Page 71 of On Thin Ice

I shoved him again.

“Or have you already forgotten that I’m the onlymanwho’s ever made you beg for it? The only one who’s made you come so hard you couldn’t even fucking breathe.”

He caught my wrists before I could shove him again, his grip tight enough to hurt.

I didn’t care. I leaned in closer, breathing hard.

“You think someone else is gonna hold you down and fuck you the way you need? Think they’re gonna stuff you so full you can’t think straight?”

His breath stuttered. His grip tightened.

I smiled, feeling a surge of triumph coursing through me.

“Nah,” I whispered against his mouth. “I’m the only one who can do that for you.”

For a second, I thought he might crack. Thought he might grab me and kiss me and admit the truth we were both choking on.

Instead, he dropped my wrists like he’d been burned. “That’s enough.”

I stood there staring at him, practically hyperventilating and wondering how the fuck we’d gotten here.

Ethan took a step back. Then another. And then he turned and walked away.

I should’ve let him go, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.

“Right,” I said, my voice raw and shaking as I threw my last bit of pride onto the fucking fire. “Run away. It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

He froze halfway across the room.

“Pretend nothing’s wrong,” I pressed, bitter, unhinged laughter bubbling up from my chest. “Pretend you didn’t just ruineverything.”

Slowly, he turned to face me, and for the first time since he had walked in tonight, there was something defiant in his expression. He was pissed off—at me or the world, I didn’t know.

But that was good. I could work with anger.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

I stalked toward him again. “No? Enlighten me, then. Tell me what I’m missing. Tell me why it’s so fucking easy for you to pretend there isn’t something between us. That I’m nothing to you.”

“You think this iseasy?” he snapped, his voice cracking on the last word.

I didn’t back down. Couldn’t. I was too deep in my feelings. Logic and reason had ceded control, and now I was all messy, broken heartache.

“No, I think it’scowardly. I think you’re so fucking terrified of someone seeing you want me that you’d rather tear us apart before they’d ever get the chance.”

His hands fisted at his sides, and for one insane second, I thought he might hit me.

At this point, I’d welcome it. At least then I’d know he felt something for me—even if it was only hate.

“Fuck you,” he said hoarsely.

“Already did,” I said, smiling like I wasn’t breaking apart inside. “And you loved it.”

He flinched like I was the one who’d taken a swing instead.

Good. Let him hurt, too.

“You think I don’t know what this is?” I kept going, relentless, reckless. “You think I don’t know I’m just a convenient mouth and hole for you?”

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