Page 17 of His to Unwrap
He sighs, some of the tension melting off him. “I didn’t fully understand the rules. I thought everyone was just getting some dumb sex toy—Doms included. Like a party favor.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Did you see what I got as my present?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Yes.”
“Did you want to…” I swallow, feeling shy suddenly. “Did you want to try it out first? Or did you want to build up to it…”
I snap my mouth closed when I realize he’s staring at me with something akin to horror. “What?”
“I’m not using that thing on you,” he spits.
I blink up at him. “Well, um, there’s probably other toys in this room if you don’t like the candy cane.”
He stands up straighter, putting distance between us, that horrified look still on his face. “I’m not usinganytoys on you. I’m not fucking you, Noelle, are you insane?”
I just stare at him, not comprehending. “But you…you said you were choosing me?”
His hands make an angry motion toward the door. “To get you out of there. To keep you safe from that asshole.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I’m not about to subject you to someone even worse.”
“Hang on.” My head is spinning. Confusion and something like fear are twisting in my gut. “Are you seriously telling me we’re not…we’re not going todoanything tonight?”
He grits his teeth, that muscle going in his jaw again. “Of course not.”
Suddenly, a swell of anger rises up in me, obliterating the confusion and fear. He cannot be serious right now.
I jump to my feet than immediately wish I hadn’t—I barely come up to his chest when I’m standing. At least kneeling on the bed gave me a few extra inches.
“So what?” I snap. “You planned for us to just sit in here for the next hour?”
He shrugs, looking pissed off all over again. “Seems like as good a plan as any.”
I stare at him for a long moment, trying to wrap my mind around this behavior. “I must be confused,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead. “You’re saying you don’t want Matthew to touch me tonight.” He growls at that but I ignore him. “But you don’t want to touch me either?”
“I didn’t say that,” he grits out.
“You just?—”
“I said I wasn’tgoing totouch you. Not that I didn’twantto.”
His words from a few moments ago streak through my mind.“I’m not about to subject you to someone even worse.”
Does he think I don’t want him? That I would consider him a worse match than Matthew?
“Roman,” I start, stepping toward him, but he steps back just as quickly, like he’s afraid of letting me get close.
“I wanted you to play Secret Santa with us tonight, Roman. I was sad when you didn’t.” He winces at that but I continue. “Do you know why?” He just stares at me, not offering any answer. “I was sad because I didn’t want to spend this night with anyone but you.”
All the air seems to rush out of him. “Noelle?—”
“When you hinted that you hoped to see me in that booth last week—” again he winces, “—I was happy because you were the only one I wanted to spend the night with.” His only reaction is the tightening of his fists at his side. “Don’t you get it? Iwantyou. I always want you.” I let out a shaky little laugh. “God, I’ve wanted you from the beginning.”
Suddenly he’s standing inches away, his hands gripping my shoulders. “You shouldn’t say that.” His voice is low, dangerous.
My own voice shakes. “Why not? It’s the truth.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grits out, and fresh anger surges in me. I shake him off.
“You don’t get to tell me what I do and don’t want, Roman.”
