Page 59 of Dream Girl Drama

“I don’t need saving. And I didn’t say I never wanted to talk to you againforever. I just meant, I don’t know... until next week, at least.”

He caught up with her at the door of the building, pressing his hand to the glass and nuzzling his mouth against her neck. “No. A week without you willfeellike forever, Chlo.”

Need slipped down the sides of her belly like hot oil. “What are we doing here, Sig? What are wedoing?”

Several heavy seconds passed while he acknowledged the meaning behind her words. They were trapped in this crazy cycle of not being together, while also being totally committed—but not having him in all ways was not a sustainable place to be.

Couldn’t he feel that?

Instead of answering Chloe’s question—what are we doing?—Sig let them into the vestibule, taking his own set of keys out of the pocket of his sweatpants and unlocking the main building. He appeared to be chewing on leather as he escorted her up the stairs, Pierre clicking happily in front of them, probably hoping there would be food provided once they were inside.

Somehow, though, Chloe knew something else was going to happen.

Maybe it was the rough set of Sig’s jaw.

Or the uneven sound of his breathing.

Whatever tipped her off, she still was not expecting to bepressed up against the door as soon as they were inside the apartment, pinned there by Sig’s body. She couldn’t explain what happened inside of her at that sudden, hard press of tense muscle and the blast of intention from the man who usually held back so stubbornly. But her nervous system started to clamor, her pulse rocketing to a thousand miles an hour, the world’s most telling moan sailing out of her mouth. Her fingers shook and snatched for an anchor, finding one in the thighs of his sweatpants, fisting in the soft material and pulling him closer.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, raggedly.

“Yes.”

“Good. Take what I’m not supposed to give you.” He vibrated with caged aggression, his need on a leash, but he was letting her have some of it and his erection elongating against her belly was like a feast after a famine. He raked his mouth up the side of her face, into her hair, and she almost dropped to the ground, it felt so divine. “Just don’t be angry with me,” he rasped. “I can’t stand it.”

Wait. She was angry with him?

Oh yeah.

Shewasangry with him.

“You aren’t in charge of my love life.”

“Iamyour love life, Chloe.”

A two-handed shove didn’t budge him an inch. “You’re not,” she said, frustration evident in her tone. “I want you to be, but you’re not. Youcan’t.” Saying these things out loud caused her throat to ache, but they had to be said out loud at some point, right? “Eventually we have to admit this relationship is unhealthy and just... just let it change.”

His head had been shaking the whole time. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You think we could feel like this with anyone else?”

“No,” she whispered, still drawing him closer, her neck lacking its usual strength and all because that part of him, so heavy and thick, was sandwiched between them. “But I want things you won’t give me.”

His head lifted, eyes burning into hers. God, she’d never seen him this way. No, he’d neverlether see him this way. So intense she was having trouble holding on to her thoughts. “Like what?”

Detailing the way she longed for physical contact felt wrong, because she’d only wanted that contact from him since the night they’d met. Saying that out loud wasn’t going to support her point, though, was it? Only hurt her argument that their obsessive relationship wasn’t serving either of them. “I want to be taken to dinner and kissed on my stoop afterward,” she blurted. “I want to be told I’m pretty and feel your—a man’s weight on top of me.”

Slowly, his brows knit together, as if she’d spoken in a completely different language. “You want to be told you’repretty?” He repinned her so hard against the door, the hinges rattled and she sobbed, not even bothering to try and get free, because she didn’t want to. His body against hers felt like being home for the first time in six months. “A man who calls you pretty, Chloe, is a fucking fool. You aren’t pretty, you’re brutally goddamn beautiful. You glow with life. You’re crazy. You have heart. You have love pouring out of you. You’re brilliant and creative. So gorgeous I’ve lost thousands of hours of sleep.” His mouth melded to hers in a messy rub of lips. “You have a body that demands someone spoil it often and fuck it twice as often. Pretty?” He shook his head. “I’d spit on a man for calling you pretty. You’re extraordinary. The first and last of your kind.”

“Sig.” Her throat felt heavy enough to drop into her stomachat any moment.Oh my God. Oh my God.Where had those words been hiding? Maybe their power is what she felt in her bones every time he looked at her. “How... I’m...”

“How many numbers do you have in your phone? For men.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“Too bad. How many?”

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