Page 37 of Never To Forever

“You should be more careful,” I say.

She looks up at me with a frown. “What?”

“You shouldn’t let random guys get so close to you. You can’t be sure what they’re intentions are.”

She comes to an immediate stop and turns to me with a scowl, her eyes flashing with anger.

“That’s none of your business,” she snaps. “I appreciate you stepping in when you did, but that doesn’t mean you get to criticize me and the way I interact with other men.”

“Well, you clearly weren’t thinking straight, letting that guy put his hands on you,” I growl.

She lets out a frustrated groan and continues storming down the sidewalk. I hurry after her, not ready to let this issue go.

“I was having fun,” she hisses. “It’s not my fault if that shithead ended up being a creep. I’m not responsible for his actions.”

“That just means you have to be more careful,” I insist. “Yeah, it’s not fair, I get that, but that’s why you have to be on your guard.”

“I don’t need a lecture, thanks.” She stomps harder and faster as she grows angrier. “You haven’t had any interest in what I do for weeks now. There’s no reason for you to pretend you care now.”

I furrow my brow, caught off guard by her sharp words. Is that what she thinks? That I don’t care? That couldn’t be further from the truth. All I’ve ever done regarding Marie is because I care about her.

Her house isn’t far from the bar, and we reach it a few minutes later. She climbs the three short steps to her porch, and I hurry to catch up before she can go inside.

“I’m just looking out for you,” I tell her, grabbing her hand to stop her from opening the door.

She jerks out of my grip as she whirls to face me. “I don’t need you to look out for me! I’m not your responsibility.”

I stare down at her, at a loss for words. Not my responsibility? I think of the promise I made Mom, and how hard I’ve been trying to keep it. How much I’ve had to fight to resist my desire for Marie. If I didn’t feel so fucking responsible for her, we wouldn’t be standing here, having this argument.

She’d be underneath me, naked and moaning in pleasure as I drive my cock into her again and again.

I clench my jaw and curl my hands into fists at my sides as frustration burns through me. I’ve been trying so hard to do what I thought was the right thing, but it’s only made her resent me. Despite my best intentions, I only ever seem to screw things up with her.

“Look, I can take care of myself,” she grumbles, waving her hand dismissively. “I don’t need you looking out for me.”

Now that pisses me off. It’s hard to say why, but hearing her say that she doesn’t need me makes me want to prove her wrong. She needs me… even if she doesn’t want to admit it. She needs me the same way I need her. I know how badly she wants me. There’s no way her desire has died off so quickly, and if she won’t let me protect her, then I’ll make damn sure I take care of her in other ways.

Closing the gap between us, I grab her waist and yank her against me. Her eyes go wide and she gasps, but I drop my lips to hers and kiss her before she can say a word. The kiss is hard and desperate. I press her up against her door and cup her face in one hand while my other keeps a firm hold of her waist. She grabs the front of my shirt and I expect her to push me away, but instead, she curls her fingers into the fabric and clings to me.

Our tongues tangle and I’m lost to the feel of her against me and the taste of her lips. Fuck, I missed this. I can’t deny it. She just feels so damn good… so right. This feels so natural and easy, especially compared to the effort it takes me to resist her. When I kiss her, nothing else seems to matter. It all fades into the background, and there’s only me and her.

I want more. I want to feel her soft skin against mine again. I want her body wrapped around mine as she moans and whimpers in my ear.

Glancing around to make sure there’s no one out on the street, I move the hand I have on her waist down to the skirt of her short dress, I grab it and yank it up so I can reach between her legs and touch her. When I drag my finger along her panties, she hisses in a breath and I growl. She’s already wet… her panties damp.

“Fuck, Marie,” I murmur against her lips. “You want me bad, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, not bothering to lie or play hard to get. “But you want me too.”

She reaches down and cups the growing bulge in the front of my pants. I grunt and grind myself against her palm, at the end of my control. Reaching around her, I grab hold of her doorknob. It’s time we took this inside…

Marie shoves me back and ducks under my arm, her hand covering her mouth. She rushes to the edge of her porch and leans over the railing. The next second, she starts vomiting into the bushes in front of the house.

Rushing to her side, I pull her hair back from her face to keep it out of her way. She continues to be sick for several moments until she’s dry heaving. Finally, she’s able to stop and leans against the railing as she catches her breath. Unsure what else to do, I rub her back and continue to keep her hair out of her face.

“Are you okay?” I ask gently.

Panting, she straightens and looks up at me. Her face is pale and her eyelids half-closed.

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