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I can’t fucking do this anymore.
* * *
I walk right behind her the whole way back to my penthouse. Neither of us says a word in the elevator, and for once, I don’t stand right on top of her, sensing that she needs space.
It goes against everything in me. All I want to do is hold her close and whisper words of love in her ear.
Taking her in the ocean was the single most exhilarating moment of my life. It’s like I wasn’t alive until our bodies connected, until we became one.
I’ve never come so hard in my entire life.
But I see the guarded way she holds herself, the tears pricking her eyes. She’s trying so hard not to let them fall.
God, did I hurt her? It hurts me to think I hurt her.
But I remember how she quaked and fell apart in my arms. Her moans and screams of pleasure.
She’d liked it, whether she wants to admit it or not.
We’re both still dripping from the ocean where neither of us dried off. We’re getting the floor soaking wet when we get off the elevator, but I don’t give a fuck.
She goes straight into the bathroom and gets a towel. I stand in the doorway and watch her as she begins toweling herself off, squeezing the water from her hair last.
She’s still refusing to meet my eyes. Okay, so she’s pissed. I get it. I kind of railroaded her. But damn it, I know she wants this too. She doesn’t need to fight this. She doesn’t need to fight this thing between us.
But she feels like she has to, and I know why.
Because I’m the enemy.
The man who would destroy her little world.
But doesn’t she realize I would build her a new one? A better one? Filled with any and every fucking thing she could ever want?
She pushes past me, still without looking at me, and goes to the closet. She throws on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top over her wet bikini. I’ve been inside and she still doesn’t want to get naked in front of me. I get the message.
She grabs her little purse that has her wallet in it and slings it over her shoulder.
I frown then.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I’m growling at her, but fuck, she pushes every button I have.
“I’m leaving,” her eyes flash fire at me as she begins to walk back over to the door.
“The hell you are,” I tell her, standing in her way.
She puts her hands up between us in a defensive gesture. “You can’t just hold me prisoner here, Dane,” she says.
I glare at her. I could. I could lock her up here in my penthouse suite and never let her leave. Keep her just for me. In fact, I’m tempted to do it. But then I see her lip tremble, and something akin to shame fills me.
What am I doing? I can’t force her to stay here with me. She’s like a sunflower. She needs sunshine. She’ll wilt if she’s locked away, and I can’t do that to her. She’s light and laughter and sunshine, and I can’t dim my fucking sunshine.
I can’t break her like that. I can’t break her more than I already have.
“Don’t fight this,” my voice is ragged, but her eyes are shuttered. She’s shut me out. She’s not hearing me.
“Let me go, Dane,” she says firmly, but I hear the tremble in her voice.
I fight back the only way I know how. “Our thirty days aren’t up yet. You walk out that door, and the deal’s off.” My voice is hard, and I hate myself for it but better that letting her see how she’s crushing me inside.
