AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But fuck them. Fuck them, those assholes. I straighten up, jaw working. Anger rushes into me. I’ve been dealing with men like Carson my whole life. Every woman does, especially women that take some risks, that dress how they want. The world’s full of Carsons, leering little shitheads. I won’t bend for him. I won’tchange.
“I’m fine wearing what I have on,” I say, back still turned to him.
“Didn’t you hear me? Those mob pricks—”
“I heard you,” I say, turning around. “I also heard you try to get me to put different clothes on just because some asshole made a joke.”
“I’m trying to win work from them,” he says, glaring at me. “This isn’t some swimsuit competition.”
“What, you’re embarrassed or something?” I feel so mortified I could die. “God, this is so pathetic.”
“Fiona,” Gareth says but I’m already walking away. Fuck him and fuck this job. I don’t need this. Maybe I’m screwing myself by storming off but what the hell, I was at rock bottom once. I can do it again.
He follows me. “Go away,” I say, walking faster. The house comes into view up ahead. “I’m not about to stick around for some asshole that’s embarrassed to have me around.”
“You think I’m embarrassed?” he asks.
“You sure as hell keep acting like it.”
“Fiona, just stop.”
I reach the outdoor shower and turn toward the back stairs, but Gareth grabs my arm.
I yank away. “Stop touching me.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” he says, leaning close, and pins me up against the shower door. I suck in a surprised breath at the look in his eyes. Pure lust. Pure rage. Possessive and intense. “Fuck, Fiona, you’re incredible. You’re fucking beautiful. By far the sexiest woman I’ve ever see in my life. You’re gorgeous. You think I’membarrassed? I’m proud to call you my wife, even if it’s not real. God damn, you look absolutely incredible, and it’s taking all my willpower to keep my hands to myself.”
I blink at him. Water glistens on his body. His lips hang open, his breath coming fast. His hands are on either side of my shoulders, keeping me locked in front of him. The old, scratchy wooden door digs into my back.
My anger doesn’t go away, because he’s still a dick, but thatwasnice to hear. “Then why are you asking me to change?”
“Because I can’t stand letting those assholes want you,” he says, eyes burning into mine. “It killed me, hearing him say that. It has nothing to do with what you’re wearing. It has everything to do with making youmine. I hate that Carson’s staring at your body, thinking about fucking you, when I’m doing the same thing. And I can’t even take what I want.”
“What do you want?” I whisper, licking my lips.
“You,” he said, tone strained. “Fuck, Fiona, you have to see that. I want you, but we both know it would be a massive mistake.”
“You want me,” I say, mouth hanging open. Core shivering with desire.
This is stupid—absolutely a mistake—but yet I can’t help it. The way he’s looking at me, his shirtless, damp body. It’s all rushing through my skull. Chasing away the anger. Leaving only adrenaline and pure lust behind.
“If we cross that line—” He stops himself, jaw tight. His fingers dig into the wood of the outdoor shower. “I’m not a good man. Carson said something out there. He said I have a reputation for flexible morality.”
“Why do you care what he thinks?” I whisper.
“Because I’m afraid he’s right.”
I reach up on impulse. I don’t know what I’m doing, but my fingers dig into his chest, my palm against his skin. His heart’s racing—god, it’s hammering so fast. He’s nervous, afraid, excited. All of the above. His pulse matches my own. My anger slowly fades, not forgotten, not by a long shot. But muted.
His skin is so warm under my touch.
“You care about things,” I say. “You have friends. You care about them.”
“I know that.”
“You care about me too. Back in Boston, you kissed me, remember? You told them we were married. That made your life a lot more complicated, but you did it to protect me.”
“It was convenient for me, too. It was a way to save face.”
