Page 91 of The Arrogant's Redemption

Do I love her?

No, I’m not capable of love.

The second I think it, I know I’m lying. What else could you call the feeling that exploded inside me the moment I held my son for the first time?

And what about his mother—the woman who’s never left my thoughts? The one whose memory kept me from touching another, no matter how badly I missed sex these past two years, because none of them were her?

Love? Is that what never let me forget her?

With a low growl—one I know comes from me because Alexis stays silent like prey frozen in front of a predator—I crash my mouth down on hers in a furious kiss.

At first, there’s a lot of anger in it. I still haven’t forgiven her for keeping my son a secret. But when she welcomes me instead of pushing me away—grabbing the lapels of my blazer just like she used to when I was inside her, unwilling to let me go—I lose myself.

I feel my heart pounding, my brain shutting down. I’m like an animal whose sole purpose is to recognize and claim his mate.

There’s no tenderness, no restraint—only hunger and desperation, like a dam bursting after being held back for too long.

When we finally pull apart and Alexis opens her eyes, I see the same confusion there that’s raging inside me—and it calms me somehow, knowing we jumped into this abyss together.

"I forgive you for hiding my son from me," I say, and I know I’m not just saying it to ease her guilt. I mean it. "I tried to hate you—but I can’t."

"I don’t want to trust you again, LJ."

"You want me."

"Wanting isn’t the same as trusting. I’m still really hurt."

Instead of arguing, I pick her up and leave the kitchen. I’m not surprised that Marla is nowhere in sight. I suspect the grandmother of my son is on my side in this.

"Where are we going?"

"You can’t stand for long yet. And we need to talk."

I choose a guest bedroom instead of the one she’s been using and close the door behind us. I sit down with her still in my arms.

"I’m not made of glass. You can put me down. It’s not proper to stay in your lap."

"Proper has never been our thing. Now stop reacting the way you think you should—and start doing what you want."

"I don’t know what I want right now."

"Liar. You want me."

"Physical reaction isn’t love."

"Physical attraction doesn’t last two years. What we have is passion."

"An overestimated chemical reaction."

I kiss her again. Just like in the kitchen, Alexis doesn’t resist, but this time, she’s the one who pulls away first.

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the chair, feeling certain I’m handling this all wrong.

If I gave in to my temper, I’d push harder, impose myself on her—but that’s not what I want. What caught my attention about Alexis from the very beginning was her unique spirit. I don’t want submission. I want to see the look she gave me that entire weekend at Morrison’s house.

"I want a chance to fix what I broke, Alexis."

"What?"

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