AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’M FINALLY THE ASSHOLE
PAST
This is revenge sex,I try to convince myself as I sit silently in the back of the sleek black car that came to pick up Abraham and I.
We’re wordless as we make our way to the final destination. Where that was, I couldn’t say. I can’t touch him, can’t look at him, can’t let myself fall into the trap that is his charm.
And once I’m done, I’m gonna walk out of his hotel room and never see him again.
Maybe this is the test I need to see if I’m ready to commit to Peter?
My mind does backflips, trying to condone what it is I’m about to do. I’m not this person. I’ve never been this person.
Heartbreak tainted me. Watching my sister go through her own has bolstered me further into a territory where I don’t want to give any man a single ounce of my power.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks and I close my eyes at the sound of his accent, at the way I used to love it, at the way an Italian word or two would slide into his monologue when he was feeling passionate.
“Why are you in Boston?”
It’s the only safe thing I can think to ask.
“I’m wrapping up a film,” he tells me, and I open my eyes to watch the Boston night sky, tilting my head against the glass window. “If I’m being honest, I was hoping I’d see you here.”
I want to ask him why. I want to remind him of the last time we saw each other. I want to ask him about his ex-wife. I want to demand an apology.
So many things I want to do. But more than that, I want to take from him and leave him with his withered hope.
The car comes to a stop outside the Boston Harbor Hotel, and I continue staring out the window, at the gorgeous building. I’ve driven past it many times, never having been inside.
“Are you ready?” His question is quiet, but not as I quiet as I am, only giving him a nod, not even looking his way.
I hear his door open and before I know it, he’s opening mine, offering his hand to help me out.
Still silent, I take it. And all while we walk through the building, into the elevator, and up to his room, he keeps my hand in his.
It’s a display of affection I wasn’t afforded in the past—one I deigned to accept. One I’m coming apart over.
He wants to kiss, to hold hands, to rehash the past and fall in love all over again.
He wants to make love to me. But I want to fuck him the same way he did my heart.
I’m better with revenge than I am with forgiveness.
We walk into his suite and as he removes his jacket, I peruse the room, ending up at the large window, taking in the view of the harbor.
“I like seeing you here,” he murmurs, and I jump a little, not realizing he was so close. He makes quick work of sliding my jacket off my shoulders and when it hits the floor, I take a deep breath.
“The red is different,” he murmurs before running his fingers along the base of my neck. When I tilt my head to the side to give him access to more skin, he slides his fingers into my hair and grips the strands to keep me still. “I’ve been looking for bright red and all this time, you’ve been hiding under this ginger shade.”
It’s too much.
Why can’t he just fuck me quietly?
In an effort to keep him silent, I turn and kiss him, placing my arms over his shoulders.
Would this be considered our second first kiss? I’ve kissed quite a few people since him, but none as skillful as he is. It’s a thought that makes me still, thinking of Peter.
He feels me stiffen and pulls back to look into my eyes.
