"And if I do? As if you’ll let me return to them."
"Did you want to return to them?"
She hesitates.
"Do you?"
"Yes," she bursts out, "I am getting married in a few days and I’d rather spend these last few days with my family in my childhood home, okay?"
A tear drop squeezes out from the corner of her eye and I bend down and lick it up.
She shudders, "Why did you do that?"
"Fuck if I know." I peer into her features. "Fuck if I know why I do half the things I do around you. Fuck if I know why I am sporting a constant hard-on when I think of you." I tilt my hips, and my already lengthening cock stabs into the soft flesh between her legs.
Her breath catches in her chest. She stares up at me with those fucking huge eyes of hers. She licks her gorgeous lips, and damn it, I am lost. I lean in closer, unable to resist the temptation of tasting her just one more time. Just a sip and I’ll let her go. Besides, I am still not going to let her come. This is simply a way of tasting her one last time. Then, I’ll stay away until the wedding.
I lower my lips to hers when she bursts out, "What was your dream about?"
"What?" I blink.
"I heard you cry out. And when I walked in, you were thrashing around in your bedclothes. And you called out for your mom."
I stare at her for another second, then pull away. I sit on the side of the bed and lower my arms between my legs. "Get out," I say tightly.
"What?" She frowns.
"I said, get the fuck out of my suite."
"You don’t mean it."
I glare at her, "Do I look like I don’t mean it?"
"You…you look shaken."
"Oh?" I arch an eyebrow.
"Was it the shooting? Is that what you were dreaming about?"
I laugh. "If you think taking a bullet would cause me nightmares—" I shake my head. "On the other hand, perhaps it’s the fact that I took a bullet for you that’s causing me those dreams."
"Don’t try to change the topic."
"I am not," I drawl.
"I know it’s difficult to talk about it, whatever it is, but maybe it will help."
"What will help is if you get your arse out of here."
"Thought you liked my ass?"
"Don’t push it, Theresa," I say in a tight voice. "If I were you, I’d get the fuck out of here while I still can."
"Why can’t you talk about it, Axel? You called for your Mom, so you must be remembering things about your childhood."
"The one thing I’ll never forget is what happened in my childhood," I snap.
"I am sorry for whatever happened to you," she murmurs, "but at least, you are remembering everything. So that’s a good sign, right?"