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She scrambled off the bed, staring at me angrily. “Why the fuck do you think? You wanna force yourself on me, you should expect me to fight back! Just FYI!”
I moved off the bed and lurched towards her. “Don’t be fucking dramatic. I wasn’t fucking trying to force myself on you.”
Her eyes widened. “Well, what the hell would you call it when a woman says no and her man doesn’t listen?” She screamed her question at me, almost out of breath because she was that worked up.
I moved in close to her, backing her into the corner where she pressed herself against the wall like she was trying to escape me. “I’d fucking call it desperation. I’m so fucking hard for you, every fucking day, and every time I manage to get close to you, you shut me the fuck down.” My eyes bored into hers. “At some point, you need to give me what I want.”
She glared back at me. “Or what, King? You’ll just take it?”
I glared back at her, my blood pumping hard, my head pounding.
Fuck.
How the hell had we gotten here?
How the fuck had I become this man?
I stumbled backwards, like I’d been punched hard in the gut.
I would never just take it from her.
Fucking never.
But would I have if she hadn’t been able to fight me off?
Bile lodged in my throat, and my mind raced to catch up with everything happening.
Fuck.
I had to get out of here.
I needed to put distance between us and get my fucking head together.
I had to figure out if I was willing to put Ivy at risk again.
At risk of being hurt by me.
10
King
Fifteen Years Ago
Age 24
* * *
There were moments in your life that changed everything. Sometimes they were planned. Sometimes fate dealt them. As I leaned back against the clubhouse couch and forced the club whore’s mouth down over my dick, I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath. This was a moment I would never forget.
Planned? Yes.
Life altering? Yes.
Fucked up? Fuck yes.
But then, fucked up was my style. So Ivy shouldn’t have ever figured me for anything else.
I’d spent nearly six months working up to this moment. After the night I almost forced myself on her. Hell, I’d tried to do this in a civilised manner, but she hadn’t accepted that. It turned out that although she’d thrown her walls up at me for months, she blanched at the idea of us walking away from each other. She’d refused to accept a break-up, declaring her love for me and promising to try harder. Never wanting to imagine a life without her, I’d allowed our dysfunction to continue. So here we were about to spiral into poison and a betrayal we were guaranteed to never recover from.
