He sat up and shifted, pulling me against him. “Did I crush you?”
I shook my head and avoided eye contact. “Just hot. I should get dressed.” I swung my legs around the side of the bed, but before I could stand, one large arm snaked around my waist and pulled me back down.
“No,” he growled, pinning me beneath him and dipping low to gently kiss me. “You think I’m letting you out of this bed?”
“Gus, I need to go.” I managed a firm tone, shocked when my voice didn’t tremble. I had the overwhelming urge to burst into tears, but I had to fight it.
His face fell.
“Please,” I said softly.
With a sigh, he rolled off me.
As I climbed out of bed and scooped my dress up off the floor, he lay in bed, naked and handsome, watching me, not letting me off the hook.
I turned to him. “Put some clothes on.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t have this conversation with”—I shook with frustration—“that here.”
With a smug smirk, he looked down at his cock, which was already hardening.
“You didn’t mind last night.”
I stomped into the massive walk-in closet and wrenched open one drawer after another until I found one filled with a neat stack of folded boxers. I threw them at his face and turned to look out at the mountains as he slid them on.
When he was covered up and standing, I inhaled deeply, shoring up my defenses. “This was a big mistake.”
“Which time?” he asked, his tone far too nonchalant after we had spent the night fucking like wild rabbits.
“All of them.”
“Nah. I disagree. By round three, we’d really found our groove. We can build on that. Take things up a notch.” He winked. The man fucking winked.
Why couldn’t he grasp what a terrible idea this had been?
“I’m not interested,” I said, keeping my tone firm even as bile rose in my throat. I had to be strong. “Thanks for helping me blow off some steam.”
Silently, he assessed me. In the morning light, he was so large and powerful. And when he crossed his big arms, I wanted to take it all back and jump into them. Close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of being truly protected from the world.
“It’s better to be up front and honest. I don’t even like you. You’re grumpy and stubborn and set in your ways. We’re different people, and the feelings that once existed are long dead and buried.”
His shoulders slumped, and the gentle grin he’d been wearing was replaced by his usual scowl. Good. I needed him to act like the grumpy asshole I knew he was. Not some irresistible, sleepy sex machine who doled out orgasms on command.
He watched me, silent and confused, as I headed out into the kitchen. Quickly, I found my purse and phone on the island, then headed for the door. Home. I needed to go home and figure out what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
But he wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily.
He followed me, calling my name, hell-bent on having a conversation. As if it was possible to discuss the insanity of last night.
“If this is about what happened between us—”
“Stop.” I held up my hand as I slipped my shoes on. “I don’t want to rehash the past, but just know that I can’t forgive you. I will never forgive you.”
I took a deep breath and continued on, making sure he’d understand. “This isn’t what I want. You’re not what I want.”
He was silent, his big blue eyes so full of hurt. And I knew I had to officially kill whatever this was dead.
“I’m on birth control, by the way,” I said, straightening my spine.
His only response was a nod.
“But now I’ll have to get tested. Who knows what you could have given me.”
His eyes widened, and he took half a step back, clearly shocked by the awful words I was spewing at him. But they did the trick. When he recovered, he stood to his full height, with hands fisted at his sides, radiating pure rage.
“I’m healthy,” he gritted out. “I’ll happily prove it to you.”
As guilt and shame washed through me, I turned away and stepped into the summer sunshine. Car. I needed to put one foot in front of the other and get in the damn car.
He followed me every step of the way, silently brooding.
As I climbed in, he held the door open, and when I was settled, he leaned in so close I was enveloped in the heady mix of pine and sandalwood. God, I hated myself for pouring salt on these old wounds. For hurting him. He didn’t deserve this. But it was the only way I could protect myself.
“You can leave,” he murmured, his voice so low his words were barely audible. “But you need to know that I never got over you. I don’t even want to anymore. You are magnificent and deserve everything.”
My heart thudded and my ears rang. I couldn’t hear this. Not right now. I was too vulnerable.
