I’m about to make it to the main road when he cuts off my path.
“I never treated you like one either,” he adds to his earlier comment.
Loving him wasn’t something I wanted. I still don’t want to. But when he looks at me, my chest aches with what I feel for him. Maybe if he saw that, he wouldn’t be so quick to cast it aside.
Reaching towards me, he pulls on the hem of my top, bringing me close to him.
“You’re not a whore,” he murmurs, stare boring into mine in the dim light cast from the lampposts. “You’re not a fucking whore.”
Hands banding around my bare skin, he keeps nudging me closer until I feel the low rumble of his bike on my thighs. And God, it makes my belly clench so tight that I can’t focus on anything apart from the effect he has on me.
Glacial baby blues narrow. His thumbs softly rub over the bottom of my bra. Although his touch is light, I feel it all the way to my core.
I know I should push him away. Tell him to piss off and walk away. The reality is, I can’t.
“Swan…”
My breath is robbed from me at the gravel of his voice. The feel of his dark blond hair knotted a
round my fingers only serves to draw me closer, deeper into his stare. Freddie can try to deny it as much as he wants, but he feels something too.
“Am I an idiot?” I ask myself out loud, although he replies, “You’re an idiot and I’m fucking crazy, so…”
“So?”
“So what’s the point of fighting this.” He gestures between us. “You want my cock as much I want inside your cunt. Win-win.”
Freddie’s right, I do want him. I want him more than he understands, but maybe if I can’t have him in all the ways I want…
There’s no pause for anything I might have to say. With a grunt, he pulls me behind him. The bulge of his arms beneath his tight T-shirt makes me swallow down my doubts and trepidation.
He’s going to hurt me more than he already has. I’m as sure of it as the air I need to keep me alive. Still, right now my need for him trumps any of my other needs or defences.
The entire ride to his place, my heart hammers with my whirlwind of thoughts. But in spite of it all telling me to walk away, to protect myself…I still go through the front door he holds open for me.
The familiarity of the dark walls and bright white woodwork relaxes me somewhat. As though in these walls it doesn’t matter what I want. All that matters is the here and now.
Right now, all I want is Freddie. And like my heart holds autonomy over me, I listen to its orders—Go to him.
Turning, I drop my handbag on the floor by the couch.
Closer. My heart pangs as he stands in the doorway watching me, my every step recognised by his tensing, bulging muscles.
I dispose of my top, throwing it on the floor.
Closer.
“Take it all off,” he instructs, face serious and arms crossed over his chest.
His shoulders are so broad and muscular that his entire body tapers perfectly into a V.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I work them down my legs. Bending over, my arse in the air, I unlace my converse and strip them off completely.
All the while my blood is pounding so hard in my veins that when I stand, I can barely stop myself from swaying. The whooshing in my ears roars so loud that it jars all my thoughts.
Go to him, my heart thunders. He’s waiting for you.
And so I do because he is. Hungrily so. We’re a breadth apart when he pulls me flush to him by the sides of my thong, ripping it off without a single thought or care.