Page 30 of Endurance
“And what’s that?” I roar, nearly boiling over the fact that she used the word fat in reference to herself.
“That I’m good for a laugh but nothing more.” Her face is stony serious as I sit before her, stunned into silence.
Belle comes across so confident. So sure-footed. She never missteps and if she does, she has a sharp tongue to bring it back to recover so she’s in complete control. Couple that with the fact that she’s drop-dead fucking gorgeous and you get stone cold fucking crazy bullshit, which is right where I’ve found myself.
“Are you mental?” I ask, finding my voice again. “No really, I want to know. Have your proper pyjamas run off with all your sanity and left you with a hole in your head and a skimpy nightie that’s what…supposed to tease me? Is that what this is? Are you trying to issue a payback, Belle?”
“This is just what I wear to bed.” Her shrug is weak and I can see right through it. I can’t tell yet if this is a chink in her stunningly-crafted armor or if she’s crazier than I ever anticipated.
“Oh come off it. You knew I was coming over.” I rise up out of my chair and lean over the table. My voice is husky and hot against hers. “You wore that to throw me off and make me not think straight. Well, I’m seeing everything very clearly now,Belle.” My eyes drop to her lips.
Her gaze lifts to mine and I watch her pupils dilate. “What is it you’re seeing, oh brilliant, superstar, Tanner Harris?”
I pull away, breaking the cosmic crackle between us before I give in to what my body is begging for and what my dick is already pulsing with need to get inside of.
“I’m seeing that it was good I didn’t shag you that night at Old George. That you’re a head case with more issues than any man can handle.”
I sit back down with a huff, exhausted by this exchange already.
She laughs. Full-blown belly laughs. The timbre of it makes me grimace because it reminds me of the sound of tyres screeching right before a mighty crash.
Through a scary, forced smile of gritted teeth, she replies, “I may be a head case, but your diseased dick is the one that’s going to show up on a bad Google search.”
This makes me laugh. “My cock is perfection, woman. Just like it is in your fantasies.”
She sneers. “Yes, thank you for that, Tanner. You’ve made it crystal clear that your dick and all ofthis”—she stands, gesturing to her body—“have no place in your reality.”
I growl like a madman and rake my hands through my hair at this total, utter hysteria. I meet her eyes with a cold and calculated stare. “The things I could do to your body are endless, Belle Ryan. You’re fucking perfect and you know it. You’re the kind of woman blokes marry, not fuck and leave!”
Silence stretches out before us as my words sink in. I revealed more than I meant to, but it’s the truth. I’m hard just from fighting with her. But, no matter how badly I want to show her how fucking gorgeous she is, I have to be smart.
“So is that why you blew me off that night?” she asks with a haughty laugh.
I sigh. “That and I didn’t want to cause problems with Indie or Cam when I buggered off afterwards.”
“What kind of problems?”
“The kind that happen when a girl wants more than one night.”
And now the truth comes to a head between us.
“Well, luckily for you, I’m not the marrying kind.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her breasts push together, drawing my eyes to the beautiful valley of cleavage that rises and falls with her every breath. Her angry voice is shaky when she adds, “In fact, quick and casual is my preference.”
My eyes snap back to hers to search for proof that she’s telling the truth. Her teeth come down on her lush lower lip, practically laying it all out there for me to grab.
“So what are you saying?” I grind the words out like I’m a second away from losing my mind.
She exhales. “I’m saying neither of us are able to get it from anybody else, so why don’t we get it from each other?”
When her voice abruptly halts and the only sound that’s left in the room is our heavy breaths, I know exactly what’s coming next. It’s all there, plain as day. Her chin is dropped. Her eyes are nearly black. Her hands clutch the edges of the table like she’s holding on by a tiny thread that’s about to snap.
Sex.
Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex.
It’s all I can see, smell, taste, and hear as soon as the demand tumbles out of her mouth.
There’s no turning back now.
