Page 29 of Ridin' Free
He didn’t move—his arms folded across his chest; his feet crossed at his ankles. He merely looked down at me and said, “Gave you a week. It’s time to talk about it.”
I shook my head and offered him a shrug. “There’s nothin’ to talk about. You and me, we’re done,” I said, relieved to have finally put it out there.
“Bullshit, baby,” he muttered calmly.
“It’s like I told you—you’re wastin’ your time.”
“Funny you should say that,” he began, finally pushing himself straight. He unfolded his arms and reasoned, “You keep tellin’ me I’m wastin’ my time, but you keep givin’ me yours. Quit actin’ like this is one-sided.”
I reared my head back, caught off guard by what he said. “Twister?—”
“Who did it?” he interrupted, taking a step closer.
I craned my neck in order to glare up at him as I snapped, “Did what?”
“Who hurt you, baby? Who robbed you of the freedom to have your world rocked on your back?”
There was something about the way he said it—the tone of his voice, the look on his face, it triggered something inside of me Ididn’t even know existed, and I felt the burn of tears threatening directly behind my nose.
The urge to cry pissed me right the hell off.
“No,” I seethed, grabbing hold of my anger in an effort to ignore the way my lungs seemed to be collapsing under the weight of my demons and the devil within. “No, we’re not doing this. We’re not having this conversation. You need to leave.”
“Phoenix—”
It was my turn to take a step closer. Even though he had me by almost a foot, I jabbed my finger in his chest and declared, “Fucking you once was enough. Fucking you twice was a mistake. Third time was a fuckingwake-upcall. Now, get out of my way!”
He didn’t budge.
“I’m not a threat, and you know it. You feel it, too—the spark. The heat. Whatever this wild thing is between us, it’s real. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”
That burning sensation behind my nose intensified, and I did my damnedest to ignore it as I replied through gritted teeth, “You’rewrong.”
Before I could fully register what was happening, his hands were around my face—his hold gentler than I imagined him capable. Then I blinked, and his mouth was on mine—but his kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t gentle at all.
He pried my mouth open with his tongue and kissed me with a hunger that spoke directly to mine. Knowing this would be the last time, I couldn’t help it. I pressed myself up onto my tiptoes, tangled my tongue with his, and took every bit he had to offer. His affection seemed to chase away my demons. Soon, my inability to breathe had little to do with the past that would haunt me forever and everything to do with the Stallion swallowing me whole. Our kiss was wet and desperate and sloppy, and I felt my arousal begin to pool at my core as my sexpulsed with a longing I knew I’d never be able to satisfy. Not now. Not anymore.
Twister’s fingers moved away from my face, sliding into my hair. He kissed me deeper as he clenched my wavy mane into his fists. I did my best to memorize every second—every sensation—hoping to remember what it felt like to be kissed by a man who thought I was worth far more than I was.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.
Twister lifted his mouth away from mine and stared down at me as we both worked to catch our breath. I felt his grip tighten in my hair a second before he let me go. I didn’t realize an unauthorized tear had escaped until Twister brushed it away with a single bent knuckle.
“Like I said. Bullshit,” he muttered.
With no further argument, he then turned and walked away.
I merely stood there, staring after his retreating figure.
It was as if he’d poured concrete around my feet.
Much as I wanted to run, I couldn’t move.
It had been years since my need to flee blared like a warning in my head. It was so familiar a feeling, it seemed impossible I’d nearly forgotten the pain of it. The shock of remembrance was overwhelming.
Steel Mustang was the best gig I’d ever had. It earned me a livelihood I had no desire to give up. More than that, it gave me the freedom to make a home for myself. Someplace safe. Someplace sacred. Someplace that was mine. I’d worked too hard, and I’d endured too much to let one mistake drive me away before my time.
Yet, it couldn’t be denied, Twister had been one colossal mistake that made everything feel unbalanced. Unstable. He made me question myself in ways I hadn’t in a long time.
