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“Yes.”
I shake my head again, giving her a confused look.
“You don’t get it,” she says. “Because you’re not well.” She points to her head.
“I get it, Chloe. But I don’t think you get it.”
“You’re right; I don’t get it. I don’t understand any part of this obsession with me. At all.”
“Why do you think I’m mad at you, Chloe?”
While she moistens her lips and swallows, my eyes are glued to her mouth. Wanting to take it. Wanting to slam my cock into it. Wanting her to give me what I want, for fuck’s sake. Devotion. Loyalty. Unwavering love. I want what she gave him. He didn’t deserve it and I want it so fiercely it makes me want to drive over there and beat the living shit out of him for having something he didn’t deserve, something I want, something I’m working to earn.
“You’re mad because I left you wondering where I was all night. You’re mad because I made a threat. And you get to make threats against me, Derek, but clearly while you dish it out, you don’t like to take it. Do you?”
My eyes snap up to meet hers.
“I’m not mad at you, Chloe. And my threats are never empty. Was your threat empty?”
“It wasn’t going to be empty. Because I was very much wanting to strike back at you. But I didn’t follow through because I…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She swallows in a way that looks painful as she looks away.
“Because that’s not who you are,” I finish for her. “Don’t try to be anyone other than who you are.”
“Because I didn’t want you to murder someone. If you’re not angry with me, why are you staying in another room? Why do you seem like you’re angry?”
“I’m not mad at you,” I repeat. “I’m mad at me. I’m denying myself you because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“And you’re afraid you will?” She bristles, taking another step back.
I take another step forward. “No. I already did. I hurt you by trying to make you love me.”
“You can solve that by stopping with the threats. By letting me walk away and make my own choices about who to marry, who to be with.”
I shake my head. “If keeping you makes me bad, Chloe, oh well. Because nobody and nothing will take you from me. And I might have to keep making threats if I think you’ll do something that’ll destroy me. And now maybe you’re starting to understand that the threats aren’t empty. The threats will stop when I don’t feel the need to make them.”
Her face turns exasperated. Tears fill her eyes. And I hate it. Tears never affected me before. From anyone. Chloe’s tears started to do things to me not long after we met.
I move in, ready to reach for her and she backs up faster, shaking her head. “Don’t.”
I grab her anyway and pull her against me. Tight against me. Her big, blue eyes widen. My eyes rove her pretty mouth as I absorb how she feels. So soft. So right, so fucking right. I can’t believe I voluntarily went days without touching her. Hours without touching her is too much as it is.
“If keeping you makes me bad, I’ll be bad. But the problem is how much I hate myself right now. That’s why I’ve stayed down the hall. It hurts me that you’re hurting, and I don’t like the way it feels in here.” I thump my chest. “I fuckin’ hate the way this feels when I see how sad you are. I want to make you happy.”
“Then stop hurting me,” she whispers.
“I don’t think I can. And right now I know I’m about to hurt you some more.”
“How?” she asks, looking afraid.
“Not in a violent way. Never, baby. Nothing beyond what you can handle.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m about to fuck you. And it might get a little rough.”
“Derek, don’t.”
“I need to,” I inhale her hair. “I need to feel you. I need those sounds you make for me, Chloe.” I grab the back of her neck and put my nose to her throat. “I need that feeling that comes over me when you give in to how it feels, when you stop fighting me for a minute and hold onto me, writhing in what I make you feel. When you let yourself be mine.”
