Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
But when it finally does happen… when I pour into her with a groan of relief that it’s over with, I don’t feel much at all.
And for the first time in my life, I’m painfully aware of just how much emotion is tied into sexual intimacy. I’d already put up a wall around myself the moment Willow shot down my proposal. I’m not sure if it makes me less of a man or what, but fuck if that wasn’t the most unsatisfying sexual experience of my life, and it has everything to do with the fact I love this woman and she doesn’t love me back.
“Goddamn it,” I mutter as I pull out of her, lurching backward off the couch. I straighten, tuck my traitorous dick back into my pants, and pull my zipper up.
Willow’s smile is mellow and satisfied. But then she takes me in… the way I’m stumbling backward and the frown creasing my brow as I study her where she’s stretched out on my couch. Naked from the waist down, filled with my semen, and replete from a great orgasm.
“You need to leave,” I say.
There’s a flash of deep hurt within her eyes as she puts the puzzle together. My words, my body language, my expression.
There’s a stab of pain in my chest when, for the first time ever, I see Willow’s eyes fill with tears. Her lower lip trembles. “Was it that bad?”
I don’t want to hurt her.
Wait… fuck yes, I do. She hurt me badly, and I need to give it back.
“That was hollow,” I say truthfully. “I know you think we still have great sex between us, but apparently I don’t. It’s not enough.”
“Ouch,” she mutters glibly as she rolls off the couch. Her face is red with embarrassment as she hastily pulls on her panties, then her jeans. I watch helplessly, my conscience telling me to stop being a dick, but my own hurt feelings are vindicated that she now feels as badly as I do.
I know I’m going to regret this.
I know I’m acting rashly.
And yet… I wouldn’t stop this train wreck for anything in the world. My wall is still firmly in place, and I don’t intend to lower it again. It sucks to love and not be loved in return.
Willow sits on the edge of the couch to pull on her boots. The silence is oppressive, and I feel so displaced in my own home. I can barely stand to look at her—not for what she’s done to me, but for what I just did to us both.
“You really don’t want to talk about this anymore?” she asks as she stands.
I shake my head. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”
“I think you’re wrong,” she murmurs as she turns away from me. I watch as she walks to the front door and grabs the knob. Peeking over her shoulder, she regards me balefully. “I’m shocked… Dominik Carlson is an absolute quitter.”
That punches deep. I’ve never been called that before in my life. In fact, I’m very much defined by my winning attitude.
I hate myself even more that she’s right.
But this is all new. This fresh hell of emotions I’ve never experienced. I don’t know for sure I’ve completely given up, only that I’m tired of trying to figure things out.
As such, it’s best not to even prolong further conversation, so I keep resolutely silent. Her expression fills with disappointment, then she walks out of my door and out of my life.
I immediately miss her when she’s gone.
CHAPTER 25
Willow
I’m bleary-eyed as I scroll through the news articles on my iPhone. Two cups of coffee haven’t made a dent in my fatigue, so I push up from the kitchen table and move to the pot. The sun is barely up over the horizon as I look out the window over the sink and I realize I’ve now been up for almost twenty-four hours straight.
To say I couldn’t sleep last night when I got to Dax’s house from Dominik’s is an understatement, despite the fact I was exhausted to the bone. I laid in my room, tossing and turning, replaying every humiliating moment over and over again in my head.
Particularly that last part after we’d made love and he told me it just wasn’t good. I’m not sure why that’s striking my heart so much as it should only ding my ego, but I’m thinking it has something to do with the fact sex with Dominik was never an emotionless endeavor.
I pour another cup of coffee before trudging back to the table. Picking my phone up, I skim another sports article about the Vengeance’s win last night.
Arizona Heading to the Finals with a Vengeance!
By Kat Mizera
It’s been an exciting couple of months for team owner Dominik Carlson and his Arizona Vengeance team. In their inaugural season, the desert Cinderella team is heading to the Cup Final against two-time defending champs Carolina Cold Fury, and this is gearing up to be a hot one.