I don’t want to like him, and I don’t want to feel anything for him, but my body isn’t giving me a choice.
This chemistry between us doesn’t make any damn sense. It’s completely illogical and utterly insane. I’m terrified of this man yet something is drawing me to him against my better judgment.
I wish I could just turn it off, and as he carries me into his room and lowers me to his bed, I try to do just that.
I will all my parts to feel numb. I will myself to feel nothing for him.
His hands pull away and he straightens. Looming over me in the darkness.
I shiver at the loss of his heat. At the loss of him.
Already, I’m losing this battle I’m fighting.
In the moonlight, I can see his dark eyes gleaming down at me. The way he looks at me, like he wants me, like he owns me, is fucking terrifying.
Immediately, I scoot away. I need some distance between us.
“I want to leave,” I say, finding my voice, but even to me I sound unsure and weak. He makes me so fucking weak and a part of me hates him for that.
He shakes his head.
“I want to sleep with Abigail tonight.”
“No,” he says as if that’s the end of it.
“But—”
“Your place is with me, in this bed.”
He’s crazy. How do I even argue with him?
Pressing up against the headboard of his bed, I watch him with a mixture of fear and fascination as he begins to undress.
He loosens the tie around his neck, slides it out of his collar and drops it to the floor. Slowly, as if he’s in no rush, he unbuttons his shirt. His eyes never leaving me as his nimble fingers work their way down.
I have to put a stop to this. I have to find a way to make him understand… before he undoes his pants.
“Please,” I beg quietly, hating myself a little for it. “Please don’t do this.”
Reaching the bottom button of his shirt, his fingers pause. “Do what?”
I have to look away. I have to take a deep breath before I answer him. “What you’re doing to me. It isn’t right.”
He’s so still, for a moment I’m hopeful that I’ve gotten through to him. But then I look back, noticing movement.
He pushes his shirt off of his shoulders. “What am I doing to you, Amy?”
I do my best to keep my eyes locked on his face. I won’t look down. I refuse to admire all the rippling muscles he was hiding under that crisp, white fabric.
I stare so long, so hard into his face, I forget to answer him.
“What am I doing to you?” he repeats, demanding an answer.
“You’re confusing me,” I answer him honestly.
He grins, seemingly pleased by my admission.
“I appreciate your protection,” I further explain. “I really do. But you can’t keep me… us…”
“I can’t?” he challenges, the grin fading. He looks angry again.
My throat tightens up from the look on his face, and I shake my head.
His voice is as sharp as a bite as he asks, “Who’s going to stop me?”
I struggle to answer at first. The law? No, I’m not that naïve or foolish. My family? All I have is my aunt and I don’t want to get her mixed up in this. She’s elderly and would probably just expect the authorities to handle it. Abigail’s father? He’s never given a shit.
“Who’s going to stop me, Amy?” he repeats, demanding an answer.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been alone. It’s all been on me. Paying all the bills. Being both mother and father for Abigail. I’ve always shouldered all the burdens and this time is no different. I have no one but myself.
Lifting my chin, I say, “I will.”
Of course he finds my answer amusing. Hands hovering over his belt, he tips his head back and laughs.
Filling with righteous indignation, I stiffen against the headboard.
“I will,” I repeat angrily.
Anger is good. Anger drowns out the fear. I stoke the fire. I embrace it. “You can’t keep us.”
“I can,” he counters and quickly unbuckles his pants.
I lean my head back and squeeze my eyes shut as his pants start sliding towards the floor. Under normal circumstances, me being dressed and him being pantless would put me at an advantage… but not in this case.
The bed dips and I panic. He’s going to touch me and I just know I’m going to like it. Once again my body will betray me, making me want things I shouldn’t want.
“Why do you want someone who doesn’t want you?” I lash out at him, hoping to push him away. “Can’t you get a woman without resorting to this?”
I don’t have to open my eyes to be chilled by his reaction. I can feel it. I can sense it. I can fucking taste it. But I’ve come too far now to go back.