Page 60 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

We stare at each other.

“Do you know how infuriating you are?” he asks in a low voice.

The Theo driven by senseless need has vanished.

I narrow my eyes. “I imagine you’re about to tell me.”

“Do you know how much I want to kiss you without tasting blood on my tongue?” He grabs my jaw again, bringing me in close.

It’s a way to keep me from turning my head, from trying to kiss him again. The failed attempt burns brightly in my mind.

“It makes me so damn angry. You make me furious, because I can’t give you what you want. I certainly can’t give you what you deserve. But I can’t let you go, either.” He repeats the earlier action, his face so close to mine that his nose touches my temple.

“You did let me go,” I force out. “Or did you forget that part?”

He freezes. “Even if I had to stalk you from a distance, I still wouldn’t let you go. No matter what you thought.”

I push at him. “What, so you just messed with me?”

He raises an eyebrow, silently asking if that’s anything out of the ordinary. And actually, it isn’t. I usually see through his attempts to mess with me. His warfare strains between psychological and physical.

“You think you don’t deserve me,” I say quietly. “When the opposite is true. I don’t deserve you. Definitely don’t deserve love.”

He squints at me and rises, planting my butt on the edge of the tub. Once my feet are under me, he releases his hold on my waist and steps back. He adjusts himself, zipping his pants closed. One quick sweep of his hands and, besides the wet material, we’d never know what just happened between us.

And I can’t help but think that maybe that’s for the best.

“We’re stuck, then.” I stare at him, willing the opposite to be true. That this will be the turning point in our relationship.

But he just nods.

He strides away, then pauses. His hand is on the doorknob.

It’s like he forgot. For just a second, the car became less important than me.

“Where is it?” he finally asks.

I smile. I’m covered in his cum and drying water droplets. In the dim lighting, I can tell the front of his jeans are soaked from where I sat, the front of his shirt.

“Didn’t I give you what you wanted?”

The smile drops. “No.”

“Lux.”

I sigh. “It’s at the conservation’s public parking.” But no way am I telling him where I keep the spare key.

He’s silent. I’ve always admired that about him. That he and I can be so similar in some ways, and resoundingly different in others. He’s quiet while I’m loud. I have to be loud, or else the memories I keep suffocated in the back of my mind rear up.

And no one likes when that happens.

He looks like he might say something else. His mouth opens, then snaps closed again. Whatever thought is stamped out before it can see the light of day. In the end, he decides against it and leaves without another word.

I don’t move for a long time, and then I slip back into the tub. I let myself sink beneath the water and stare at the ceiling, and I stay like that until I can’t anymore.

19

Theo

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