“No, I don’t.” He stood tall, a heavy weight crushing him even while he grew angry. “I don’t owe you anything. All of this was a big mistake. The past was a mistake. Working with you...fuck.” His clipped delivery broke, his eyes flashing at the door. “Please, Olin, I’m so fucking sick of asking. Don’t keep making me repeat myself. I need you to leave and never step foot in here again. It’s better if you forget you ever knew me and move the fuck on.”
His words stung like wasps.
Before I could retaliate, he added, “Besides, why do you think I actually had a reason you would accept? A reason I could give you that would absolve what I did?” His gaze glowed with misery—deep, deep, endless misery, but he slammed shutters over his unexplainable sadness and embraced calculated, withering rage instead. “I didn’t need a reason to break off a teenage fling. I owe you nothing. We meant nothing.” His body leaned into mine, bringing frost and snow. “You meant nothing.”
I swayed, banging against the roller door again. He had me trapped. It was up to him to let me go, yet he didn’t move aside. Didn’t look away. Didn’t stop his hand landing on the door by my ear, clanging with a heavy bell of disgust and dismay. “Stop asking questions I can’t answer. Stop looking at me as if I’m responsible for destroying your life. Stop making me fight with—”
“I don’t play games, Gil.” I pushed off the door, shoving him back. “I’m not here to throw insults or act as if things that I know meant something were meaningless. If you knew me at all in high-school, you’d know I have no patience for cruelty.”
Sucking in a breath, I reached out and cupped his cheek. “Besides, I don’t believe you.”
He reared back, a guttural noise falling from his lips.
My fingers seared from touching him. My heart cried for the way he reacted.
I dropped my hand. “I tried to have an honest, adult conversation with you, and you tried shaming it with lies.” I shook my head, disappointed and distraught that the boy I’d never gotten over had turned into such a short-tempered, unbreakable male. “I’ll go. I won’t annoy you with my presence anymore. You’re not telling me the truth, but I’ve got the message. Don’t worry.”
I brushed past him, my spine tense and knees quaking. “You won.”
A swift hand shoved me back against the door; a palm splayed over my sternum, holding me in place against the musical metal. “I haven’t won. I never fucking won.”
“Let me go.”
“You act as if you’re the only one in pain here. You look at me as if it was all my fucking fault.” His hand burned me—not from heat but dry ice. His touch was worse than any brushstroke from before. Then, it had teased and reminded. Now, it sank past my ribs, deep into the chasm of me, and stabbed a heart that still had bruises. “You don’t get to judge me, Olin. You don’t get to judge what I do to protect—” His eyes snapped closed, his head twisting to the side.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
His eyes opened again, blackened with history and lost to whatever secrets he refused to share.
My heart skittered away, afraid of him. Afraid of the cavern of agony inside him. “Gil...”
“Goddammit, don’t.” His forehead crashed on mine, breathing hard. Our eyes locked, stare to stare, noses almost touching. His anger cracked, revealing a jagged splinter of fragile vulnerability.
I trembled.
How could a man who surrounded himself in barricades suddenly leave himself wide open for attack?
His gaze glittered with two opposing forces even as his throat worked as if swallowing pure rage.
But beneath the rage burned lust.
A lust that had only grown instead of diminished.
A lust that was an infectious, insidious disease.
I froze.
Breath vanished.
Time stood still.
“Goddamn you to hell.” His fingers slipped up my neck, holding me captive as his body pressed into me and his lips smashed painfully onto mine.
The second his mouth captured mine, all ethics, willpower, and rationale fled. Normal behaviour scurried like scared little mice as the claws of violence and desire snatched us both.
His fingers tightened on my neck at the same moment his tongue sliced through my lips, invading me, tasting me, taking the kiss he hadn’t taken in the past.
For a second, I was his to command. Totally pliable and shocked.
Then, I grew angry. Furious that he’d refused to take a kiss I’d welcomed years ago, but now, when there was no such offer, he snatched it from me so callously.
I bit him as he smothered me, his breath catching with a snarl.
“Let me have this.” He kissed me harder. “Before I can’t.”
I should teach him he couldn’t touch me without permission. I should knee him in the balls and hurt him as badly as he’d hurt me.
But his voice throbbed with pain. A pain that wasn’t flimsy or easily cured. A pain that brought tears to my eyes with its rawness.
Our attraction exploded.
Our togetherness ruptured.
It burned.
It ached.
It wanted.
Whatever connection he’d tried to deny, beat him into acceptance.
His lips opened wide; his tongue dove deep.
My bag slipped from my shoulder, smacking against the concrete floor as I rose in his arms, plastering myself against him, placing more of my throat into his control.
His groan was the headiest, sexiest thing I’d ever heard. Rich with longing and deadly with fury.
I opened my lips, inviting him to plunge and suffocate. I answered his groan with a moan that strangled my stomach.
My excuse was I was lonely. I’d always been lonely.
His excuse?
He’d lost.
Lost to me, to him, to us.
There is an us.
Reaching up, I tangled my fingers in the hair that’d fascinated me since finding him. Sinking to his scalp, I deliberately dug my nails into his skin as punishment.
He snarled, kissing me savagely.
I wasn’t prepared for the wave of aggression. He kissed me so hard our teeth clacked and tongues duelled. His taste was everywhere. Mint and sin and something that woke up long ago memories.
He was everywhere. All around me. In me.
I kissed him back, fast and wet, not caring about the hungry noises I made. Not embarrassed that I let myself go. This was the kiss he owed me. And if he wanted more than a kiss...I’d give it to him.
His answering growl sent kerosene licking across my flesh as he hoisted me off the floor and once again slammed me hard against the twanging metal door.
Instinct made me wrap my legs around his waist, trapping him as surely as he trapped me.
I shivered as his hips shot forward, thrusting against me, revealing he was no longer a boy but a fully-grown man with heat and hardness straining against his jeans.
“God, Gil...” I kissed him harder, faster, tongues and teeth and temper.
We were evenly matched in speed and lack of finesse, nipping and licking, sucking and plunging. I squirmed against his body to get closer, demanding, inviting.
I stopped thinking.
I didn’t wonder what caused this explosion.
I just accepted it because that was what my accident had taught me.
Any illusions of a future had been wiped away the moment I felt restaurant glass slice me to ribbons. All we had was now, this moment, this very precious second.