Page 43 of Brooks

“Bullshit.”

“Stop doing that. You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“Yeah, Doll, I do. And it’s bullshit.” No longer caring, since I was pissed, I made my move and tried to roll off of him. “Not gonna happen.”

“What’s not?”

“The hand. You closing down and pushing me away. You telling yourself a bunch of fucked-up lies. None of it.”

“The only thing I’ve lied to myself about is, thinkin’ this was a good idea,” I returned.

I had nowhere to go. One arm was like a steel band around my back holding me in place, the other was shoved in my hair and he was holding on there, too. I couldn’t move. Well, I could, but not without a struggle, and that struggle would result in him seeing me.

“No, baby, this being a good idea, is the only thing that’s not fucked-up.”

“You’re pissing me off,” I warned.

“You were pissed off a mile back. I’m okay with you being pissed. What I’m not okay with is you filling your head with a bunch of garbage. You are beautiful.”

If I could’ve covered my ears like a petulant child, I would’ve. I didn’t want to hear his shit. There was nothing beautiful about me. Nothing. He didn’t need to sweet talk me to get me into bed with him. I’d already proved I was a sure thing, times three.

“Let go of me.”

“Not until you listen.”

“Just stop. Please.”

“No way am I going to let you ruin what we just shared. When you forget and lose yourself you are a sight. You are wild and free.”

“I’m not wild,” I protested.

“Baby, you are. You gave yourself to me and I’m not letting you take it back.”

“I didn’t give myself to you.”

I was arguing just to argue. I needed to find a way to get away from him and out of the bed. His tone was far too possessive. The last thing I needed was the entanglement. The way he looked at me, touched me, held me close to him all night was too much. I couldn’t get lost in him, we had a job to do. When it was over, we’d both walk away. I didn’t need a broken heart when that happened.

“I think the last hour proves you wrong.”

“We need to get up.”

"We will, in a minute."

"What are you waiting for?"

"A good morning kiss."

"Oh, no. No more kissing. No more touching. No more sleeping in the same bed. I'll take the couch."

I was a little afraid of the lazy smile that played on his lips. I didn't need him to utter the words to know he didn't agree with my moratorium.

"Stop fucking around and kiss me good morning."

"Not gonna happen, Brooks. We need to get up. I have work to do. I have to go to the naval base and drop off some documents before we leave Bahrain."

"Then you better hurry, Doll."

Why wasn't I wrestling out of his grasp? I could've easily fought his hold and broken free. But I wasn't. I was still perched on his lap, naked, with his dick pressed between us. Why did he have to be so damn sexy? Or maybe a better question was, why was I so fucking weak?