“I was honest with you tonight!”
She balks at me as if I’ve slapped her before turning her back on me. “Just once,” she marches to the bathroom, clicking on the light, “just once, I wish I could make you feel what this is like.”
“I think finding out that you were brought into my club and having a relationship with not one but two of the men closest to me is enough fucking surprise to last a lifetime.” I hover by the bathroom door, and she pauses with the toothbrush in her mouth before tearing it out, the residue bubbling on the corner. “That’s not the same, and you swore you would never bring that up.”
“Not to hold it against you, it was to make a point!”
“A choice point!”
“Fine. I’m sorry,” I grunt, my entire body lighting with anger and frustration. “I just meant it was surprising enough. And just to make myself clear, I’m good until twenty years past death with fucking surprises when it comes to you.”
“That wasn’t a surprise of my design!”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve met your quota.”
“That was then,” she argues back. “I’m talking about now. Right now, at this very moment.”
The idea of coming clean about Antoine gets tossed out the window as I step in shit, neck deep.
I’m fucked now, either way. If I come clean about our possible threat, then she’ll only slam up her defenses.
One fight at a time, Tobias.
“I’m talking about being blindsided without a good reason when you’ve had time to tell me the truth!”
You’re so fucked. Pack a bag for your ass and kiss it goodbye.
The man inside of me refuses to back down, the man who desperately wants to mend this bridge. He wants to crush her mouth, silence her with his tongue, and punish her severely with his cock. This is anything but progress, and I fear all my efforts the last three weeks are fruitless by how she’s regarding me—which only enrages me further.
“I’ve had time? I’ve had time? Putain.” Fuck. She pushes past me, refusing to meet my eyes, and I follow on her heels. “Between bussing tables and following you around like a second puppy and getting the door slammed in my face, I’ve had time, right?”
“Don’t you dare! I haven’t slammed the door in your face!”
She squares off with me across the bed as I unclasp my watch and slam it on her nightstand, unloading my pockets. “Might as well have. And believe it or not, Trésor, you are not the easiest woman to fucking talk to. If the subject would have come up—”
She rips her sweater off, and my eyes drop to the swell of her perfect tits atop her heaving chest.
“Eyes up here, Pierre, and pardon me if I don’t ask the right questions pertinent to the secrets you’re keeping at the time.” She throws up her hands. “Who the hell knows with you!”
“What do you really expect from me, Cecelia? Did you expect me to come back to you a completely reformed man with all the answers, who makes all the right moves? I’m still the same man—the villain. And I’ll always play dirty to protect you and keep you safe. I’ll consider making any allowance you need to try and make this work, but you’re truly fucking mistaken if you think I’ll shy away from the ruthless, unforgiving, and cruel parts that still exist in me when need be. You asked for the man you fell for, well there’s two sides to him, and neither are going anywhere.” I cut my hand through the air. “End of.”
I swear I see smoke coming from her nostrils, expecting fire to follow as her eyes narrow. In a flash, she shoves down her jeans and unclasps her bra before pulling open her chest of drawers.