Page 2 of Hard to Love

Two Green Fairies later, I’m feeling nothing but the beat of the music as I grind up against the hot-assed guy behind me, while Rihanna’s S & M provides the rhythm for my moves. Well, that and the alcohol.

Christy soon joins me in my slow, visual seduction of the muscle-bound gladiator that’s all eyes and hands on me. I get lost in the music as our bodies meld together, moving as one to the beat.

His massive arms surround my waist as I stroke the tattoos running down his biceps to his forearms. His tanned arms are covered with black ink in a bold tribal design. His clean, woodsy scent helping send chills up my spine as his warm breath cools the sweat-soaked hair falling around my neck.

Turning in his strong arms, I look into the dark depths of his brown eyes, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his dark, unruly hair. His lips part just before they take mine, hard and fast. The music fills my ears as his tongue fills my mouth. There’s no fight in me to stop either. To push aside every thought of him.

Kissing me. Taking me. Marking me as his. I allow this feeling to sweep me away, getting lost in his arms and in his touch. No longer burning from want but longing to be burnt. To rid my memory of the one man who has been no further from my mind than the taste of him on my tongue.

But trying to forget him is impossible. With every touch, I replay it as if they’re his hands, his lips. As if it’s him. His touch made my skin burn and my soul catch fire. Desire ignited in every pore in my body, begging to have his body on mine. Every morning longing for him to be beside me, inside me.

The moment his eyes locked on mine, I was his captive. Meeting him was by chance, never having him isn’t an option.

It’s been six weeks since he took my life by storm, and by God, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have him in my life and my bed forever. I will not take no for an answer, no matter the cost.

He continues to deny me, refusing my calls and reading my text but never answers. He can’t deny me for much longer. He wants me as much as I need him; I know it. The pull I feel in my soul tells me we’re meant to be together.

A tingle runs up my back, and immediately I begin to scan the room. Flashing lights and bodies hamper my efforts. Until our eyes lock. The want in his eyes mirrors mine.

Every time I grind my ass into the crotch of the gladiator I’m currently humping a leg on, his nostrils flare. He stands over in the corner, staring. Fuck that.

Turning my back on the mammoth of a man I’m dancing with, I touch my toes as I allow him to ride my ass as if he’s fucking me. By God, if he doesn’t make a move now, I’m done.

Fuck his ‘man-made. He needs to dial back the bullshit and man the fuck up because I’m getting tired of his games.

Why in the hell come watch me if you can’t speak? Or even answer a fucking text? I’m mad as hell and do the unthinkable. Marching straight from the dance floor, I walk over to the darkened corner where he stands. Facing him, I stare him down, waiting. Hoping. Imploring him to take me. Here. Now. Something.

Nothing. He just stares at me. Through me. Looking into the depths of my soul as I stand there, baring it to him. Silently begging him to take me.

He doesn’t.

As a matter of fact, he doesn’t even move. He stands there, staring at me. Tears fill my eyes as his rejection fills my soul. I’m burning for a man who refuses to talk to me. Want me. Make love to me.

Why am I still standing here? Backing away, I shake my head ever so slightly. He sees it before I do. I know he does, and I don’t care. I’m about to make a huge mistake.

His back comes off the wall where he stands. Tilting his head as if to assess if I’m about to do something stupid. We both know I am, but I can’t stop myself.

Spinning on my heels, I tilt but right myself. The alcohol making my head spin. My emotions making my decisions. I walk a straight-ish line to my gladiator and wrap myself around him.

His hands find my ass as I climb him in the middle of the dance floor. Seizing his mouth as I go. I let his mouth assault mine. All the while, wishing they were his lips.

My dancing gladiator carries me away, where to, I don’t give a fuck. All I know is, my soul, burns for a man I can’t have, and I’ll be damned if I ask again.

Chapter Two

Hardy

What the fuck does she think she’s doing? Christy better makes fucking sure she watches her. Mother fucking, steroid-bound asshole, best get his hands off her.

She’s pushing my fucking buttons, and she knows it. Drinking like an alcoholic and showing her ass like she is. She wants to see me get locked up, no mother fucking doubt.

Bending over in front of him while he rides her ass like he’s fucking her. Goddamn it. That’s bullshit right there. I can feel my face flame; I’m so pissed.

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep myself from ripping this dude apart. Why would she even act like this? She knows our deal.

Anger wells up inside me until all I can do is shake my head at her ridiculous behavior. Seriously, what the hell is she thinking? I’ve stood here long enough; I’m sick of her dry-humping this asshole.

Why must she be so persistent? I told her we couldn’t do this. There’s too much at stake. Too many factors involved for it to ever work. Losing her number and blocking her would’ve been in my best interest. There’s just something about her; I can’t walk away.