Page 194 of Tall, Royal Hater
It was nearing ten by the time Shehryar and I left my family home with a couple of boxes of leftover food. We were both quiet as I unlocked my apartment door and headed in.
In the entranceway, I toed off my trainers and shucked my coat. Shehryar shut the door behind him as I plodded towards the kitchen, bag of food in hand. While he took his shoes and coat off, I emptied the bag into my fridge. Then I asked, “You want tea or coffee?”
“Neither,” he said, rounding the table. “You won’t sleep well if you have caffeine now.”
“Well, I need it.” I grabbed the kettle and took it to the sink to fill.
Although, I really shouldn’t have been having any. I was wide awake, my senses on high alert.
He circled his heavy trunk of an arm around my shoulders as his warm, wide body appeared behind me and pressed a firm kiss to my temple, weighing me into the crook of his arm. “What’s wrong?” he whispered against my hair, the prickle of his beard made my ear twitch and tingle. “You’ve seemed tense since after lunch.”
“I’m not tense,” I grumbled, shutting the tap. “I’m pissed.”
It wasn’t exactly that either, but I didn’t know how else to label the agitated energy doing zoomies through my veins. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to bounce off the walls in a screamfest or bounce on him until I’d exhausted myself. But I didn’t want to push him away, I just wanted to—to fight.
Not fight. I wanted the push and pull between us. The in each other’s faces, the passionate heat, the banter, the ferocity, stubbornness, anger, jealousy.
I wanted old us.
And then I wanted new us immediately after. The kisses, soft touches, the vulnerability and tight hugs, the baths together, and all the heartfelt looks and actions and words. All of it.
But the balance was all off right now, and my emotions were going recklessly askew.
“Pissed about what?” I could hear the frown in his deep voice.
I tried to shake out of his hold, but his arm was locked in place. “About this. Aboutyou. About the whole fucking situation.” His grip loosened. I set the kettle down and jerked out from between the countertop and him, needing space to think properly.
There was a steady intensity to his gaze, but his fingers shifted restlessly by his side once I’d put the dining table between us.“I’m sorry, Mariyah,” he said, his voice deep and earnest. “I’d take it back in a heartbeat if I could.”
“But you can’t,” I accused.
“I can’t,” he agreed and took a tentative step to the side of the table. I took a replying step back, and he halted. “But I can make it up to you and show you I’ll never intentionally hurt you again. Ever.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you? Just like that?”
He shook his head. “Not just like that. Not until you’re sure you believe me.”
He was saying all the right things. And I wanted to jump him. Sexually and not sexually.
Gritting my teeth, I turned away and paced right, then left, and again, and kept pacing. I screeched to an abrupt stop, sure that every checkbox was ticked to confirm I’d made up my mind.
I pointed a manicured nail at my dickhead of a boyfriend. “If youeverinsult me like that again or turn your anger at someone else on me, I swear, Shehryar Timur, I will rip your balls off, steam them like dumplings, and make you eat them. Do you fucking understand?”
For a second, his gaze went blank and still. But just as quickly, his whole body relaxed, and a slow, comprehending smile lifted one corner of his mouth higher and higher. “I understand,” he said and rounded the table with swaggering steps.
“No,” I snapped, putting a hand up, but my heart was echoing the delight on his face. “Stop right there. I’m not done yet.” He stopped but kept taking little shuffling movements towards me. “Shehryar.”
“Don’t make me stay away,” he rasped, sounding somewhere between playful and needy. “If you’re forgiving me, don’t make me keep my distance. These last three weeks have been agony enough.Please, little menace.”
A moan clambered up my throat as a hot, sharp zing rippled through my belly.
Fucking Neves, I’d forgotten how deadly of a weapon Shehryar’s pleading was against my stubbornness. It made me want to stroke his hair while he sat pretty and flushed on his knees.
Mariyah! Focus!
I shook the gorgeous image out of my head and glared—or rather tried to. “You can wait five minutes while I—”
“I can’t.” He edged closer, his eyes bright Venus fly traps, radiating a sticky heat that pawed at my tingling skin. “I can’t, Mariyah. Please. I’m begging you.”
