Page 43 of Tangled With the Wrong Guy
He stirred, and groaned.
‘Move,’ she hissed, wriggling until she was lying on her back. ‘Get that thing away from me.’
He lifted his free hand across her, stroked it down her arm and mumbled, ‘Sorry. You’re too sexy. All warm and cuddly.’
Cute Joel was back, it seemed.
‘Don’t start,’ she said. ‘We’re done with all that now.’
‘Are we?’ he said into her shoulder, his mouth hot on her skin. ‘Would you want me if I hadn’t unloaded on you? All my fuck-uppery, I mean, not just the vomit.’
She couldn’t help a smile. ‘I hate what you told me. I think you’re doing totally the wrong thing.’ She looked down at him. ‘Joel, listen to me.’
He grunted. ‘Do I have to?’
‘I have learned that calling off a wedding at the last minute pisses off an awful lot of people, wastes quite a bit of money and can break a heart. But self-sacrifice purely for the purpose of preventing an arranged marriage and pacifying a psycho brother isnotjustified. Not when there’s a law against that sort of thing, and people to help make sure it doesn’t happen.’
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘Those were very well-thought-out words for this hour of the day. Or night. What even is the time?’
‘The only clock’s in the kitchen so I don’t know. My guess would be six, six-thirty?’
‘Chloe,’ he said, nuzzling her neck. ‘Can we rewind? To the part where you wanted me inside you?’
She went quiet. Things felt different. They were no longer in some magical, suspended-in-time moment. Joel had real issues going on, and she knew the truth of him now. He was full of grief and self-blame, as well as anger and bitterness towards his family. Very mixed up.
He opened his eyes and fixed them on hers.Oof.Fuck’s sake. How could anyone’s eyes be so beautiful after a day and a night like that? Alcohol, lack of sleep … crying. His tousled fair hair only added to the whole little-boy-lost look.
‘Can we?’
‘Joel …’
‘Okay – can we rewind but also erase the part where I was a complete dick? I took all those bad feelings out on you. Shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.’
She searched his eyes, mostly to find out whether his words were genuine, but also because of the way it made her feel each time she stared into them.
Her heart squeezed at the sudden vulnerability in their depths.
He meant it.
Her resistance crumbled and the longing returned in a rush; it had only been paused, after all.
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this,’ she whispered, touching his face, ‘but I think I’d like that. We need to talk some more after, though.’
‘Whoop,’ he said, with a gut-melting smile. ‘That’s thebestnews. Pass the thing.’ He nodded at the bedside drawer. And after a quick rip with his teeth and some dextrous manoeuvring beneath the duvet – notthattired then – he rolled on top of her.‘Good morning, my lovely angel,’ he murmured, gently brushing her hair back from her face, then he kissed her deeply, gripping her shackled hand with his.
‘No preliminaries necessary,’ she breathed, wanting him probably more than she’d ever wanted anything, as he nudged her legs apart with his knee. But he moved his other hand down anyway, before laughing quietly and saying, ‘So I see,’ and then slipping – very easily – inside her.
‘Oh god,’ she gasped. ‘Joel …’
He brought his hand back up and held himself above her, moving slowly, gently, then harder, quickly speeding up. She stretched her free arm over her head, gripping the bedhead, arching herself towards him, and was soon at the point at which he’d left her, however many hours ago.
She wrapped her legs around him and let out a moan, wanting him deeper, wishing it would never stop.
‘Christ, Chloe,’ he said, ‘I don’t think I can …’
Pausing for a moment, he shifted so his weight was on hers, and slipped his free hand between her legs, and his finger tripped the detonator that finally set off the bomb. She sucked in a breath and came in a scorching, mind-blowing rush. The explosion reached into every cell; into every corner of her body and soul.
He gave one final thrust, holding himself deep inside her, and then let go with a loud groan.
