Page 142 of Bitter Secrets

“You start off by thanking me for being nice and follow it up by saying I’m heartless. Which is it?”

“Both! God, you make me crazy. I never know which direction you’re going to shove me in next.”

“I’m not shoving you anywhere.”

She slumped against him. “There must be something else I can give you.” Time was just too high a price to pay.

She shuddered as an icy hand clasped her nape and kneaded. He buried his face in her hair and murmured, “Am I so terrible?”

“Yes!”

“Today, you were happy.”

“That never lasts,” she whispered sadly. “Sometimes you’re considerate and decent, and other times, you’re Mr. Hyde. You switch on a dime. I never know who I’m dealing with.”

There was a suspicious hitch in her voice that made her close her eyes on a grimace. The hand on her nape moved up to her hair and gripped, tipping her head back. She didn’t fight him, but she kept her eyes closed. She wasn’t prepared for the kiss, light as a butterfly’s wing at the corner of her mouth.

“Stop,” she whispered, hands twisting in his shirt.

When his lips continued to cruise over her face, she ducked her head in defense of his tender onslaught.

“I’m not playing your game,” she said raggedly.

“Who else am I going to play with?”

The teasing note in his voice made her eyes prick with tears. She hadn’t seen this side of him since the earliest days of their affair. She didn’t like it. It made her feel things she shouldn’t, things she vowed she would never believe in again.

She opened her eyes and searched his face. For the second time that day, she murmured, “What’s gotten into you?”

He captured her mouth in a kiss that was commanding and all-consuming. When she was younger, she mistook chemistry for love. Now, she wasn’t so naive, but she was as helpless against the rush as she had been back then. Like the sunset, this was perfect. It always had been. People who didn’t believe in chemistry had never experienced its exhilarating madness. It changed her forever. Nothing measured up to this painful ecstasy. She gave up everything for it and was still impaling herself on its tip even though she knew it would ruin her. She was addicted to it, which is why she didn’t allow herself to see him after she walked out. She wasn’t sure she could resist him, even knowing how he felt about her. It was sick. She assumed she would find another man she was compatible with, but no one came close to the unadulterated madness Roth provoked with so little effort. It scared her—what they could become. It had been too much for her then. Would she fare better now?

He growled into her mouth, demanding more, and she gave it to him. She had no choice. What he wanted, she had in abundance… and what he had, she wanted more than she wanted her next breath. She hated and loved it with the same fervor. As if he sensed her clamoring needs, his fingers tightened in her hair, pulling deliciously, piling on more sensation so she felt dizzy. How could he be so attuned to her body and so oblivious to everything else? Her desires had evolved into something more twisted and dark as she explored her sexuality in her books, but she hadn’t found a man willing to indulge her kink in real life. Roth would, but at what cost? Would he use her desires against her? Of course, he would.

As the kiss intensified, she gripped his hair. If he was going to take his fill, why shouldn’t she? Why deny herself the chance to fulfill her desires before she went back to her fruitless search to find someone who was a pale imitation of him? There would be consequences, but it would be worth it.

“I’m hungry, princess,” he panted against her lips. “Starving. I have plans to explore those fetishes you write about and see if you can take it in real life.”

“Roth.”

Her voice trembled with need.

“I’m going to wipe every man from your memory.”

He already had. She couldn’t remember a single one.

His eyes flicked over her shoulder for a moment before a wolfish smile curved his mouth. She started to turn to see what he was looking at, but the grip in her hair kept her still as he bent his head again. This time, that hard edge was missing. He took his time, wiping her mind clean as he made love to her mouth.

It was easy to keep him at bay when he was being a dick, but how did she defend herself against this sweet affection that made her heart swell so big in her chest, she couldn’t breathe. This was the kiss fairytales were made of, that moment when heroines kicked up their foot or slid into a dead faint. He was resurrecting foolish dreams she swore she would never place on him again. Their chemistry burned too hot for foreplay. She’d always been grateful for that, but now, as he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world, she felt as if she was drowning. Sex was easy. This wasn’t.

When he pulled away, he watched the progress of a tear slide down her cheek.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered hoarsely.

“It seemed fitting.” He kissed her forehead. “We have company.”

She sniffled. “Who?”

When he jerked his chin, she turned. A man in a suit stood on the dirt path, hands in pockets, as he watched them. Her spirits soared.

---