Page 76 of Rainstorm

“Like the love of my life.”

That you gave divorce papers to, remember?

Fuck. Him.

And fuck his silver tongue.

Wine is confusing me. I’m a raging mess.

“Why have you gone out dressed like this?” he demands, which thankfully makes me angry all over again. Anger is good, anger I can handle.

“Because I wanted to,” I retort, trying to get out of his grip.

“For that guy? The one who just brought you back?”

“Fuck you, Chase!” I snap. “You wanted to be free, remember? So, it’s none of your business how I dress, where I go, or who I see!”

But he doesn’t let me go, and when I turn to confront him, we end up face to face, our bodies clashing and my determination fading as we end up kissing.

His mouth is paradise and I want to stay there, savoring him, and letting him savor me. His arms imprison me, lift me and make me fly. I’m in heaven while his possessive lips take everything from me.

I’m lost in a stormy sea of desire, a wave dragging me along as I happily ride it, my legs surrounding him and trapping him close to my body, close to the part of me that’s so wet against his hard erection.

I have missed him more than I dare to admit.

He’s going to fuck me right here in the corridor.

And I’m going to let him.

His effect is like a storm. Too powerful to fight.

I’m happy to surrender.

Until a voice inside my head screams, forcing me to scream out loud.

“Let me go, Chase!” Immediately he lets me go and helps me to stand.

He might be an asshole, but at least he’s a gentleman asshole.

“I miss you, Rose.”

“I miss you too,” I admit. “But that doesn’t mean we’re getting back together, and I’m certainly not lowering myself to let you take me right here in the corridor where anyone can see us.”

“Okay, so let’s go home instead,” he suggests with a smile, as he takes my hand.

“No, Chase. That’s not happening. It’s a no on my part,” I state firmly, pulling my hand from his, surprised that I sound so calm.

“I don’t want to fight with you. That’s the last thing I want.”

So what does he want? What is he expecting from me? How am I supposed to deal with his utterly confusing behavior? He does one thing, says another and acts completely differently from one day to the next.

“You made your choice, Chase. You wanted a divorce, and in case you hadn’t realized, divorced people don’t sleep together. So deal with it.” By yourself, jackass.

He gapes at me, apparently unable to accept my rejection. He’s always been able to sweep me off my feet. But not this time. And not any time in the future. He can’t treat me this way, I won’t allow it.

I take advantage of his shock to go inside. With the apartment door firmly closed behind me, I realize that being a bitch works for me.

Congratulations, girl. You didn’t let him walk all over you, you didn’t let him get his own way. I pat myself on the back, even though this feels like a bittersweet victory.

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