Page 36 of His Perfect Woman

“I don’t care what you want to hear, I don’t feel the same way about you,” she said adamantly.

“You didn’t want to feel the same way about me, but you did. It just took us falling into bed together for you to realize it. And you were no better at admitting it than I was. You said so yourself that you didn’t want things to stop between us.”

She flew up from the couch and across the room, trying to avoid my eyes. But I chased right after her, grabbing her by the arms. She stared back at me in defiance.

“Look at me. Just look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me, too. Then I’ll go.”

Those gleaming dark eyes of hers burned back into mine, filled with anger. She had never hated me more, but I knew she wouldn’t care so much if this wasn’t about her trying to deny her own feelings.

Our breathing grew heavy in the silence until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I crashed my mouth into hers, and we both fell back against the wall in a deep, fervent kiss. She was stiff and rigid at first, but gave into me and opened her mouth wide—inviting my tongue in to sweep across hers.

I kissed her like my life depended on it—trying to let every ounce of what I felt for her come through the rough and urgent motions of our bodies. Our lips and teeth marking and branding each other. Our hands exploring, grabbing up as much as we could. It was a delicious drug, and I hadn’t had anywhere near enough. The way she matched my determination told me everything I needed to know.

I was right. She loved me, too. Now the tables had turned and the only thing standing in our way was her own refusal to admit to her feelings.

But she was just as stubborn and defiant as ever. She bit into my bottom lip, prompting me to jump back and press into the sting with my fingers.

She was breathless and looked possessed, glaring back at me—her eyes daring me to keep going. She wanted me to ravage her, but I wasn’t going to.

“Not like this,” I told her. “That’s another thing we’ve wasted too much time doing—using sex to say everything we should be saying with words. You’re already mad at me for manipulating you. I’m not going to bed with you like this. Not until you admit how you feel.”

“You don’t think that’s manipulation? Not giving me what I want until I say what you want to hear?” she fumed.

“So you do want it?” I smirked. “Why don’t you ask yourself why? And it’s not just what I want to hear, it’s what you need to say. Right now, you’re being a hypocrite. Admit why you want it in the first place. ‘Cause news flash, Victoria—most people don’t find it so easy to fuck their best friend unless they actually feel something more for them.”

Her hand flew back, and for a second I thought she might slap me across the face. But she stopped herself.

“You have some nerve calling me a hypocrite,” she seethed.

“And you have some nerve trying to seduce me after you just told me everything was over,” I shot back.

“You’re the one who kissed me first.”

I spun around, dragging my hands through my hair. “Jesus, Vic, do you ever stop arguing!?”

“No, and neither do you! Why don’t you just do what I asked and leave!? You said what you had to say, now go!”

I narrowed my eyes at her, wishing we could just make out again. It’d be so easy to take her right then and there, letting our bodies take everything out on one another. But I was too afraid of what might happen after, that she’d still insist there was nothing between us...and I’d walk away empty-handed. If that was going to happen, I didn’t need to torture myself with another taste of her first.

“If you ever decide to admit to yourself how you really feel, let me know,” I huffed, heading for the door again. “I’m not going to give up on this. I’m not giving up on you...on us.”

“You don’t have to.” She crossed her arms. “I’m doing that for the both of us. You know, you may have been cheaper than a sperm donor, but you sure have made me pay the price in so many other ways.”

“Well, the only person making you pay a price now is yourself.” I slammed the door behind me, stopping in the hall for just a moment to catch my breath.

But this time I wasn’t going back. At least not until I figured out how to fix this.

I passed my car and driver parked in front of her building and stormed off down the sidewalk. I needed the walk to clear my head. The air was brisk and cutting, colder now than it had been the night we devoured each other in the gazebo over the lake. God, I wanted to relish that memory, but not if it meant we wouldn’t have the chance to make more.

I had never known a more infuriating woman in all my life. No one could make my blood boil the way she did. That’s how I knew I loved her and would for the rest of my life. She was the only one who could get under my skin like that.

And I wasn’t about to let her go without a fight. I was determined not to lose her and the baby, especially not after seeing that glimmer of doubt in her eyes—the one that told me she felt the same.

By the time I was back on my side of town, near my apartment building, I was more fired up than ever about making this right. My body was still burning from that last heated kiss and my blood was pumping with adrenaline.

That’s when I saw the papers in the newsstands featuring Victoria posing with Camille and Jada in the cake shop. They were smiling widely and Victoria was being crowned “the bride of the year.” I stared at her picture and could tell by the look on her face that this wasn’t just about some arrangement for her. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but a picture was worth a thousand words, and it told me everything she was refusing to say just to prove a point.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket, pulling me away from the newsstands. I pulled it out and answered, listening to Jack’s voice on the line.

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