"I was scared," he says curtly before gazing down. "I was scared about how you'd react."
I'm suddenly aware of how close he is to me. His left hand has been grazing the side of my thigh while he's talked. I haven't pulled away. I haven't tried to break free of the prison he's built around me with his body.
"If I would have just told you I knew your donor, I was worried you'd want nothing to do with me." He's looking at me now.
"So you just didn't mention it?" I bite my lip to push back the tears I know are approaching. "Her heart is inside of me." I pull my hand to my chest. "I'm alive because of her."
"I couldn't tell you." He reaches to cup my cheek with his right hand. "You're so beautiful. I just wanted you so much."
I pull back and his hand lingers in the air before falling to the bed. I can't read anything in his expression. I can't tell if he's being genuine or trying to seduce me with his charm again.
"What about San Francisco?" I ask through clenched teeth. Maybe if I try a different approach, his unyielding resolve will crack.
He scowls. "I can explain that. You jumped to the wrong conclusion."
I ball my hands together into fists. He's pushing the
onus for this back onto me. How dare he? He said clearly he was going to San Francisco and then he was standing in the middle of a store in Manhattan. There is no mistaking the deceit in that. "Explain then."
"I flew to San Francisco the morning after we were together." He traces his finger over the blanket. "Something urgent came up in New York and I went there to put out a fire. I was booked on a flight back to San Francisco the evening I saw you there."
"What came up?" I ask coldly. I don't believe him for a second.
"Just work stuff." He doesn't offer anything more.
"Work stuff," I repeat. "That clarifies everything, doesn't it?" The facetious tone in my voice is more than noticeable. He recoils slightly at the words.
"I wasn't doing anything sinister." I swear he's smirking at me.
I pull my gaze from him to the clock sitting on my bedside table. "Your five minutes is up. You need to go."
"I'm not leaving." He shifts both his hands slightly so they're barely touching my outer thighs.
I try to pull myself up from the bed but I have no room. He's completely blocking me. "Move. I want you to go."
"Do you remember when I made love to you, Sadie?" The question slides off his lips and buries itself within me instantly. My body reacts. It's betraying me.
"I don't want to talk about that." I push against him again and his chest is so unyielding. It's too strong. It's too much.
"I've never wanted a woman more than you." He's leaning closer now. I can feel his breath whispering across my cheek. "I think about you every second of every day."
"Don't." I hang my head down. I can't look at him. I can't think about that night. In spite of everything, I've imagined feeling his hands on me again. I've imagined the depth of the pleasure when I came under his tongue and when I felt him filling me.
"You can't deny you wanted me." His lips are grazing my neck. Why aren't I moving? Why haven't I pushed my way past him?
I don't respond. If he knew how wet I was becoming from his very presence, he'd know that my body still longed for his. He'd know that I wanted to push down all my doubts and just let him take me right here.
"You still want me." He traces his lips down my neck and I shudder under the touch. "You want me to fuck you now."
I do. Please. I want that. I want him to push me down. I want him to pull my dress from me. I want him to bury his face between my legs.
"I want you to leave." I find the will to pull back from his lips. "I don't want you," I lie.
"You don't want me to go anywhere." His hand is pulling on my ponytail. My hair tumbles over my shoulders. "You want me to make you come until you scream my name."
"You lied to me," I mumble. "It was all a lie."
"No." He brushes his lips over mine. "This was never a lie."