I step closer to take up more space, to keep her attention on me, to force her to confront me and the emotions she doesn’t want to process.
My boots thud softly against the floor, each step deliberate, closing off her escape route inch by inch.
Her sharp gaze returns, and I want her even more.
I enjoy the way she fights with me too much.
That she doesn’t bend to my will immediately.
That when she’s cornered, she doesn’t back down.
Even though she ran from me.
I’ve got her cornered now. And she’s not going anywhere.
The air between us thickens with unspoken things.
“I was not rejecting you. Don’t mistake a punishment as rejection.”
A slow breath fills her lungs, expanding her chest, drawing me closer. Fuck, do I want to touch her.
I clench my hands and release them to soothe that ache.
“What gives you the right to punish me for behavior you don’t like?” Her voice cracks slightly with emotion, one she tries to tamp back down.
I honestly hadn’t thought it through when I did that. Other than the jealousy that tore through me at the sight of her teasing Gabe with that candy cane and my need to have my hands on her…I don’t have a good excuse.
A reaction to having my patience being tested. My authority. My claim on her.
“The decade or more of experience under my belt. Of reading people and situations. The fact that I know you enjoyed it. Every second of it until I stopped.” I lean in closer, taking her food container and setting it aside.
My fingers brush hers briefly; she jerks back like she’s been shocked. “I’ve been very clear about wanting you, so what makes you think I plan to do anything that will push you away instead of pushing you to know what you like, what you want?”
Because I want you to want me.
The way her breath shudders gives me hope, even though she doesn’t speak up.
“It’s about being dominant, not dominating.”
Now, her lip is between her teeth. Does she like the sound of being dominated?
Is she falling back into patterns she’s been stuck in before?
What did those men do to her to have her so hot and cold?
The thought tightens my chest. I want to rip the ghosts of those men out of her head and replace them with something steady, something real.
All the unanswered questions have me pushing her more than I intend.
But I want a genuine reaction out of her.
One that might put me out of my misery.
“Given your attraction to older men, it seems like the type of dynamic you’re searching for.”
Tipping her chair back, I close more of the gap between us, slowly invading her space, giving her nowhere to hide from me. My knee braces between hers to keep her where I want her.
Her fingertips lift to my chest. Pressing without pushing.
