Page 172 of Stanton Unconditional

“Josh,” I whisper, “I can’t.…keep…”

“Shut up and fuck me,” he whispers darkly as he bites me hard again, and his brutal hits into my flesh and starts to liquefy my insides. One, two, three hard pumps and he lurches forward as he comes in a rush and I feel the heat of his semen burn me from the inside out. I drop my head to his shoulder as we both struggle for breath. I smile into his body as his aggression turns gentle and he starts to gently shower my face with soft kisses. How can one person go from being a sex crazed animal one minute to being gentle and tender in the next? I lean into him as exhaustion hits me once more. My vagina is throbbing with over-use and he is still deep inside me. We sit in silence as the steam continues to fill the bathroom.

“I’m angry with you,” he whispers into the top of my head.

I pull back and look at his face.

“You’re angry with me?” I frown.

He nods and lifts me to ease himself out of me and puts me onto the ground.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that girl and the sex tape?” I frown. He glares at me and brushes past to get into the shower.

“Because I knew you would overreact.” He pumps the soap dispenser and starts to wash himself double time.

I stand naked outside the shower and put my hand on my hip. Is he kidding?

“Overreact,” I repeat. He is unfucking believable.

He glares at me and nods in defiance. “That’s what I said, didn’t I?” I throw him a filthy look.

“Hurry up. I want to get in,” I snap.

He moves to the side and I brush past him angrily.

He washes his hair and I start to wash myself and then he gets out angrily and starts to dry himself.

“You haven’t seen me overreact yet, Joshua.”

He rolls his eyes and fakes a smile. He is bloody kidding himself. “Listen, asshole,” I snap. “You do not get to keep secrets from me with no consequences. I’ve had all the deceit from you that I am going to take.”

He lurches at me like the devil himself. “And I have had enough of trying to protect you only to be treated like an asshole. It was before we were together, so it has nothing to do with you.”

“What?” I scream. “Nothing to do with me, are you kidding? What the hell are you talking about, you idiot, it has everything to do with me.”

“This isn’t about you or me Natasha,” he screams.

I screw up my face. “What the hell are you talking about now? You’ve totally lost it.”

“Do you think I want my children to be able to google me having sex with a prostitute in twenty years?”

I stand still. Shit, he’s right. If this gets on the internet, he’s totally screwed.

“But, of course, it’s about you, Natasha…everything is about you!” He wraps the towel around his waist angrily and leaves the bathroom.

My God, he’s an asshole. I turn the shower off, wrap a towel around me and storm out dripping wet after him. I find him in my bedroom rummaging through the closet for something to wear. Cameron and Bridget are in the same positions we left them in on my bed fast asleep.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I scream.

“It means you were supposed to stand by my side last night and unite with me but of course you would blame me and leave.”

“Why do you say that?” I scream. He has got to be kidding. I am not taking the blame for his keeping secrets. What a prick.

“Because it’s what you do best!” he screams.

“Shut the hell up, you two,” Cameron sighs.

“You shut up,” I yell in reply to Cameron. “Get out of my room, I want to get dressed.”