He bent to kiss her; she could taste herself on his tongue as he took her mouth the way he had taken everything else: in a single violent sweep. His fingers laced more tightly with hers, and his heart was beating against his chest like it wanted to crawl right into her own.
“I always have been.”
Chapter Seventeen
???????
“You know you can’t force me to love you.”
Jay was wearing one of her old band tees from high school and these little terry cloth shorts, both worn and a little ratty. He knew she was doing it to show him how little all of this mattered to her, and he told himself he didn’t care. If she wanted to dress herself in rags like some sort of LA Cinderella, she could. All her clothes came off anyway when it was time to fuck.
He folded his arms behind his head and affected what he hoped was a look of careless disdain. “What are you talking about, Jay?”
“You might be able to blackmail me into having sex with you—but you can’t make me love you.” She slid off his bed, one long leg at a time, looking around his room with a dismissiveness that cut far more effectively than his own because she was so achingly lovely. “Maybe one day, when you’re on your third wife, you’ll understand why.”
Nicholas didn’t miss how she stumbled back from him when he stood up.Third wife.Was that what she fucking thought of him? Could shebethat clueless? “I don’t plan on getting married,” he lied. “And if I wanted forgiveness, I’d be in a church. But I’m not in a church, am I, Jay? And you know there’s only one place in this house where I like to kneel.”
She bristled so obviously in distaste that his anger spiked.
“What’s the matter, little bird? Your pussy’s too good for me now? You were happy enough to let me play with it when I was tongue-fucking you so hard you couldn’t breathe.”
“I hate you.”
“Show me.” He took a step closer and when she jumped away again, he told himself again that he didn’t care. Fear was better than love—his father said so. Being feared didn’t make you weak. But the way she was looking at him now scored him so deeply that he found himself thinking very briefly that if this was strength, he didn’t want to be strong. “Get on your knees and show me.”
The unhappy noise that she made was like a knife in his chest. She reached for the hem of her shirt and he felt the belated pang of conscience. “No, I don’t need that. Just your mouth.”
“You’re disgusting,” she said quietly.
He felt disgusting, in that moment. And for the first few seconds, as she knelt down and began to do what he was forcing her to do, he hated himself more than he had ever allowed himself to hate his father. But the hatred made it easier to let this go on, too. Because the more Jay ripped at his heart, the more he could tell himself thatthiswas what he wanted all along.
(you’re disgusting)
His eyes snapped open and he breathed in sharply, his heart keeping pace with the throbbing pulse in his neck. The dreams were receding, leaving behind a heaviness that had become as familiar as a lover. During those nine years that she’d been away, he had woken up hollow and gasping, holding nothing but empty air; and then the memories of what he’d done to drive her away burrowed like flechettes beneath his skin as the coolness of the sheets beside him salted the wounds of her loss.
What if there’s nothing?He thought wildly, his body already bracing itself for that familiar rejection and emptiness.What if she’s gone?
He rolled over and brushed something firm and warm.
It felt as if a pressurized catch inside his body had just been released.Oh, thank god.
Nicholas traced her lips, which parted under his thumb, before touching her cheeks, her nose, her throat—whatever he could reach, working his way down her body like a blind man struggling to remember. Then he gripped her hand until he thought her ring might draw blood.
“Nick? What are you doing?”
“Looking at you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re here.”
“Wow. Okay.” She laughed, drawing the covers up to her breasts as she rolled over to face him. There were lines around her bright eyes and slight brackets around the corners of her full, upturned mouth. They gave her beautiful face a comfortable, worn-in air that made looking at her feel like coming home. She looked at him warily. “Good morning to you, too.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I lived to excess and have regrets.” She looked at the empty champagne bottle, pressing her fingers to her temple. “You’re like the devil.”
“If am, it’s only because you were begging so sweetly for my corruption.”
