Unless I’m putting her there in preparation to fuck her.
She swings around, her blue eyes dark and threatening. It’s dick-twitching stuff.
“Say it again, Rose,” I order, prowling forward, my scar tingling. “Refuse me again.”
She answers with another swing, her frustration getting the better of her, and I catch her fist, wrapping my palm around it, forcing it down. “I fucking hate you,” she hisses, and then she’s on me, making the first move, lunging up and smashing our mouths together. I move her wrists to one of my hands, using the other to rip her bikini bottoms off, and then she’s up against the wall, her body colliding with it hard. Our kiss is manic. Our teeth clash, our tongues spar. Yes. I’ve missed this. Us. I shove her arms above her head and drop my spare hand to the apex of her thighs, driving three fingers into her ruthlessly. She’s mad and turned on. Also standard. “So fucking wet for me.” I move my mouth across her face, homing in on her neck, sucking her flesh hard, marking her. She cries out, part pleasure, part frustration as I go to her chest, biting at her nipples, then sweep my fingers wide within her. “Say no to me now, baby,” I order. “I dare you.”
She whimpers dejectedly, and I smile ruefully, withdrawing my fingers and plunging hard. She knows a no now will have me halting this. So she won’t say no. I return to her face, pushing my forehead to hers with a force she returns. My eyes on hers. My fingers massaging her. My grip of her wrists flexing. “Did you miss me?” I ask, slipping gently around her clit.
Her body subtly bows, her exhale shaky. “Fuck me, Danny,” she demands, and I smile. She wants to expel her anger. I’m here for it.
I withdraw and spin her, pushing her face into the plaster, taking her neck, getting my face close to hers as I yank my trousers open. Her cheek squished into the wall, she pants, her eyes pouring with want. I take hold of my dick, guiding it to her, and with the first dash of contact, I choke, Rose blinks slowly, and then her tongue leaves her mouth, licking away some of the blood on my face.
I groan, sinking into her, and she takes each inch with ease until she’s full to the hilt. I breath in, twitching, my legs fucking shaking. “Move your head away from the wall,” I order, giving her space to brace her palms against the paint. I take her hips, grind, and then watch my cock slip out of her, glistening, coated in her pleasure. “Fuck,” I breathe, my head falling back, my feet spreading. I snarl as I power forward, smashing into her callously. But she takes it like a pro. Always does, moaning and forcing her arse back, egging me on.
“Yes,” she says, and that’s all I want. The key word. I launch my attack and bang into her repeatedly, over and over, smash after smash, and she screams her satisfaction, meeting my drives. “Harder,” she yells.
She gets what she wants. My hips are out of control, the pleasure ransacking every inch of me, my gruff barks loud, my vision foggy. “You like that?” I yell, pounding on. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes!” She smashes her fist into the wall repeatedly, her head tossed back. “Danny!”
Her internal walls greedily squeeze, and blood surges to my head. We’re going to come. Urgency takes over as I thrust, dripping wet, pushing us to the edge. I bellow her name, crashing forward erratically, shooting my load on a choke. “Holy shit,” I cough, shaking the stars from my vision, falling forward. Her gasps are breathy, her body heaving, and I’m right there with her.
“Don’t say you’re going back to Miami,” she pants.
I close my eyes, turning my face into hers and kissing her damp cheek. “I’m going back,” I whisper, telling her what she already knows.
She’s silent for a few moments, and I brace myself, preparing for what comes next. She eventually breathes in deeply and wriggles from beneath me, and I hiss when my dick is unexpectedly pulled from the warmth of her pussy.
She walks away, and I sigh, putting my forearm on the wall and resting my head there, closing my eyes. “I don’t have a choice, Rose,” I call into my darkness.
“No, Danny, you have a choice,” she says, her voice getting quieter the closer she gets to the bathroom. “You’ve just made the wrong one.” The door slams, and I sag on a sigh.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, pushing myself up with some effort, not only physically spent, but mentally too. I fasten my trousers, turning to face the closed door. “Baby, I really don’t.”
The door flies open, and she appears, still bollock naked, but now wearing a face of fury. “Don’t talk to me about choices,” she yells. “I didn’t have any for years, so I damn well know the difference between being backed into a corner or going there yourself. You’ve put yourself in the fucking corner, Danny.”
She really does know how to say the right things to get my back up. “We don’t talk about that.”
“Today we do,” she hisses, her hands bracing on each side of the doorframe, getting comfortable, her stance threatening. “I spent years with no choices. Being beaten. Doing what I was told or paying the price.”
“Rose,” I warn lowly, my veins beginning to burn. She knows it kills me hearing this.
“Being raped.”
My nostrils flare. The vicious bitch. “Stop it.” Nothing quite sends me into orbit like getting a swift reminder of how despicably she was treated in the past. The evil she faced. Nothing.
“Did you have a choice when your stepfather bent you over and rammed his cock up your ass?”
“Rose!” I roar, seeing red.
Her chin lifts, her point made. “Don’t tell me we don’t have choices, Danny, because we went through hell alone and together to fight for them.”
“You want me to sit around here waiting for them to come kill me?”
“Who?” she yells.
“Fucking everyone, Rose! The whole fucking world. If one man knows I’m alive, all the fuckers who ever wanted me dead will be crawling out of the woodwork to make sure I really am in the ground this time. You want that?”
Her jaw rolls, her frame quaking. “I won’t let you go back. You’ll be walking into a battle zone.”
“But I’ll win the fucking war,” I say, and she screams, her frustration bursting out of her with force. She gets it. She doesn’t want to, but she gets it. I can’t sit here doing nothing. I’ve been blissfully dead for three years, but my time in paradise is up. I should never have trusted Spittle to keep my cover. I should have known the stupid fuck would fuck it up in one way or another. Greed is a nasty quality. But regardless, there are big fish moving in on my old town, and they won’t risk me coming back to claim it. The attempt on Brad’s life is the only proof I need, not to mention Kelly’s intel. Whether I like it or not, I’m being resurrected.
Rose stares at me, trembling. “Please,” she begs. It kills me seeing my warrior so exposed and desperate, knowing I’m the cause.
I shake my head, denying her. “We leave next week.” I turn and walk away, out of the firing line, but also because I can’t bear the distress on her face any longer. I take the handle of the door, set to go find some solace in a few Scotches, pull it open, and jump out of my fucking skin when something collides with the wall beside me, the crash deafening, glass spraying everywhere. “What the actual loving fuck, Rose?” I murmur, turning around, finding her heaving, her face red. I look down at the crystal glass bowl that weighs a fucking ton. Or did. It’s a lethal weapon, and my wife just threw it at my fucking head.