Page 142 of Love Unspoken

I let him in.

"Like you were," he teased as he removed his suit jacket and threw it on my couch, "when you texted me."

"So, this is tit for tat?" I put my hands on my waist because I wanted very much to touch him, feel him, be with him.

It was easier to resist him when I was angry with him, but, lately, he'd been muddling the waters with his declaration of love; by sending me flowers and telling me how Kath and he were not together.

"I'd text, Tesoro, but you still haven't unblocked me on your phone."

He walked up to me and took my hands in his. He brought them to his mouth and kissed my knuckles.

"You're upset," I remarked.

I loved this man, and I desperately wanted to comfort him. He was sad, and all I wanted was to make him happy. Would this feeling ever go away—the need to see the one you love cared for and well?

"Yeah." He placed my hands on his chest. "I fucked up so much with you."

His heart was beating fast, and my fingers curled into his white dress shirt. For months and months, I'd seen him get dressed in the morning, saw him button his shirt, put on his tie, drink his coffee, and kiss me before he left for work. The everyday life of a couple had been intoxicating for me; it spoke volumes about our intimacy, our closeness, our harmony.

But he'd found it and me boring and comfortable.

I licked my lips and saw his mouth hone in on them. "You have the sexiest mouth," he whispered.

"Lucas, I'm not your old shoe."

He frowned, confused. "You've got to explain that, Tesoro."

I let out a deep breath. "You told your mother that with Kath, your feelings were all-consuming, and with me, you were…comfortable. I had thought then, like an old shoe. I'm not an old shoe."

I felt stupid explaining myself, but hadn't we gotten into trouble because we had not been telling each other how we felt?

He stroked my cheek with a finger. "Yes, I was comfortable because what we had was healthy for the most part. It was warm and loving. Full of affection and care. I didn't realize that what we had was love of the deepest kind—because we were at ease with each other, because we could be our true selves with one other."

"And Kath?" The words trembled out of me as my eyes filled with tears.

"The past. A childish love that never grew out of its teenage years. A stunted relationship, the resurrection of which had just one allure…," he paused to lick a tear that rolled down my cheek, "The satiation of my ego. Kath was on her knees begging me to take her back and twenty-five-year-old Lucas felt good about that; felt validated."

When I used my right brain, I understood what he was saying, but my heart hated each word. But he was finally telling me his truth. If I ever wanted to be in a relationship with him again, we had to learn to speak to one another.

What the fuck?

Amara, wake up. This man hurt you. He'll hurt you again and again. I wasn't going to ever be in a relationship with him again.

"But the grown-up Lucas, the one who took over a business and was afraid every day to fail, that man had had one woman in his life who had been holding him up, and he hadn't seen it because he was blind." He brushed his lips against mine and groaned. "God, I missed your taste. I missed your voice."

He was ensnaring me, and I pulled away, wanting to protect myself. I hugged myself. I was in a tank top and sleep shorts. It was late when I opened the door and now I felt exposed because of it. This was too intimate. No man had seen me like this except maybe Basil since I met Lucas.

"You balanced me, and since you've been gone, I've felt your loss. I've lost my footing, and I'm falling, Amara," he continued his verbal assault on my heart.

His eyes filled with emotion, and I felt my protective walls crack.

"No," I whimpered, more to myself than him. "Don't do this to me, Lucas."

"Do what, Tesoro?"

Lucas was a predator when it came to taking what he wanted. He could see I was weak, and he prowled over to me, knowing he had me. I wanted to be stronger. But God, it had been so many months since I'd last felt loved and safe that the temptation to take what he offered without thinking about the future was more than I could bear.

But you have to, Amara. You give in, and he'll eat you alive.