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My head screams at me to slow down, cherish her, worship each taste, but desire takes over. “Mine,” I growl into her mouth and tilt her head gently, taking control possessively.
She whimpers and moans, driving me harder. My body comes alive with need.
Her hands unclench and travel up my chest and neck then cup my cheeks, her finger gripping at my beard. I make a move to lean us back and she freezes.
“Stop!” she chokes out against my mouth and physically breaks us apart.
Neither of us moves for a few minutes; the only sound is us trying to get our breathing under control. She drops her head to her chest for a spilt-second b
efore raising her face back to mine.
“What exactly does all that mean? Swift kick in the ass? Claiming what’s yours?”
“Claire told me about the job offer, opened my eyes to how close I am to losing you for good. I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that.”
Her eyes narrow into slits, the air in the room turning ice cold. She leaps up, shoving me hard on my ass, and stalks to the living room. When she turns back to me, I barely stumble to my feet.
That spark of anger from a few minutes ago turns into an inferno. “Let me get this straight. You’ve blown me off for over a month, after leaving here the day before my birthday with promises to return. Twenty-four hours later, you basically shut me out. Months of promises of love, futures, and life-long commitments disintegrated into ashes. I’m forced to deal with scraps of time you threw me late at night or early in the morning, which never really amounted to more than a casual conversation that felt like strangers.”
Her hands fly through the air as she shouts, fury radiating with each word. I know I should feel terrible. I should drop back to my knees and worship at her feet, but instead, the blood starts to sizzle through my veins, energizing me. This is what I wanted. I imagined nothing less from her.
“I’ve asked you, begged you to talk to me. I’ve been available for any measly scrap of attention you’d throw my way, telling myself you were going through a tough time. I berated myself to the point of being sick because of the loneliness, all the while trying to be supportive and give you time to come to terms. Every minute you were with Sasha, I questioned whether it would be the day she finally got her claws in you, and I was only a memory. Nicky told me to give you time when I was at the point of giving up. So I did, because I love you that much.
“You knew I was alone on Christmas. You know how much this holiday means to me, yet you never offered to be with me. Out of nowhere, you sneak your way back, in the middle of the night, because you hear I have a job offer? The most lucrative and exciting job offer of my career, I might add, and say you’re CLAIMING ME!?!”
That’s all it takes, and I’m moving. She doesn’t have time to turn and run before I haul her over my shoulder. She struggles, beating my lower back, shouting obscenities then squeals in a high-pitched voice as she flies through the air and lands on the sofa. She scrambles to move, but I’m quicker, pinning her arms above her head and her lower body between my knees.
Her eyes lock with mine, burning in defiance. She kicks and squirms beneath me, fighting hard. I have to struggle to keep hold of her arms while fighting my own battle to control my now raging hard-on. There’s no doubt she’ll deck me for the timing.
And I deserve it. But damn if she isn’t fucking sexy. This is how I know she owns me. Watching her wiggle to get loose and possibly castrate me for my timing is only making me harder.
God, I’m an idiot. How’d I ever think keeping my feelings inside was the right decision?
“Baby, keep spouting that shit. I should punish you for not doing it weeks ago. Every word out of your mouth should have been shared. I was a prick. I know that now. Hell, I knew it while it was happening, but that’s over. I’ll explain everything to you, anything you want to know. Each and every moment I was in her presence was brutal, agonizing, and grating. There was not one second my skin didn’t crawl, so I did something I’ve never done. I closed off my brain, trained myself to be numb, to go through the motions. I didn’t know how to turn it off and on, and I had to try and make her happy. My only defense is I was doing what I thought was best for my son.”
“That’s not enough for me! I am supposed to be your confidant, your rock. Give you support when you need it! Instead, you made me feel insignificant and unimportant! I’ve spent weeks mourning the loss of you, wondering if there is a way to overcome this pain.”
Fuck, that hurts.
“Stop fighting me and listen.” I lower my voice, trying to calm her down.
She slows her movements but glares at me, her eyes now scorching with betrayal.
“There’s no excuse that will ever be good enough, but the truth is, I buckled under pressure. For all those months, I tried to handle what was happening with precision and logic, never allowing emotions to get involved. But the moment I saw him, it became real, and I collapsed. Everything in my world was turned upside down. I knew it was happening but couldn’t control it. Emotionally, I was actually mourning the feelings inside, feeling the joy and heartache. The contrast became too much, and I couldn’t handle it. Every ounce of love I felt for my unborn son felt disloyal to you and the life we were building. How could I ask you to love him when his mother is a source of some of your worst memories? Coming to terms with Sasha was something I had to do, and I wasn’t sure how to ask you to do the same. Something had to give, and I wasn’t sure what that was, until the fog cleared, and I was faced with losing you.
“That wasn’t and never will be an option.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you explain this?” The defiance bleeds into sympathy, her anger thawing. “I could have helped you.”
“Because the guilt was too heavy. I couldn’t find the words.”
“So you let me suffer?”
“I’ve already said it, but I’ve failed you too many times to count. I had a plan. It was a shitty plan, but I was going to tell you everything when you came back to Miami. I never dreamed you’d be given a job offer and even consider staying. I was biding my time. Suffering was not my intention. I thought it would be easier for you to think I was an asshole than to know the truth.”
“The truth! The truth that you fell in love with your son so hard that you’d do anything to keep his mother happy? That you put his needs before yours, and in the process, lost your identity? Talk about punishment! I should be the one punishing you! What a fucking ridiculous train of thought!”
She struggles again to get her arms free, but I take advantage of her position, leaning in and running my lips along the column of her throat.
