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There’s no baking in the world that could quench the impenetrable desire I have for this man. I haven’t even truly had him, yet just his kisses, lush and intoxicating, paired with his gruff hands on my skin and his commanding hold of my body, let me know I’ll be ruined forever.
Ruined in the very best way.
He sucks on my bottom lip and then moves to my neck, licking and sucking along the tender skin. I moan and let my hands roam against his shirtless torso, feeling every hard plane dip under the tips of my fingers. The straps of my dress fall down my arms, exposing the lace of my strapless bra.
A low growl vibrates against my neck, and I shiver.
“You’re even better than in my dreams,” I breathe as his lips graze the side of my neck.
His mouth stops moving. His lips are still on my neck, yet his hips are inching away from me.
My brow furrows as I sense the heat from our bodies dissipating at a rapid descent.
Rob pushes off the wall behind me. His jaw is tight, and he seems angry.
“I fucked up,” he says.
I lift my spaghetti strap onto my shoulder and glare back at him. “Not exactly what a woman wants to hear after she was just kissed by a man.”
“You want the fairy tale, and I can’t give that to you. You live in a dream world.”
“You’re not serious—”
“This can’t happen, Tara.”
Rob backs away and leaves the shed in a huff. I’m left to gather my thoughts. Brushing my hair off my forehead, I look around. I don’t go outside immediately. I’m too confused. Too angry.
Walking outside, I see his shirt on the ground, the one he took off to chop wood. I pick it up. It smells like him, musky and laced with testosterone. I hate the smell of this shirt. I hate it because it reminds me of him. The man who has me so damn wrapped around his finger that I can’t even breathe.
My thoughts are running rampant in my head. We haven’t known each other long, and yet it feels like I’ve been at war with him for an eternity. What kind of battle are we even in? I’m so frustrated that I could scream.
This man has brought me to the brink before, but this time is far too different.
This time, I’m not letting him off the hook that easily.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
I stomp into the house. The sun has set, casting a cascade of darkness over the property. The downstairs rooms are vacant. No one is in here, so I storm over to the basement. All the lights are off, including the back room.
I walk upstairs and onto the second floor.
Jesse and Molly are in their rooms. I pass their doors and hear their televisions on inside.
Rob’s bedroom door is closed, but it doesn’t stop me from barging in and closing it behind me.
He’s standing beside his bed, his boots and socks off, yet he’s still in jeans and no shirt.
I throw his shirt at him. He doesn’t move to catch it, his eyes are wide and allured by the fact I’m standing here, in his room.
“I’ve had enough,” I declare. My cheeks flush, and I know it because I can feel the heat radiating through my body.
“You shouldn’t be up here.”
“Shut up,” I tell him. “Shut the hell up, Robert Bronson, because I am about to unleash fury upon you, and you will listen. Starting with the fact that I’m sick and tired of you telling me what can and cannot happen.”
I take a step toward him, my hand out as I tick off all the idiotic responses he’s said to me. “You can’t look at me like that. You and I can’t happen. You want the fairy tale. I can’t give that to you. You live in a dream world.”
“I’ve told you before, I like living in this damn head of mine. It’s fun and free and far better than your stupid brain of resentment.
