Page 25 of Hostile Cravings
“Please.” The desperate plea in her voice stopped me. “Hate me, despise me, insult me, but don’t do this. We can’t.”
She was right. We couldn’t because it might fracture us and the fear that it would was enough to drown me.
“Why?” I wanted to hear her say it, to confirm that she felt the same way.
She swallowed. “Because it would shatter us, and then what would we be? I know what we are now, Tyson. But I don’t know what this would do to us.”
I took my hand from her hip, releasing her and rolling my neck. “Go take that fucking make-up off and I’ll take you to the beach.”
“I’m not taking it?—”
I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the bathroom, letting my anger overtake the jumble of emotions that were brewing like a deadly storm in me. Shoving her to the sink, I stood as a barrier to the door, my arms crossed.
“Wash the shit off, now.”
“You’re a prick.”
“That’s better, wench. Now take it off so I can see those damned freckles.” I’d slipped, trying to be an asshole and letting the reason come out.
She put her hands on the sink and looked at me in the mirror. My eyes ran the length of her body, thinking how perfectly her ass was sticking out, begging for me to take her by the hips and pound into her while I watched her fall apart in the mirror.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my eyes glued to her ass. As if she read the situation, she straightened up and turned the water on.
“You could have asked nicely,” she grumbled. “You don’t always have to be such an aggressive shithead.”
“I am an aggressive shithead. I thought you knew that.” I tore my eyes from her ass, trying to calm the pressure in my pants that had me aching.
“I do. You should leave, Tyson.” She was wiping her face down with a small cloth, the makeup stripped away with each swipe of her hand.
Turning my attention to her supplies that were scattered around the sink, I said, “No.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’d think with as hard as you are right now, you wouldn’t want to see me bend over again.”
I froze, peering over at her. She wore a playful, teasing smile before she turned the water on and bent over again. This time, she pushed her ass out further, leaning so close to the counter that it was protruding enticingly.
“You do that shit on purpose. Like you want my cock sinking into that.” She splashed water on her face, but stopped at my words. “How wet are you, baby?”
Shit, why had I asked that and why had the thought made me even harder?
“Wet enough to soak these bottoms,” she said without missing a beat before she returned to washing her face.
I didn’t move, knowing I wouldn’t be able to walk if I tried. When had our nasty insults turned to flirty sexual banter?
“But we’re enemies,” she continued, lathering up her face. “And since you hate me, these soaked bottoms will stay soaked until another man satisfies me.”
She rinsed her face, then blotted it dry as my rage returned, the thought of another man reaping the benefits of what I’d sewn slashing through me like a rusty knife. I walked behind her, running my hand over her ass before pulling her flush against me. She let out a low moan as her back met the bulge in my pants. Myhands moved to her hips, then over the front of her bikini, noticing the smoothness underneath. Damn, she was smooth and my dick lurched. The corner of her mouth lifted into a sly grin until I dipped my finger under the material. Her body tensed, her eyes on mine.
“No man is going to take what’s mine,” I growled, my other hand running up her stomach.
“But I’m not yours, Tyson. We hate each other.” The raspy sound of her voice gave away her true emotions.
“You are mine. I told you, your father sold you off to me for protection. This may be a fake marriage, but make no mistake, you’re mine, Angie, and I will tear down any man who touches what’s mine.”
Her head dropped to my shoulder, and I slipped my finger lower, sinking into her wetness and knowing I’d just pushed us to a breaking point.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked against her ear.
“Do you want to stop?” she countered, her hand wrapping around my head, her fingers threading through my hair.
