Page 55 of Creeping Beautiful

Yes.

Yes. That’s what I want. I want her to cry. I want to make her sob.

One of her hands slips out of my grip and her fingernails dig into the thick, hard muscle of my shoulder. I lean into her ear and whisper, “I like it.”

She turns her head and bites me on the arm. And I wince at the pain. She pulls her mouth off my skin and then… gently… she kisses the mark she left.

I go still for a moment, breathing hard as she pants underneath me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, goddammit! I need this! I need you to fuck me, McKay. Hard. Right now. Don’t go easy. You said you would never go easy on me and then you did. You always did. You always pulled that punch and second-guessed yourself. And that’s why I’m the way I am. You did that! You did that when you tried to make me soft! When will you ever learn that I’m not—”

I thrust inside her again. She squeals, her body inching up towards the headboard and her legs kicking underneath me.

But she asked for it. “Is this how you want it then? From now on, Indie? Hard and rough?”

“Yes. Yes. That’s how I want it. That’s how I need it.”

I fuck her. But the anger inside me does what it always does when Indie is around. It fades. And then there’s nothing left.

There’s just nothing left.

I roll off her and resume my position staring at the ceiling.

“What are you doing?”

“Just fuckin’ forget it. I can’t. I can’t do this. You just walk out for four fucking years and then come back and expect… what?” I look at her. “That we’ll be the same? We’re not the same, Indie. We’re never gonna be the same ever again.”

“I came back. That’s the important part.”

“That’s not the important part. Because when you left…” I sigh and hide my eyes in the crook of my elbow.

She climbs on top of me, flat and still. Her cheek rests on my chest and when her hand grips my wrist and tries to pry my arm away from my face her touch is gentle. And I’m not used to that. I’m not used to her anymore.

I push her off me and turn my back to her. And that’s something I never thought I’d do.

“Why are you acting like this?”

I just shake my head, still hiding my eyes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean? McKay. Look at me. What does that mean?”

It means… I don’t know what it means.

I hurt? I’m sad? I’m fucking lost? I want her? I hate her? I need her?

What the fuck does it mean?

There’s a banging downstairs in the shop and I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Donovan’s here.” I stand up, find my jeans on the floor and I’m already pulling them up my legs when I say, “Get dressed. Now.”

Then I exit the bedroom and close the door behind me just as the front door of my apartment opens and Donovan walks through wearing a motherfucking tuxedo.

I huff out a disgusted laugh. “Oh, I get it. You were busy tonight. What? You had a party to go to, Donovan? You had guests over? Some fucking Hollywood awards ceremony happening tonight that I don’t know about?”

He stops in the middle of the living room and just looks at me. His eyes track right to the bite mark on my arm and he shoots me his own version of a disgusted laugh right back. “I see you two didn’t waste any time catching up.”