Page 58 of Tangled Vows

“Let’s get one thing straight—I don’t want you because I’m desperate,” he began, his eyes blazing. “And there’s been nothing fucking easy about you,” he continued, and the corner of his mouth twitched as though he enjoyed our verbal sparring. “And lastly, you’re my wife. There isn’t a chance in hell I’d allow another woman to fulfill my needs, much less touch me. You’re the only one I want.” I searched his gaze for any signs of deception, but there weren’t any there, only sincerity.

“I don’t understand,” I said, fighting the urge to give in to him. I knew what I heard that day outside the weight room. “I thought I disgusted you.” He drew back as though I’d struck him, confusion and hurt swimming in his hazel eyes. Stunned, he loosened his grip enough for me to wiggle free.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” he asked, a line forming between his brows.

“I heard what you said that day,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I ran into you in the weight room,” I added, and his gaze bounced between my wide, glistening eyes as though searching for my meaning. He clearly didn’t remember what he’d said, so I would refresh his memory. “I was standing outside the room when Maxwell started talking about me.” His furrowed brow lifted in recognition. He was starting to remember. Funny, that moment meant so little to him, he didn’t even recall it happening, but it was forever seared into my memory. “Disgusting. That’s what you said. You were disgustedby me.” The tears I’d been holding at bay began to slip out, and I swiped at them angrily.

“Oh, baby, no,” Easton said and closed the distance between us. His hands came up to cup my face, and he brushed his thumbs across my cheeks to wipe away the tears that refused to stop coming. “Th-that’s not what I meant.”

“You said Maxwell was disgusting for wanting me,” I sobbed out my accusation.

“I said Maxwell was disgusting because of how he was talking about you, not for wanting to be with you. He was being crude and disrespectful, and I couldn’t stand hearing him objectify you like that.”

“What?” I breathed out, my heart galloping in my chest.

“I’m guessing you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation?” I shook my head.

“Not after you said you’d never sleep with me.”

“No, I said I didn’t want to hit it and quit it. There’s a difference,” he declared, his voice full of resolve. “I knew that once I had a taste, I’d never want to quit you. I knew I’d want to keep coming back for more.” My head spun, and I reeled from this revelation. But that still didn’t explain his reaction to me that first night.

Gripping his wrists, I pulled his hands away and stepped out of his hold. “What about the night we met?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What about it?”

“You acted like you couldn’t bear the sight of me without my shirt on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you,” I began, poking a finger into his chest, “looking at me like the mere sight of my half-naked body caused you physical pain.” He blinked at me in confusion likeI’d imagined the whole exchange. “You couldn’t even look at me when you kicked me out of your hotel room.”

He scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face and released a long breath. Then his pained gaze met mine, and I knew what he said next would flip my world upside down.

42

EASTON

“Do you remember me getting a phone call that night?” I asked, and she nodded. “It wasn’t good news, and I was upset. I had to make you leave, and it pained me to see you go,” I explained, wishing I’d handled things differently. “I wanted so badly to see what was hidden beneath the rest of your clothes, and I was furious I wouldn’t have the pleasure of touching every inch of your bare skin.”

“So you never thought I was—” she began, then shook her head and heaved a deep breath. Attempting to break the tension, I filled in the blank with my own adjectives.

“Sexy. Perfect. Irresistible. Yes, I thought all those things.” She laughed, and it eased some of the pressure in my chest, the sound like music to my ears. “I thought,” I continued as I pushed a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear, “that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” Cupping her cheek, I brought my lips to hers in a tender kiss. “I thought you had the most incredible feminine curves, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them.”

“I-I had no idea. I thought my less than perfect body repulsed you. I’ve seen that look on a man’s face before.” Her voicecracked, and she crossed her arms over her middle protectively. I could easily guess who she was referring to, that ex who thought it was okay to comment on her weight. Clearly he was a boy, one who didn’t know how to appreciate a woman’s body. I was a man, and I would enjoy every single one of her curves. I tilted her face up, and her glassy eyes met mine.

“I can’t believe all this time you thought I didn’t crave you as desperately as my next breath,” I said, brushing my thumb over her full bottom lip. It was all my fault she felt that way. I should’ve been honest with her from the beginning, instead of playing games and pretending like she wasn’t everything I never knew I wanted. Her eyes flared, and her breath caught as I tugged her to me. “And to think, we could've been doing this, this whole time.”

I lowered my mouth to hers and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered open when I pulled back, and her gaze searched mine.

“I-I didn’t think—” she began, but couldn’t find the right words.

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Now we get to make up for lost time.” I slid my fingers into the hair at her nape and pulled her to me, kissing her hard. I was ready to finally claim her, and for the first time since the night we met, she was finally willing to let me.

“Not here,” she breathed and glanced around nervously. At least she had enough wits about her to realize anyone could walk in and catch us. Without another word, I scooped her up and cradled her against me. She wrapped her legs around my waist and gripped my shoulders to steady herself. I carried her to our room, my heart racing in my chest, and closed the door behind us before settling her on the bed. She leaned back on her hands and watched as I tore my shirt over my head. I leaned down to kiss her again, my hand sliding into her hair and tugging gently, angling her head perfectly for my invasion.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I confessed, my voice low and husky. Ireached for her shirt and began to loosen the remaining buttons. My hands shook with impatience as I struggled to push them through the opening.

“Fuck it.” I fisted the material on each side of her chest and tore her shirt open. She gasped as buttons flew in every direction, pinging off the walls, the floor, the nightstand. The act was desperate and feral, but I didn’t care. I wanted her more than anything I’d ever wanted in my whole life.

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