Page 28 of Fury

His words send a shiver up my spine.

But he doesn’t know the entire truth.

If he did, he would know there is simply no way out.

“I ...”

I need to end this conversation, right now.

“I should go.”

Here I go, running again.

Pushing to my feet, he is forced to drop his hand. I place the beer down and turn, but he’s quicker than me. He steps in front of me, already smart enough to know that grabbing me suddenly isn’t something I’m a fan of. He’s smart, but mostly, he cares enough not to. That makes this so much harder, because Fury is giving me a glance of what a different man might be like, a man that is loving and strong, and it’s killing me little by little.

I want that, so desperately, and the more time I spend with him, the more I’m reminded of the bitter disappointment that it will never happen.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaky, “just let me go.”

“You came to me tonight,” he murmurs, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. It has me shivering with feelings that I’m struggling to control. “Why.”

It’s not a question, more a demand.

“I just ... I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough. Answer the question.”

“I don’t know, Fury,” I say, my voice high pitched and frantic. “What do you want from me?”

“Why, Alexis?” he pushes.

I throw my hands up, shaking my head from side to side as I take a step back. “Because you make me feel safe. Dammit, Fury, because you make me feel a little less scared in my miserable fucking life.”

He’s in front of me again in a second, his hand going up and curling around the back of my neck gently as he pulls me closer until our lips are so damned close I can taste him.

“Please don’t kiss me,” I whimper, my knees weak. “I’ll never be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” he growls, closing the gap.

His lips are soft to begin with, closing over mine and gently coaxing them open. His beard is scratchy against my cheeks, and I’m fully aware of every single inch of him that is touching me. From his hand around my neck, to the one on my lower back or the way his hard form presses against my soft one, every ridge like a chiseled statue. He smells of leather and beer, and that cologne that I will never stop thinking about.

I whimper, in my pathetic attempt at a protest, but he keeps coaxing, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip, just begging it to join in. His mouth is gently moving over mine, and I can’t fight it any longer. I respond, kissing him back with a hunger that I have kept hidden in the very depths of myself for so long. A hunger that is almost frantic as my fingers curl into his leather jacket in an attempt to bring him closer, kissing him with everything I have.

It's everything I could have ever needed and more.

He is everything I could have ever needed and more.

That’s why this is so dangerous.

That’s why I need to stop it right now.

This very instant.

It is my life on the line.

Pulling away, I press a hand over my mouth as horror washes over me. I just cheated. Granted, my husband is a psychopathic, narcissistic dick, but it doesn’t matter. I just did something I swore I would never do in my life. I’ve always promised myself I’d be this amazing woman when I married, that I would never stray, and even though I have valid reason, it doesn’t stop the guilt crushing my chest as reality washes over me.

“I swear to fuckin’ God,” Fury growls, “if you say that shouldn’t have happened or you feel bad, I’m goin’ to fuckin’ flip.”

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