Page 35 of Say I'm Yours
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel this, sweetheart. I know you do.”
His blue eyes stare into mine as he enters me. I don’t know if it’s the last few weeks of being alone or if it’s because I’ve ached for him, but tears form the second he’s buried to the hilt.
I’m overcome with so many conflicting emotions.
I hate myself for being weak.
I love that he’s here.
I hate him for making me love him.
I love how well we fit together.
I want to slap him for causing me pain.
More than anything, I want to cry.
Tears stream down my face as he starts to move. Trent doesn’t say a word. He wipes them away as they continue to fall. I feel everything pass between us. There’s no denying the intensity of this moment.
Trent makes love to me while my heart splinters into a thousand tiny shards. Each thrust cuts me a little deeper. I feel all that he wants me to, but most of all, I feel fear. Fear that I won’t be able to keep him at arm’s length anymore, that the excuse of loneliness will become much more. If I give him this once again, history will repeat itself. Our track record isn’t the best, and he’s still yet to say the words to me.
“Gracie.” He forces me to open my eyes again. “I’m close.”
His hand finds my clit again and he starts to rub circles. My body, in all its turmoil, starts to respond. He kisses me, touches me, and I let myself free of everything. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails in as my toes start to curl. “God! Yes! Trent!” I yell as white-hot pleasure tears through me.
His orgasm follows shortly after, leaving us both slick with sweat and breathing heavy. As the pulses of pleasure fade, spikes of panic take their place. Unaware of the war that’s waging inside me, Trent shifts his weight and gives me enough room to scoot off the bed. I need space, a door between Trent and me, so I close myself in my bathroom and flip the lock. My heart firing a hail of pain and regret and longing and love.
I stare at myself in the mirror and fight back the tears. What the hell did I just do? How could I sleep with him? I was over him. I was working on it at least, and then I give in? There’s seriously something wrong with me. We’ll never stop making the same mistakes.
My hands grip the counter, and my head falls. I truly don’t know how we went from yelling at each other, his circumventing telling me how he feels, to us having sex.
I’m a stupid idiot.
A weak, stupid idiot.
I slap the counter and sink to the floor.
Well, now what? I can’t go back out there. I can’t face him because clearly I have no rational thinking when it comes to him.
“Grace?” Trent knocks on the door. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” My voice is shaky, and there’s no way he’ll fall for it.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly from the other side of the door.
Oh, just lost my dignity and sanity. Nothing new.
“Please go. I’m not feeling so good.” I try for the only excuse I have: hangover. “I don’t think the wine is agreeing with me.”
Trent doesn’t say anything and hope blooms that maybe he’ll believe me. “You were fine a minute ago.”
“I’m feelin’ a bit nauseous.”And I can’t look you in the eye.
Trent clears his throat and tries to open the door. “I have to meet my father and brothers for that fishing trip, I don’t want to leave you if you’re sick. Plus, I think we should talk about what happened.”
I put my robe on and tie it tightly around me. He isn’t going to leave if I don’t face him. Plus, I doubt I’m getting away with anything here. He knows me well enough to tell when I’m lying.
I open the door to see him standing there fully dressed. “Hi,” I say sheepishly.
