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“Stop it. Don’t make me feel bad for doing something that helped. I’m glad I could, even if it’s only temporary.”
“Stay out of this.”
“It’s a recurring charge.”
“What?”
“You can pay me back.”
“Cancel it. I mean it. I don’t know what’s going to happen from now until my next fight.”
“Whatever happens, I want him to have those meds. I don’t give a damn if you pay me back, I’m just saying it for the sake of saying it, kind of like the way you’re ignoring the fact that you love me.”
He snatches me to him by my wrist. “You aren’t wanted here. Go. Home.”
“You love me.” I palm his face, and he rips it from my touch, his breaths coming fast. Undeterred, I step away.
“Look at me.”
Jaw locked, his hostile gaze drifts up to mine.
“You love me. You’re full of piss and vinegar because you’re sick of life. I get it. Take it out on me.” I slide my hand between the valley of my breasts, and his eyes follow as I rim my shorts. I feel the shift, the tension growing unbearable as he watches.
Slowly, I begin the descent of my hand before sliding my fingers between my legs. “You love me, and you damned sure want me. You’re jealous of my fingers,” I say, increasing the pace. “I want you here too.” I bite my lip, my eyes hooding before he jerks my hand out of my shorts.
“You still think this is a game?”
“No, Lance. I’m pretty fucking serious. Though I desperately miss your sense of humor. But I’ll give you a pardon because it seems you’ve lost every bit of sense in that thick ass head of yours. So how about we ease some of that tension. Take me. I’m right here. Take it. I want nothing more than for you to take it out on me.” I grab my towel. “I can bite into this. No one will be the wiser.”
In second
s I’m bent over the sink, scalp stinging due to his fist full of my hair.
“Atta boy.”
He commands my eyes in the mirror. “You don’t want this. You don’t know what you’re asking. You don’t want to know this level of depravity.”
“I’m not the inexperienced little dancer you met. You changed that. You keep changing it.” Reaching behind me, I grip his thick cock and feel he’s hard. “You made me a fighter too.”
“You want to be fucked and used?”
“Used? You’re incapable of using me, but if that’s what you want to call it—and if used feels as good as it did in New York—I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Damn you, Harper,” he hisses, and I sense him weakening as I stroke his length. I can feel the anger rolling off him.
Loving Lance has always meant embracing his demons. Two years ago, we were able to keep them at bay. That no longer seems to be the case. “You want to play devil?” I taunt, “I’ll be your greatest advocate. If this is what keeps you fighting, so be it. Whatever it takes. I love you. All of you. Even the asshole who seems to have taken up permanent residence. I’m not leaving. Fight me, fuck me, it’s your decision. But I’m not leaving.” I stroke him again and feel his fingers at the top of my shorts. His grip on my hair tightens as his cock jerks at my touch. Breasts heavy, I stand in wait as he jerks his sweats down, and murderous eyes meet mine. He’s at my entrance when a knock sounds on the door.
“I have to piss,” Trevor says from the other side.
Lance jerks away from me, his voice coated in arousal when he replies. “Use mine.”
I straighten, heart hammering as he steps away, shutting me out.
“Go home.” It’s a new tone, one I’ve never heard from him, and I can’t help the crack I feel in my foundation.
Singed, I open the door, steadying my voice. “I am home.” His eyes are still on me when I shut the door. Seconds later, I hear the crack of drywall.
Harper
