Page 125 of Story of My Life
I stalked toward her and planted my fists on either side of the rolled arm.
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to bend her over the couch and rip those little shorts from her body. I wanted to sink myself in her again and again until I was empty, until I had space in my head to think about something, anything, but her.
“You look really mad,” she observed.
“I’mtryingto be a gentleman,” I said tightly.
She peered into my eyes, then looked down pointedly at the erection trying to tunnel out of my jeans.
“You’re sweating. The veins in your neck are sticking out like pythons on a sidewalk. You’re about to crack a molar with that jaw tension. And once again, you’re acting like it’s my fault.”
I closed my eyes, hoping that not looking directly at her would help me find my control again. “Hazel, I’m trying to notwant to rip off your clothes and break in your couch with sex that you’re not ready for. Okay?”
She scoffed. “I think I’m a better judge of what I’m ready for than you are.”
The woman was playing with fire.
“Are you saying you’d like to have sweaty, meaningless sex with me?” I asked, opening my eyes.
She wiggled her ass on the couch between my fists. “I’m saying, I would have considered it after last weekend until you went all Mr. Freeze on me this week.”
“I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt.”
“By being mean to me? You have the emotional maturity of a toddler!”
I could see her nipples, tight peaks, against the fabric of her shirt. Had that happened when I’d touched her? If I reached between her legs, would I find her wet?
“In my defense, it’s hard to hold logical thoughts when your entire blood supply is in your pants,” I said.
“So let me get this straight. You want me. You want to have sex with me.”
“Dirty, rough, meaningless sex,” I corrected.
I tried not to notice the spark that lit her eyes.
“You want to have dirty, rough, meaningless sex with me. But you’ve decided that you’re not going to because you don’t think I can handle it,” she summarized.
“Yes.”
“So in order to not have dirty, rough, meaningless sex with me, you’re going to act like an asshole so I don’t get hurt.”
“Uh-huh.” When she said it like that, it sounded incredibly stupid.
Our faces, our bodies, were so close. An inch and my fists would be brushing her bare legs. Another inch and my mouth would be on hers.
“I want you. Enough that it pisses me off. I don’t like spending so much time thinking about you. And I really don’t like not being able to touch you. But I’m not looking for a relationship. And falling into bed with you would be stupid with a side of crazy.”
“Here’s the problem. You’re making the decision for me, which is not one of my favorite things.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing, Hazel,” I said, frustration building.
She was looking at my mouth like she was trying to figure something out. “I get that,” she said. “And I appreciate it. But you’re acting like I can’t handle myself. Like I’ll just fall apart once your cock gets anywhere near me. I’m actually pretty insulted.”
“Christ, Trouble. You just walked out of a long-term monogamous relationship. You haven’t dated the last decade let alone had a no-strings fling.”
“And you know what would make me so happy right now?”
“Please say joining a convent.”
