“Please leave.”
I took another step. She mirrored backward. Again and again until her back pressed against the bookcase. My abs pressed against her breasts, my thigh between her legs—a perfect fit. I gritted my teeth to dispel that thought. It had no place in my brain.
“Why?” I groused. My eyes ricocheted between hers. “Last night. You owe me an explanation.”
She jabbed her arms between us. “I don’t owe you any more than I’ve already given you.”
“Why seduce me? What did you hope to gain?”
She glared at me. “Is that what you think of me?”
“Tell me why.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? We fucked. That’s it. It wasn’t even that good.”
Wasn’t good? I grabbed her by the throat, pressing her into the shadowed alcove. She smelt of coffee and vanilla, no trace of that bodywash from last night, as if it hadn’t happened when I could still feel her. “Are you trying to make me angry?”
“Whatever you feel is nothing compared to how I felt last night.” She shoved us apart. “When you called me a whore. When I realized you didn’t know who I was. When you threw me out like yesterday’s trash. What do I care if you’re angry?”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“I got that.”
“Last night never would’ve happened if I’d known who you were.”
She gazed up at the ceiling, her breath catching, her eyes watery. “You’re such an asshole.”
Her anger made my lips stretch into a rare smile. Whether by letters or in person, she wore her heart on her sleeve.
“Tell me,” I taunted. “Do you often greet men like that?”
“Are you calling me a whore again?”
“You were mine last night.” My fingers soothed their way down her throat. So soft. So vulnerable. I gripped it. My fingers perfectly fit around it, like they belonged, like she was mine. “Are you sore?”
“Why would I be?”
“You bled.” Her face tensed. “Did I fuck you too hard?”
“You don’t have to be so crude.”
My hand tightened around her throat, forcing her head back.
“You’re not who I thought you were,” she said.
“I’ve never hidden who I was from you. Every word I wrote was true.” I shouldn’t enjoy the way her throat bobbed in my hand with every hitch of her breath, but that was the problem. I did. Very much. “You know me best.”
“No.” She twisted aside and slipped out of my grasp. “I obviously don’t.”
“Is this because you want more?” My hands caged her on both sides, our faces inches apart. I couldn’t help this need to be close to her.
“I want nothing from you.”
“I think you do.” My hand caressed over her waist and down to her hip. She slapped at it. Good, she had claws.
“I don’t care what you think.”
I sighed. “I think you’re not seeing the bigger picture.”
