Page 27 of Bear
It just so happens that Duke’s greatest weakness, the thing I can use to taunt him… is me.
“I’m not leaving you like this to mope around all fucking night and day until another anniversary of Juliette’s death has passed and you finally become human again.”
He glares at me, his entire body stiffening. “I mean it, Mason. Leave, right the fuck now.”
“Or what, D?” I narrow my gaze on him, purposefully letting it slip down his body. “You scared of what might happen if you let me stay?”
His eyes flash. “The only thing that’s gonna happen is me laying you out, now fuck off.”
“If memory serves, last time it was me who laid you out.” My thoughts crash backward in time to the night he ripped me from Lennon’s body, and we’d rolled around, pounding on each other. I’d really gone after him—both with my fists and with my words. I blink, noticing my comment has caused agitation to roll off him in waves.
He shakes his head, furious. “What are you trying to achieve by coming in here and getting all up in my head? You think getting in my space is gonna calm me down? If anything, you’re pissing me off even more.”
I slick my tongue over my bottom lip, curiosity blooming. “Why? What is it about me that crawls under your skin?”
Duke’s tormented eyes meet mine, confusion warring with something that looks an awful lot like flat-out need. He turns his back on me, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the strands. As I watch him, his broad back expands with the deep breaths he’s taking. Attempting to ignore my question, no doubt. His voice gritty and raw, he rasps, “Stop fucking pushing. The past should stay where it fucking belongs. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
If I could just make him see that he needs to sift through these emotions, accept them for what they are, then maybe he can move on. He says he wants to be alone and doesn’t want to dredge things up, but right now he appears to be very stuck in the past. “Yeah, is that why you’ve locked yourself in this room? Because you’renotin here, reliving the ghosts that haunt you? ’Cause from where I’m standing, the past is exactly where the fuck your head is at.”
“She was my girlfriend. I. Loved. Her,” he grits out.
Exhaling harshly, I plant my hands on my hips, watching as his back heaves with the labored breaths he’s taking. It fucking kills me to see him doing this to himself. “Nobody is saying otherwise, man. I know how you felt about her.” I throw both arms out from my sides in exasperation. “And fuck, I spend most my nights revisiting my childhood, but I’m not the one refusing to admit the past is what molded this future. Every piece of us is forged from the moments we’ve lived through, Duke. Every fucking moment. Even the ones you refuse to acknowledge.”
“It doesn’t mean we need to fucking talk it to death.” Duke whirls around, taking two fistfuls of my T-shirt, and in one violent move, he tears it practically right down the middle, then yanks me against him. Breath gusts unsteadily from between his lips.
I study his raging body from under hooded eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” he grits out. Without warning, he grasps the back of my neck with both hands, and his mouth slams into mine, all fire and fury and heat.
Fuck.My brain misfires as I hook my hands over his biceps and sink into the kiss. He doesn’t wait for permission, but forces his tongue into my mouth with deep, devastating licks. My head buzzes, full of memories of the last time Duke and I kissed. He’d been angry at the world. Trying like hell to get his mind off things. I’d brought a chick to his room, and we’d ended up fucking her—sharing her—but after she left, I hadn’t wanted to fucking leave him because I could still see it in his eyes. The sorrow. The regret. The anger he’d turned inward at himself.
That’d been the first anniversary of Juliette’s death. We’d both been drunk, one minute laying side by side, and the next… a furious, raging wildfire of passion.
But we aren’t drunk now, that’s for fucking sure. And I’m afraid all Duke has for me right now is unhinged hate. He continues to plunder my mouth with his wicked tongue, and it sets off all sorts of fireworks along my skin. I’m burning up. The feel of his hard body coming into contact with mine, his hot skin under my fingertips. The way he smells of pure, undiluted male with a hint of citrus aftershave.Fuck.
I let go of his arms in favor of sliding my palms over his rib cage, then trailing them along his upper back. I hold him firmly in the circle of my arms while he continues to assault my mouth. His kisses are brutal. Savage. Full of lust and a desire so profound, I have to wonder if this has been building and building for the last three years while he’s been in fucking denial over what happened between us.
“I don’t need you.” He gasps for air as he changes the angle of our kiss, his fingers rubbing over the hair at the back of my head, the pads of his thumbs sliding along my jaw. A desperate groan tears from his throat.
Likefuckhe doesn’t need me. I slide my hands down the firm planes of his back, roaming over sleek muscle, and rest them just above the waistband of his jeans. I swear to fuck, I’ve applied no pressure, but his dick is suddenly sliding along mine, sending a wave of desire crashing over me. I’d been ignoring the semi I’ve been sporting during our argument, but there’s no denying it now. I’m fucking hard for him, just like I have been a thousand times in the past.
I let out a ragged breath, my lips hovering just over his. Those blue eyes bore into mine, so intensely angry that it almost knocks me off my feet. There’s no way in hell this can be anything but his decision… but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to tempt the shit out of him, especially because he’s the one who initiated. Sliding my hands down to cup his toned, muscular ass, I bring our lower bodies flush.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I don’t fucking want you.” My heart beats erratically as his hands slip to my shoulders and he dives back in to take my mouth again.
I let him attack me with his searing kisses for several hot, lusty beats of my heart before wrenching my lips from his and looking at him from under my hooded eyes. “Your dick says otherwise.”
He snarls, then uses his lips and tongue and his teeth—everything in his goddamn arsenal—to drive me out of my mind. To punish me.
But I fucking like this kind of punishment, and my dick is so fucking hard in my pants, I let out a hiss every time his cock nudges mine.
He spins us, backing me toward his king-size bed, his hands grappling with the remains of my shirt until it’s lying in tatters on the floor. He nips along my jaw, practically growling as his tongue darts out to taste my skin.
The back of my legs bump into the side of the bed, and we pause there as he stares into my eyes, determination lighting his. He reaches between us, unbuttoning my jeans, and draws the zipper down slowly. I swear I feel each metal tooth release as the waistband of my jeans loosens. My cock is like an angry bull wanting to escape its isolation cell. “Are you still trying to say you don't want this?”
FIFTEEN
DUKE
