“Tell me?” I try to urge her on. “I’d like to know why you like him so much. You have his coffee cup, so he must be pretty important to you.”
She looks around, anywhere but at me. I reach out and hold her jaw lightly, forcing her to look me in the eye. It’s back, the trepidation, the slow fading of those jade green eyes turning dull right before me.
“Is there a reason you won’t tell me?” She shakes her head slightly.
I can feel the jealousy pushing up to the surface. I remember the way Sebastian and she danced together tonight, the pain in both their eyes as he left her on the dance floor in tears. How she gave him her warmth and always speaks freely with him. She feels more for him and I hate it.
"Or is this just something you will only share with Sebastian?”
My voice comes out laced with malice, but I can’t stop the need to know if she feels more for my brother than she ever would for me. Even after fucking, she still holds herself at a distance, keeping herself shielded behind her silence. She can’t even give me two fucken hours of her time.
She tries to jerk her chin out of my hand, forcing me to tighten my grip. I lean up and kiss her, hard. Showing her I own her, she is mine now. Her response is cold, her lips tightly pressed together and she doesn't return my kiss. The fire she once hadfor me is gone.
“I guess it’s only for Sebastian then.” I drop her jaw quickly and she looks over my shoulder.
Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Poor baby, she’s going to cry.
Typical.
She watches me, her expression indignant, as she traces the lines on my forehead and lets out a sad sigh. She leans in and kisses my cheek tenderly and gets off my lap to walk toward the hall.
“Where are you going?” I demand as I stand up. How dare she just walk away?
She stops in the shadows of the hall but doesn’t turn. She says it so quietly I can hardly hear her.
“Ti ho dato ciò che sono disposto a dare, né più né meno. Sono state due ore bellissime, grazie per questo ricordo.” And she continues on to the bedroom.
What the fuck?She gave me what she is willing to give me, no more, no less. It was a lovely few hours. Thank you for this memory.
Memory? As in never fucking again? Fuck that!
“Isabella!” I bellow down the hall. I take a step toward the dark hallway but she doesn’t answer. I hear her door close and the lock click.
I run my hand through my hair and turn to walk back to the couch.
I look over at the clock on the wall.
Twelve fifteen, it's tomorrow.
Fuck!
Chapter 9 ~ Isabella
I close the bedroom door and lock it; I don’t want to fight with him anymore. If he has the energy to smash down this door and argue with me? Go ahead. I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted, as well as physically.
I turn off the lights and click on the lamp. As I reach to take the corner of the comforter to pull it back, there is a pink stain on the surface. I close my eyes and cringe inside. I chose him. I could have walked away, should have walked away, but I chose him, to feel this with him, if only once in my life.
I climb into bed and turn the lamp off. I’m so tired of it all, everything. He pulls me in a million different directions every time I’m near him. One minute he’s almost kind, showing me a vulnerability I would never have expected him to have, then he switches. His hand closes around my throat as his eyes turn silver, his soft mouth spitting venom in my face for reasons I can never understand.
I don’t know how long I’ll have to play his game. It could be months before I get a chance to escape. I feel cruel thinking in these terms. I gave him my virginity tonight, all the while still planning to leave him. It feels selfish and mean, and I am neither of those things.
He tried tonight. He really did. The song, the way he let me take control of our lovemaking, putting the decisions in my hands till I was ready. I curl up on my side and hug the pillow that still smells like him. Dang, it!
He was trying, and that’s more than I could have hoped for today. He even tried talking to me about Harry Potter, but I knew, I could see it on his face, that it didn’t matter how I truly felt about the subject. Alexander just wanted me to talk, and give more of myself for him to tear apart later when I disappointed him in some way.
Nonno always said, “People’s colors run true, Bella. Just give them time and it will shine through.” And he’s right.
Alexander only lasted less than a half hour after we made love before his touch turned cold and his hostility rose to the surface. As he clutched my jaw in his hand, demanding answers, I looked at the clock on the wall over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but laugh in my head. 12:06.
