“Why? Would that bother you, Snitch? Is there a reason you can’t do it?”
Just fucking say it.
“How is this going to work?” she yelled. “Why keep me around? How are you going to keep me around?” Her eyes found mine. “Or is it like father, like son?”
“What about you, like mother, like daughter?”
She shoved me again. “I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to—”
“Disappear into nothing, hide away forever, hope no one ever saw you because if you don’t dream you can’t fail, if you don’t love your heart can’t break? You found me that night. You stole what didn’t belong to you. You started this. Finish it, Snitch.”
Her eyes found mine, locking. “You finish it.”
“Fine.”
I grabbed her by the waist, thrusting her against my chest, crashing my lips against hers.
Thirty-Eight
STORY
* * *
Bruising. Furious. Consuming.
His kiss was cruel, forcing my surrender. I shoved him off, but he just gripped my wrists and shoved me against the wall with more lips, more teeth, more tongue. I kissed him back even though I knew I shouldn’t. To punish him. To beg him. I wasn’t sure.
“I’m not going to stick around and watch you fuck her,” I said against his rose petal lips, biting the lower one, bruising it back. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care about damages. I don’t care.”
I felt his fingers at my bodice at the same time I heard the rip, then cool air on my flesh, knowing he’d torn the pretty silver dress. He palmed my breast, tugging at my nipple, tweaking the bruise he’d just given me. Sparks of pain ignited pleasure.
I threw my head back on a gasp.
“Sure about that, Snitch?” he growled against my neck. “That sounds an awful lot like caring.”
Awareness froze the marrow in my bones. Because I do care.
Too much.
I shoved him with both hands, and he stumbled back. Hair wild. Eyes ravenous.
“I can’t fucking do this anymore.” Tears welled and undulated, made my view blurry. “Don’t do this to me. Let me go!”
He slammed both hands on either side of my head. “This is all just a contract to you!” he yelled.
The raise in his voice shocked me.
I haven’t ever heard him yell. He’s always so nonchalant.
“Tell me why you can’t do this anymore,” he said. “I’ll let you go. If this is all just a fucking contract to you, but first tell me why it’s so damn hard?”
I couldn’t lie, but I couldn’t tell the truth, either, so tears fell down my face. Weak, cowardly tears. Tears I’d promised myself I would keep inside.
He thumbed them with the savage curiosity of a wolf finding an injured deer.
“What is it? What has you crying?”
“I don’t like seeing you with her, okay?”