Page 379 of Phobia
He quirked his brow.
My shoulders slumped under the weight of misogyny. “A girl like me can’t just move out of the house. The only way out is by marrying someone, or perhaps becoming a prostitute, but I’d say that I’m not nearly experienced enough to be alady of the night.” One night of hot bottle-fucking did not an expert make.
“Y’er my lady of the night.” His playful laugh sent my eyes rolling teasingly. “Why don’t yeh, though?”
My neck jutted backward. “Become a prostitute?” I thought I had been clear it was a joke but perhaps my timing was off?
“No, get married.”
I stood there, totally mute, for longer than a moment. What exactly was one supposed to say when your lover suggested that you marry another man?
“If it’s y’er ticket out, then yeh should get married.”
A ferocious snort exited my nostrils. “You’re serious?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Yes.”
I turned on my heel. Suddenly, it felt wrong that I was here with a guy who had had his tongue in places on my body that I hadn’t even seen myself while he suggested that I marry another man—sleep with another man. The suggestion infuriated me and made me feel like the village slut, easily passed around.
He yanked on my arm from behind, spinning me around to face him. “Why are yeh angry?”
I pulled my arm away and crossed both over my chest. “You don’t get it.” He was a man just like any other who thought women were for their pleasure only.
Bastien removed his hat and tossed it on the ground, then his hand moved to the back of his neck and rubbed deeply. “Obviously. It was just a suggestion.”
“Your suggestion made me feel insignificant...like I don’t matter to you.” I motioned to the air between us. “Like whatever this is between us is unimportant.”
His full lips twisted like my words weren’t making any sense.
“Fine,” I spat. “I’ll get married, and I’ll move far away and never come back.” If I was that disposable to him, then he wouldn’t have the privilege of seeing me ever again.
Bastien closed the distance between us. “Do it. Leave me, little songbird. I ain’t the type of man worth sticking around for.”
“What’s so wrong with you?” I didn’t understand why he was pushing me away, especially when our relationship was so new.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with me. I just ain’t right for yeh.”
My shoulders tensed. “You don’t know what’s right for me.” I felt like I was talking to my parents. They never understood me, and I had thought Bastien was different. But he was shuffling me around just like everyone else. I was just a place holder. A seat filler. A fun toy for him to fuck that he was already bored of.
I needed space, needed air to breathe. I hurried away from him as quickly as I could.
“Don’t walk away from me.” His bellowing voice disturbed the sleeping birds in the trees overhead, and their startled squawks echoed around me.
His oversized hand suddenly wrapped around my neck. I turned into his hold to face him.
A painful expression blanketed his face. His tone was more gentle, more somber. “Don’t get close to me. I’m no good for yeh.”
“You keep saying that, but you never explain.” My throat worked against his grip.
“Just trust me, songbird. Yeh should be marrying a nice pretty boy who’ll sex yeh missionary style to make li’l blonde and green-eyed babies just like they mama.” His words were laced with anger. The thought of marrying some spoiled man-brat of my parents’ choosing and being locked inside the house because of his spawn irritated Bastien as much as it grated my insides.
I braced my hand on his forearm, feeling the tense cords flex under my touch. “And what about you? What do you deserve?”
He let go of my throat. “This.” His arms stretched out over the waves of tombstones.Solitude. Darkness.And there was something else in his eyes that wasn’t as obvious—a loneliness that seemed to have existed for an eternity. I knew it all too well. We pushed people away because we deserved to be alone. We had more in common than Bastien even knew, and I wasn’t going to allow him to keep his guard up any longer.
I raked my gaze over his strong features, pinning my shoulders back. “Would you miss me?” I breathed out. “If I married another man, would you ever think of me?”
His palm pressed against my cheek, and the pad of his thumb ran along my bottom lip. “Songbird, I couldn’t shake y’er memory from these bones even if I tried.”
