“You can leave.” I glowered at him and strode inside.
I bent down to tug off my shoes, whirling and almost falling when I heard the door shut behind me.
Caine stood watching me.
“You can leave,” I repeated
He just stared at me in that intense, overwhelming way of his.
“What?” I snapped. “What now?”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you tonight,” he said, and for some reason his apology only fanned the flames of my anger. “You don’t deserve that.”
Whether it was the alcohol or a buildup of tension from the past few weeks of ignoring our chemistry, my self-control slipped. The hurt and fury just exploded out of me. “You know what? You’re right. I deserve better. I’ve deserved better my whole life, but I never got it. Neither did my mother.” I let all my pain blaze out at him and he stood there, frozen by my words. “But my mom refused to ask for better. I won’t make that same mistake.
“From the moment my father told me what he did to your mom, to your family, I cut him out of my life.” I watched how this information made Caine’s eyes glitter, arrested on my face. “I used to think he was some kind of hero,” I whispered. “Some kind of fairy-tale prince who came around on my birthday and showered me with gifts and made my mom really happy. Then suddenly he was there all the time. I thought he’d finally come to save us. And I kept thinking of him like that until I was a teenager, until I was old enough to see how spoiled and lazy and entitled he was. How he made my mom cry more than he made her laugh. But I pretended.” I gave a huff of bitter laughter as I remembered the way I’d stuck my head in the sand.
“I kept pretending right up until seven years ago when he confessed his sins. I hated him for what he did to your mother. I hated him for lying to me all those years, for having a family I knew nothing about, for coming to us because we were all he had left, his only recourse. I left home. But I couldn’t let it go until I knew everything. So I went back and I asked my father your mother’s name, your name, but he wouldn’t tell me. I decided I didn’t need to know your name. I just needed my father to apologize to you, to prove he really was remorseful and that whatever he was going through wasn’t just about him, but about the people he hurt. But he refused. So I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him ever again, and I never went back.
“I lost my mom because of him. She refused to walk away from him and she blamed me for the rift. Now I can’t fix the relationship I helped break, because she’s dead, she’s gone … And all I’ve got left in this world is a grandfather who’s too ashamed to acknowledge me and a boss who gets a kick out of treating me like shit.” My voice hardened. “Well, no more. I am done with this game. Because I am not my father and I would never hurt people the way he did. I wanted you to see that. I wanted you to see me. To see … to see that I get it. I’ve never deserved your contempt. And I won’t put up with it anymore.” I gestured, weary of it all, to the door. “Just get out, Caine.”
I was too angry to see the change in his expression, to hear the softness when he said my name.
“Caine, get out.”
“Lexie, I never knew any of that.”
“Because you never bothered to ask!” I yelled. “And now it doesn’t matter. When we get back to Boston, I’m done. Screw the two weeks. This is over now.” I whipped around, walking away from him toward the bathroom, hoping by the time I got out of there he’d be gone.
But I didn’t even make it inside.
I heard the quick footsteps behind me seconds before I was yanked around and crushed against him.
He whispered my name before his head dipped and his lips came down on mine.
CHAPTER 13
I kissed him back.
The truth was, even when he pissed me off I wanted him.
And that made me even angrier.
My emotions fed into the kiss as I wound my arms around his neck and curled my fingers into his hair. Our tongues stroked in desperation as Caine felt the heat of my anger and caught fire.
His thumbs brushed against my cheeks, seeming to swipe invisible tear tracks away.
I pushed at his jacket and he dropped his arms so he could shrug out of it. We didn’t break the kiss, our mouths pulling at each other’s.
Caine started moving me back in the direction of the bed and our lips didn’t part until he lifted me and then dropped me on my back across the middle of the mattress.
I stared up at him, panting, my whole body aflame. He kept me trapped in his gaze as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt.
How could it be that a moment ago I was ready to walk away from this man for good, and now all I could think about was getting him inside me? “This is insane,” I whispered. “What are we doing?”
He tugged off his shirt and threw it behind him. He then immediately sought out the side zipper on my dress. “Taking what we both want.” He tugged the zipper down and I shivered.
“It doesn’t matter that I’m drunk?”
Caine smirked and took hold of the hem of my dress. Slowly he pushed it up past my thighs, up over my stomach, my breasts, and I raised my arms above my head so he could pull it off. His eyes devoured me, raking me over as I lay under him in my black lace bra and panties.
My gaze dropped to the thick arousal stretching the fabric of his pants.
When I looked up our eyes met.
“A minute ago you were just buzzed, not drunk,” he reminded me, amusement lacing the words.
I raised an eyebrow. “Buzzed or drunk, a gentleman wouldn’t take advantage.”
“Well, you’re in luck.” He grazed his knuckles over my stomach, his eyes following his fingers as they trailed along the edge of my underwear. My stomach rippled and his gaze went black with heat. “We both know I’m no gentleman.”
My nipples peaked against my bra at the dark arousal in his voice. “I thought I was out of your system.”
His hand flattened on my stomach and he smoothed it upward slowly, heading between my breasts. “And we both know that was a lie.” He unclipped the front clasp on my bra and eased it off.
The cool air rushed over my breasts and they swelled under his perusal. My breath hitched as he stroked them softly, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. Caine held my gaze as he gently, slowly, torturously teased my breasts. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I think I stopped breathing.
“I can’t stop thinking about being inside you.” He leaned over, his erection pushing insistently against my belly, and his lips whispered over mine, “It’s like heaven inside you.” His features were taut as he squeezed my breasts. “I almost want to punish you a little for making me feel like this.”
I sucked in air as I fought for some equilibrium. “And here I thought a woman couldn’t lead you around by your dick,” I attempted to tease him, but my words were hoarse with need.
He slid his body down, pushing my thighs open, and thrust his cock against me. I groaned, feeling a flush of heat move up my stomach from between my legs. “No woman can,” he maintained. “But you certainly have a habit of making me feel like a teenage boy peeping into the girls’ locker room.”