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“Not now.” He spits out in a daring warning. He means it with every fire in his being, but I can’t take no. Not after witnessing the yell that just came out of his mouth and all the pained glares he’s given me since we met.
I want to be here for him the same way he’s there for me without realizing it. Slowly, day by day, he brought me out of the darkness and toward the tunnel of light.
I wrap my arms around his muscular body. His tall frame prevents the water from wetting my hair.
“I’m here,” I whisper, planting a kiss on his back. I wonder where his tattoo is. I’m positive I’ve had the privilege of eying every inch of him and still, I’ve yet to find it.
He turns to face me, and a danger lurks in his eyes, screaming at me to stay the hell away from him, but his actions contradict all his words. Everything he’s done so far has shown me that he’s not as bad as he likes to believe.
Always look at a man’s actions—not his words.
I repeat his mantra in my mind until I start to believe it.
“Get out.”
I step back and take in the harshness of his words. The rejection tastes bitter, so bitter and so familiar I can’t help but think I’m doomed to be rejected by men for the rest of my life.
Don’t accept this, Gemma. You don’t need another man treating you like you’re the dirty rust of a beat-up car.
I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm. The heat his touch projects into my body shouldn’t be legal. It’s living on the brink of danger, between two lines, not knowing what’s more right than wrong.
And I live for this. I live for this buzz, for standing on the edge, not knowing if I’ll slip and fall.
“Wait.” He pulls me to him, his hands snaking around my neck. It’s wet, the warm water adding to his touch that ignites my body.
“Gemma... look at me.” He tilts my chin up with his thumb. “I can’t give you more... I...Look at me. I can’t do this. Go back to him, Gemma... I’mnotwho you think I am.”
For the first time since I was a young child, I want to cry. He probably wouldn’t even notice anyway; we’re in the shower.
This feels like goodbye.
Thisisgoodbye. And it hurts so much I can’t fathom tomorrow and the day after.
I can’t imagine waking up and having to forget about Damon or to push him out of my heart.
I hoist up to my toes, hoping to change his mind. “I thought you just wanted my body.”
“I did—I do. But you deserve more.”
I know that I do, and I want it. The more. I want the more so badly.
“One day at a time, Damon.” I hear the desperation in my voice. I clear my throat to remove the bile of sadness and grief that formed from listening to him push me away again.
Him warning me.
I end my misery by grabbing on roughly to his neck and kissing him so he doesn’t have the chance to doubt us any longer.
He grabs my legs, and they snake around him like they were born to do so. Then we stagger back against the tile wall, my body warm from the steam of the water, my mouth heated by his able tongue.
He rushes inside my pussy. And he’s hard, so, so hard.
I’m sore to the point of pain because he’s the hardest I’ve ever felt a man within my walls but I take it. I love every minute of it as my whimpers of pain turn into cries of pleasure.
“I don’t want to stop fucking you,” he says urgently.
“Then don’t.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. . .” Oh, he thrusts good, and hard, and deep. He knows what he’s doing. “I’ll break you... and yourstupidnaïve heart. You’ll regret not listening to me, Gemma. I’m no good for you.”
