her trust.
Shit, I need to kick my own ass for missing the clues that night. Her request to relax just the two of us rather than dance. Ginger ale instead of her usual champagne. The plea to talk so she could tell me something important.
Too agitated to sleep, I hold her all night. Watching her since it’s been too damn long since I’ve seen her gorgeous face. Plotting my new plan to put a genuine smile back on those soft, pink lips. Although I’ve completely jacked up this unexpected reunion, tomorrow and each day after that I will expend every ounce of energy into winning her back. No matter how long it takes or what I have to do or how much she resists, Chryseis is mine again.