Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“Mouth,” I whisper, pulling her face back to mine. “You stood me up.” I kiss her chastely, and everything inside of me softens. My world stabilizes. My heart announces its presence. And as I stare at her, my life seems to tunnel into an oblivion of her. All her.
She looks away, as if she can’t stand the intensity of our eyes being locked. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry she keeps ping-ponging between acceptance and denial. I’m sorry she can’t hack the whirlwind of our connection. I’m so fucking sorry. And frustrated. And lost. And, fuck me, dependent on what only she appears to be able to give me.
It’s a shitty situation to be in. For me, and for her. But it is what it is. I’ve accepted it. It’s time, once and for all, for her to stop fucking fighting it. Just feel it. All of it.
I slam my mouth to hers, swallowing her whole with my kiss, my passion, my need. She doesn’t deny me. She can’t possibly when we’re touching. A crowbar couldn’t pry us apart, so Ava fighting would be fruitless.
I push my groin into her stomach hard, showing her something else she does to me. The irrational reactions are out of my control. My craving. My obsession. My frustration. “What do you need time for?” I ask, and she sighs on a mild shake of her head.
“To think.”
Think? She needs to stop thinking. It’ll drive her nuts like it does me. “Don’t think, Ava,” I say sternly. “This is how it is. Accept it.” I force myself to break away, my dick aching, willing me to bury it inside her. Right fucking time, wrong fucking place. I reach out to steady her when she sways, my smile unstoppable. Go on, baby. Deny it now. Tell me I don’t turn your world upside down.
She hisses in pain, and I recoil.
I drop her, stepping back, my eyes like lasers on the collection of bruises on her arm. My jaw goes into overdrive, my teeth gritting, my breathing going to shit once again. It’s something else I can’t control where Ava O’Shea is concerned. This newfound anger.
There are two instructions running on repeat through my head. Just two.
Find that bald prick.
And kill him.
She quickly covers the source of my rage, her hand settling over the marks. It’s a pointless effort. They’re imprinted on my mind. “I’m fine,” she says quietly, shifting awkwardly before me. “I need to get back to work.”
I stare at her, this beautiful, oblivious woman, and something uncomfortable shifts inside of me. Guilt. Except this guilt is unfamiliar, yet it hurts just as bad. It turns my stomach. It makes me want to punish myself. Knowing she’s hurt kills me, whether physically or emotionally, and as I stand here, looking at the woman who has knocked me for six, I have the most unbearable realization.
I can hurt her the most. I’ve only ever hurt the people I’ve loved. I could kill her spirit. Her faith. Her trust.
That woman out there, she’s falling in love with you, Jesse. Like every other fucking woman you’ve had. Except probably harder. Probably faster. And that is plain fucking cruel when she doesn’t know who you are.
I try to ignore John’s words. I can’t. Because while I’m sure this woman can fix me, it could break her in the process. And, Jesus, I can’t do that to her.
I move back, dazed, confused, and feeling even more broken than I have before.
She’s a cure. I’m a disease.
Walk away. I should let her have the man and life she deserves. I’m not that man. And I can’t give her that life.
My anger returns tenfold, and my feet carry me back, away from her, my body working in line with my brain. I can feel Ava’s confused expression resting on me.
I. Am. Beyond. Help.
I was a fool to think even for a moment that Ava could save me. Because if saving me means breaking her, I’m out.
I blink, my eyes stinging, and turn, walking away from her.
I fight with my urge to look back, and lose.
She looks dazed. Confused.
It’s better than fucking destroyed.
I don’t bellow my despair to the heavens until I make it back to my car.
17
I don’t remember my drive back to The Manor. Massive Attack played, and when Angel came on, I turned up the volume to its maximum, trying to drown out my thoughts and the image of her looking at me, lost and stunned.
I park my Aston haphazardly and walk up the steps of my manor on numb legs, my mind focused on the only thing that can get me out of this hell. I pace through the rooms, ignoring everyone I pass, and John comes out of my office with Sarah as I approach, his face grave when he sees me. I start shrugging my way out of my jacket and pulling my tie loose.