Page 133 of Cruel When He Smiles
A pause. Then a quick inhale, controlled but not calm. “Stop fucking ignoring me.”
I let the words hang there before I finally glance up. Tilting my head slightly, I let my gaze skim over him before meeting his eyes. “I thought you didn’t want a weakness.”
His jaw flexes, and his hands curl into fists. “Nate—”
“Say it.” I sit up slowly, dragging my fingertips along the armrest. “Say you need me. Tell me I’m not your fucking weakness.”
He freezes. I can see the calculation in his eyes, the awareness that I’m baiting him, that I’m holding the power now. He knows exactly what I’m doing, and I can almost hear his teeth grinding as he tries to decide whether to play or walk away.
But he stays, even though I can see the act of standing here and swallowing his pride is taking something out of him. He lowershimself to his haunches next to me, taking my hand in his and says, “I need you, Pup.”
The words settle between us, stretching out the silence. I watch the way he waits for my reaction, how his muscles stay tight like he’s bracing for what I’ll do next. It’s not just words. It’s a crack in the foundation he’s so carefully built.
Then I push off the couch and walk past him, not looking back to see his expression. I don’t stop walking, I don’t hesitate or check to see if he follows. I already know he will, even though he’s seconds away from snapping.
Now he knows what it feels like. He knows what it means to want something so fucking badly and have no control over whether or not he gets it.
I make my way upstairs, and when I push open my bedroom door and step inside, Liam is right behind me. I feel him there, just a breath away, his energy crackling in the air, thick and unsteady.
I step farther inside my room, hearing the door shut behind him. The soft click seals us in, trapping us together in this space where there’s no one else, no outside world, nothing but us.
I exhale slowly before finally turning to face him.
Nate
Liamdoesn’tlookawayfrom me as I sit on the bed cross-legged, place my phone on the nightstand, then give him my full attention.
He looks at me the way he does when he’s trying to calculate damage, like I’m not just a person but a sequence of wires he’s afraid to cut wrong. I don’t say anything at first because silence does more to him than my words ever could.
His shoulders are tense, hazel eyes narrowed enough that someone else might think he’s bored—but I know better. That’s him holding himself together, keeping the cracks from showing.
“Say what you need to say,” he finally murmurs.
I take my time, sitting back, stretching my arms over my knees before I speak. “I’m not going to make this easy for you.”
His mouth twitches, not quite a smile, but not anger either—just the flicker of someone bracing themselves. “When have you ever?”
“Don’t,” I warn, my tone low. “Don’t try to smooth this over with your usual bullshit. You’re not going to walk in here, say a few words, and get me back on your leash.”
The muscle in his jaw jumps again, and I can tell the instinct to push back is there, but he swallows it. “You’ve been avoiding me for days,” he says instead.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Because you earned it. You said I was a weakness and a distraction, Liam. Do you have any idea how that felt after everything you did when I was healing in your bed?”
He doesn’t answer, but his hands curl into loose fists at his sides.
“I’m not just here for you to spiral over when you’ve got nothing better to do,” I continue, my words are harsh, and I don’t soften them. “I’m not something you keep around to make your day interesting. I’m not just some shiny thing you put on the shelf until you feel like playing with it again.”
His brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt. I take that as permission to keep going, even though part of me can feel the way his control frays every time I press harder.
“You want to know why I haven’t left? Why I keep coming back, even after all the manipulation, all the mind games?” My voice drops, serious now, no venom left. “It’s not because of the sex. It’s not even about needing you to touch me. I’m not some addict for your attention.”
I pause, meeting his eyes dead-on. “I’m here because Ichoseyou, Liam. When you’re in control, the noise in my head finally stops. When you’ve got your hand on me, when you’re pushing me where you want me—I can breathe. Your dominance doesn’t turn me into a submissive—it resets the world. I don’t flinch when you call me baby. I don’t panic when you push, because for once I know what’s coming. You make sense when nothing else does.”
His eyes darken, but not with lust. He doesn’t move toward me, doesn’t try to touch me, but I can see the tension in him shift, like my words have lodged somewhere deep. For a moment, the only sound is the faint hum of the heater kicking on. He stays leaning against the door, his hands flexing like he’s working through the urge to cross the space between us.
“Nate,” he says finally, his tone quieter than I’ve ever heard it. “That’s not what I meant when I—”
“You’ve never been on the other end of hearing how disposable you are, so maybe you don’t know how much it fucks with you to hear it from someone you—” I stop myself, pulling in a sharp breath. “From someone you’ve let in as far as I’ve let you in.”
