Page 121 of Mark my Words

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” she snapped, resting her hands on my shoulders. “I’ve never been more clear headed.”

My brain was confused, but other parts of me had perked up as she settled on my thighs. She was staring at my mouth and claimed she came here to talk, but she was being quiet for someone who had so much to say.

“I’m so fricking angry at you,” she hissed as one of her hands grasped the side of my neck. After a few moments of tense silence, it slipped toward the back of my neck and gripped the hair at the nape.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Poking the bear on my lap probably wasn’t smart, but things had never been easy between us. One of us was always being a smartass. It was just how we worked.

“Shut up, Sam.”

She licked her lips, and my fingers tensed on her sides as she scooted closer, bringing her in direct contact with the growing problem in my sleep pants. Clearly my dick had missed it’s playmate. A soft gasp rang out as she ground herself against me.

Afraid to move, I tried to sit still as she shifted, but it only worsened my problem. She was sending mixed messages for someone who hated me.

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered as she leaned her forehead against mine. “I honestly don’t know. I should stay away from you, but...”

“But?”

A single tear tracked down the side of her face, and I hated that I’d been another person who’d let her down. She’d been blindsided when we returned to Boston, and I knew I was the cause. She was right. I should have talked to her after my video interview with Sloane, but I was afraid she’d resent me eventually if she found out she’d been passed up for the job. Going to Chicago meant she got what she wanted. I never factored in her wanting me instead.

“It hurts too much to stay away.”

I’d never had faith that she’d choose me without hesitating, so I’d run to protect myself. I’d accused her of running for the same reasons, hating it when she pulled away when things became serious. But in the end, I’d been the one to flee instead of figuring out the future with her. The decision had already been made when I realized she might love me too.

“Kiss me, please?”

Those words were all I’d wanted from her a few months ago. Her acknowledgment that she needed me too. That our relationship hadn’t been one-sided.

“Please?” she murmured, cupping my cheeks and tilting my face toward her, dragging her soft lips against mine.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, momentarily leaning forward and losing myself in her taste. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Everyone does,” she whispered brokenly, making my heart hurt. She rocked over me frantically, desperate whimpers escaping her throat as she kissed me again, over and over. We poured everything that had gone unsaid into each other’s lips, only pulling apart momentarily as she lifted my shirt off, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she dove back in for more.

“We should talk,” I gasped as she ground her hips against mine, her fingers pulling down the straps of her dress, letting it pool at her waist.

She grasped my hands, pulling them to cover her breasts. “I don’t want to talk. Talking makes things more difficult. Touch me. Pretend you felt the way I thought you did that last night.”

“But...”

She leaned in, letting her lips close around my earlobe. “I want you to fuck me, Sam. I’ll beg if you need me to. Isn’t that what you want from me?”

“Fuck,” I groaned as she pushed me to the bed, digging her fingernails into my chest. “I want so much more than that, baby.”

She grasped the material of the dress around her waist, pulling it over her head and roughly pitching it off the side of the bed. Her breasts heaved as she ground her hips against me, the lace barely containing the swells of her chest.

Flashes of the last time we were together like this wound their way through my thoughts, the desperation of that last time we were together fueling my need to do this differently, to make this better for her. I’d been selfish the last time, but I could make this time better.

Grasping her hips, I leaned forward, kissing her shoulder. She dug her fingernails into my shoulders roughly, growling in my ear as she ground into my lap.

“I don’t want tender, Sam. I want you to make it hurt. I want to remind myself why I should stay away from you.”

My fingers slowed her movements, urging her sideways as I laid her down against my sheets, her dark hair spreading out behind her on my pillow. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore. Not because of me.”

“Just fuck me.”

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