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"Look me in the eyes and say you don't want me to fuck you right here on thiscarpet." I breathed against her lips as I took her lower one between my teeth.
“I don’t want you.” She pulled her lip free to speak as I tasted the metallic taste of her blood in my mouth. “Get out.” Blood pooled on her plump lip. “Please,” she begged.
Hearing the plea in her voice as she asked me to leave was a blow, but it also brought me back down to Earth. What the fuck was I doing?! I released her arms as I stood abruptly, Ana following quickly. She shoved me out the door and slammed it once I was in the corridor. The knife clattered on the bedside table as she let out a frustrated scream.
Is this what my life would become? A living nightmare?
I had no words to describe what I was feeling. I just knew I didn’t want to love her. I didn’t want her to rely on me. I didn’t want us to be anything other than a deal, an arrangement. But something drew me to her. She was the drug and all I needed was one hit.
Just one.
I slammed my door behind me and pummelled my fist into the wall with a scream. This fucking woman was driving me insane!
What the fuck was wrong with me!
I punched the wall again, but as I cried out for the second time, the door flew open, revealing Ana on the other side.
“What the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?” Her face fell when she noticed the blood dripping from my hand onto the carpet.
“I don’t need you here,” I snapped.
“Tell that to your hand.” She entered my room without permission and headed straight to the bathroom, returning soon after with a towel in her hand. “Sit down,” she ordered.
“I don’t need to sit down!”
“Suit yourself!” She scoffed as she took my hand in hers, my blood staining her skin. She wiped around the wound on my knuckles with a damp towel, her touch as gentle, soft and delicate as she was.
Her hair fell onto my arm, tickling my skin as her fresh scent invaded my private space, the one place that was mine and mine alone. I watched her intently as she tended to my wound. Her nose wrinkled with concentration as she cleaned away the last of the blood. I could tell she enjoyed my hands on her body, but I knew despite me wanting her, I had to ignore that niggling voice in my mind saying fuck her once and you’ll get her out of your system.
“There, you’re all done,” she said, breaking my thoughts as she wrapped a bandage around my knuckles. “Do you need anything else?” Not once did she lock her eyes with mine.
“No. Not from you anyway. You can go.” I turned away from her, unable to see the possible hurt on her face.
“How could I have been so stupid? Thinking we could actually get along. Wondering if I helped you, you wouldn’t be such a motherfucker to me. How wrong could I be?” The hurt was apparent in her voice as she left me standing alone.
Why did I do that?
Why was I so torn between letting her see who I was and letting her think I was an arsehole?!
* * *
The next morning, I met Red, Gino, and Emmet in the kitchen eating breakfast. The amazing aroma filled the room, something we weren’t used to.
“What the fuck is this?” I questioned as I eyed the plates full of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
“Anastacia cooked us breakfast to thank us for welcoming her yesterday,” Red piped up as he shovelled a forkful of food into his mouth.
“I thought I told you all to keep your distance from her?” I slammed my injured hand onto the countertop, causing them to look at me.
“Boss, she just wanted to thank us, that’s all,” Emmet chimed in. “We didn’t ask her for anything,” he continued.
“Lorenzo, what happened to your hand?” Gino asked, distracting the other two.
“It’s nothing, just a scratch.” I scoffed as I poured a coffee from the steaming pot.
“It looks a lot more than a scratch.” He raised his brow as he questioned me. “Looks well bandaged too. How did you manage that?” he queried.
“I didn’t,” I mumbled.
