This doesn’t feel like a slap now, it feels like a knife plunging into my chest.
“You should just take me home, Skull, if you’re involved.”
He makes a pained sound and scoops me off of my feet.
Skull carries me to the bed and settles against the headboard, cradling me in between his big thighs.
“I need to tell you some things.”
The way he sounds, I’m not sure I want to hear. “You don’t have to tell me anything. This was nice of you, but if you’re seeing a girl, then I don’t belong here.”
“I was a player,” he blurts, frowning.
“Like soccer?”
He groans and looks at the ceiling. “God, you’re fucking sweet. No, Angel. I’m talking about fucking women. A lot of them.”
My nose scrunches as I stare into his concerned gaze. “How many?”
“I lost count.”
Oh.
“Was that fun?” I hear myself ask.
“At the time it was. Now it feels like it was the stupidest fucking thing ever because it’s going to cause me to lose a chance at you falling in love with me.”
His palm cradles my face, warm and calloused, and his thumb brushes over my cheek. “And that’s what I want more than anything right now. I’ve already fallen in love with you, Sunshine.”
I stare because, wow. What am I supposed to say to that?
“You don’t have to say that to try to sleep with me.”
He goes rigid. “I would never say something like that to try to sleep with you. I’m not trying to sleep with you.”
A pinching sensation spreads behind my sternum. Confusion blooming like a painful bruise.
“That makes sense,” I say, unable to hide the sadness in my voice. “Why would you want to sleep with me when you could have someone that looks like a Sports Illustrated model? A questionably dressed one, but the body of one nonetheless.”
“Fuck, Katie. Don’t you know what you are?”
I stare at him as I shake my head. “Homely? Boring?”
He growls at me as his mouth crushes into my lips, breathing the word, “You look like mine.”
When I gasp, he strokes his tongue into my mouth.
Chapter Thirteen
This isn’t explaining myself. This is treading a very dangerous line. I could steal Katie’s cherry right now and she wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing.
But this is the long game.
At least for a few days. I have to make her love me by the time the weekend is over or I’ll lose my fucking mind.
She will not be hanging around the club as a single woman. NO. Fucking. Way.
I already saw those hungry motherfuckers checking out her legs and those sassy cowgirl boots.
