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I blow out a breath. "I didn’t say that."
"You implied it." He notches his knuckles under my chin so I don’t have a choice but to meet his gaze. "It could have been anyone else, and I’d have still pursued you. It just so happens, in this case, it’s my son. I don’t take no for an answer."
"No kidding. Sometimes I’m sure the fact I’m someone else’s girlfriend is one of the reasons you want me. You want to acquire the prohibited, the out of reach, the thing that you can’t have."
He blinks, and I know I’m right.
"That’s it, isn’t it? It’s because I’m a challenge to you that I caught your eye."
He doesn’t deny it. Anger travels up my spine. A heavy weight crowds my chest. I turn and begin to pull away, but he doesn’t let me.
"I admit, it’s one of the things that I find alluring. When the odds are against me, I fight better. When I’m told I can’t have something, I fight harder. When everything pointed to the fact that I shouldn’t think of fucking you, it made me even more determined."
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "So, this is all a game to you? You’d screw up my life and the chance to have a good relationship with your son because you can’t resist the challenge?"
He doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t need to. The evidence is clear, and it all points to the fact that he can’t resist the prospect of taking me away from his son.
"Does my choosing you over your son mean so much to you?"
His head snaps back like I’ve slapped him.
"The fuck you talking about?"
"Do you think you’re in competition with your son? Is that what this is about?"
"You have no idea what you’re saying."
"Don’t I?" I tip up my chin. "You’re facing the inevitability of life, realizing you have less than half your life left in front of you. You’re confronting your own mortality when you see your son, and you want to deny it. It’s why you want to fuck me so badly. It’s not anything to do with your son, as you say. It’s about you facing yourself. Your regret over your past. Your helplessness over your future. You can’t bear the thought of growing old, and shagging a woman less than half your age is your way of trying to stop the wheel of time from turning. You think you’re reinventing yourself, but I have news for you. You’re pathetic, JJ. A cliché." My breath comes out in pants. My heart oscillates in my rib cage like the pendulum of a clock that’s counting down… Toward what, though? I stare into his perfectly black eyes and notice slivers of silver in them. It’s as if he’s mirroring the agitation I feel in myself. I just insulted him in the worst way I could think of and he’s not reacting at all. Is that good or bad?
Then his fingers tighten on my hips with enough force that I know he’s left marks there. Good. I want him to mark me. I want him to tear through my objections and fuck me. I want him to see past the bluster, the spiel I’ve launched at him, and kiss me.
"Kiss me," I croak. "Do it."
He peels back his lips. His teeth glisten. He’s a predator, a ravager, a marauder who’s going to plunder me of every last shred of self-respect and reveal what I truly am. A willing sacrifice at the altar of his lust.
I move; so does he.
Our mouths clash. Our lips fuse together. Our tongues tangle. I kiss him fiercely and he kisses me with the kind of hunger that sweeps through me, sinks into my bones, tears through my cells, leaving a zip of fire in its wake that unravels with such speed that my entire body seems to detonate into flames.
He yanks me to him so my breasts are crushed against the wall of his chest. I dig my fingers into his thick, dark hair and tug. He growls deep in his throat, and the vibrations run down my body. My nipples peak, and a heavy pulse fountains to life between my legs. Liquid heat sizzles up my thighs and I grind down on the thick, fat column that stabs up and into my core. A groan wells up, and he deepens the kiss. He holds my hips in place and slants his head so his tongue fills my mouth. He sucks from me, seeming to draw out all of my hesitation, the last vestiges of shame, of doubt and indecision, and lighting them up with the fire of his intent. The flames of our pent-up desire sweep through me, turning everything into ash, which is swept away in the tsunami of emotions that invade every pore of my body. My breath comes in pants, my muscles quiver, and every cell in my body seems to have tuned into him. His scent, his taste, the feeling of his hands on me, the sensation of his big, hard body that cushions me. The massive steel rod in his pants that fills the space between my legs, hinting at how good it would feel without the barrier of the clothes between us.
"Hurry," I gasp.
At least, I think I do. He’s still eating my mouth like he’s been deprived of any sustenance for decades. He must understand, though, for he grips the front of my blouse and yanks. The buttons pop, the front panels part. White-hot lust cleaves through me. My head spins. I try to breathe and my lungs burn. He tears his mouth from mine and glares at me.
"I hate you for how you make me feel," I burst out.
He peels back his lips. "I’m going to fuck you now."
32
JJ
Her gaze widens. The black of her pupils has bled out until only a circle of gleaming brown remains around their circumferences.
"I’m going to fuckyou." She wriggles her hips over the throbbing tent at my crotch. I thrust my hand up her skirt, grip her panties, and tear them off.
She gasps. "You’re an animal. A filthy, salacious beast who—"
