Page 28 of Twisted Needs

“It’s stupid,” he says softly, eyes fixed on our hands. “I just…” He swallows hard. “Sometimes I want things that aren’t really mine, Park.”

Every warning bell in my body starts screaming. Because suddenly I understand exactly what this is. This isn’t one-sided. It never has been.

“And I don’t know what do to about it.”

I should pull away. Instead I tighten my pinky around his before I can stop myself.

Anders looks up immediately. His expression changes so fast it nearly knocks the air from my lungs.

Fuck.

“I like it when it’s just the two of us,” I admit quietly.

His cheeks flush pink almost instantly. “Do you?”

“I like spending time with you.”

The smile he tries to suppress almost kills me.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” I tell him softly. “Please don’t do that to me.”

Anders pauses for a minute before inching a little closer. “I just want you all to myself.”

I let out a shaky laugh.

The kettle starts rumbling softly behind us, but neither of us move. Anders steps closer instead. Close enough now that I can smell the scent of his soap.

“Pet’ka,” he murmurs.

I look down at him and realize with horrifying clarity that if he kissed me right now, I would let him.

My pulse pounds violently in my ears.

He reaches out and snakes his hand around my waist, but I move quicker than he does. I back him up against the counter, bending down and quickly setting him down on top. My hand finds its way through his hair, threading my fingers through his soft, damp curls.

Electricity surges through me, my body prickling with unbearable heat.

Anders lets out an unbelievably soft gasp as I lean in. Our noses brush and our mouths are so close that I can practically taste the toothpaste on his breath. He slides a hand down the front of my shirt before yanking the collar down and pressing his hot mouth to the nape of my neck. My jaw ticks as he latches on, his tongue burning like fire against my skin.

“We can go,” he whispers against me. “We can go right now…find somewhere and leave this house.”

The desperation in his voice kills me.

“Please,” he begs, holding the side of my face and pulling my head down to his. Our foreheads rest against each other. “Be my Parker. Not his.”

Fuck.

“Anders.” My voice shakes. I swipe my thumb right below his bottom lip. “I’m a grown man. I’m not sneaking around.”

Terrifying clarity crashes into me the moment the words leave me. I pull back a little and force myself to pretend the immediate hurt look on his face doesn’t kill me.

He laughs coldly. “Of course.”

“Anders—”

“Why not?” Anders asks. There isn’t any confusion in his voice, though. It’s anger, which somehow hurts in a way it hasn’t before. “What—you don’t want me?”

“That’s not—” I shake my head, but the look he gives me steals the words right out of my mouth.