“What are you doing?” he growls, his fingers flexing in my hair.
“Giving you the answer to the question you asked me a long time ago.”
Or at least it feels like it. That it was a long time ago. When in reality, probably only a couple of weeks have passed.
“What question?”
I rub my thumb in the hollows of his cheek and kiss him again.
I know he told me to not kiss him. He told me that he’s a nightmare for girls like me. A walking talking heartbreak.
But he doesn’t know that heartbreak is my friend.
That it’s been my friend for years now. Since the day I saw him in the kitchen. That fifteen-year-old boy has grown into this tormented, betrayed, dangerous man and I’m more in doomed love with him now than I was eight years ago.
Arrow doesn’t know that when your love is doomed, you’re not afraid of a little heartbreak. You walk with it. You dance with it. You breathe it in.
So I ignore his rule and gather the courage to place a soft kiss on his gorgeous, exceptionally soft lips. “You asked me if I’d be your rebound girl. So I’m telling you that yes, I will be. I’ll be that girl for you. The girl you come to, to fuck all your frustrations out. The girl who spreads her legs for you the moment she sees you’re jacked up and you need it.”
Chapter Fourteen
When I finish, I place one last kiss on his cheekbone.
It’s like kissing the sharp edge of a knife, that cheekbone. That jaw. I always knew it would be though.
I did.
What I didn’t know was what he would do when I did kiss him.
I didn’t know that he’d slowly straighten up. That he’d slowly, with deliberate movements, let go of my hair and that when he does, I’d actually miss his tight grip. I’d miss the leash of his fingers, feeling unbalanced.
“Arrow, what –”
My words cut off when he puts both his hands on my waist and picks me up like he did back in his office.
But tonight, there’s no desk where he can set me down.
Tonight, there’s only his body and he makes me climb it.
My arms go to his working and corded shoulders as he boosts me up and causes me to wind my thighs around his waist before moving.
Without taking his eyes off me, he begins to walk with me in his arms.
He doesn’t tell me where we are going and I don’t ask him about it either.
Mostly because I’m panting and I’m busy adjusting my body in his lap and feeling all his hard and corrugated muscles.
But also because strangely, I know.
I know where he’s taking me. And when my spine hits the wall, I’m proven correct.
We’re standing under my window.
His favorite spot.
“You want to be my rebound girl?” he asks when I’m settled between him and the wall.
“Yes,” I whisper, my hands sliding down from his shoulders to go to his chest and rub circles.
