Page 96 of Love Me

“You don’t have one.”

“True. It’s yours.”

Yeah, right.

He grinds his cock against my core which throbs with a need only he can soothe. I squirm, wanting more.

His finger brushes the side of my face. “What does this say about us, that we’re both a hot mess?”

It’s a sweet, sad moment. The air charges with a heavy tension, crackling with electricity. One spark and our passion would light up this planet.

His dick strains his jeans, and I am so wet I might drench the sheets.

He traces the pendant almost reverently. “Will you wear it?”

“Yes.”

“You should have always worn it.”

“Where is yours?”

Anger burns in his eyes. “I don’t fucking have it any longer.”

“You lost it?” I gasp.

He grips my wrist, his jaw tensing.

“And you ruined our place.”

“You have no fucking idea, Celine.”

“Because you won’t tell me.”

“Do you deserve to know?”

I wiggle under him, but the fight dies in me. He doesn’t care. What more evidence do I need?

“I don’t like that look.”

I roll to the side and say, “Please, leave.”

“Oh, even a please.” He tilts my head to the side and our eyes lock.

Palming my cheek, his thumb caresses me.

“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I am thinking about?”

“Because everything in me responds to everything in you.”

I look out the window. Sadness and loneliness cage me in––that’s nothing new. They’ve been my prison for years. I can’t escape it even when I am surrounded by people.

“I’m lonely too, Sky. And the only moments it feels bearable is when I am with you.”

“Fighting with me calms you?”

“I would do anything to make you feel better.”

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