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Breach

Page 29

   


My fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt, my gaze glaring. I couldn’t believe all that had happened in the last hour. It was unbelievable what he had done and that Andrew could smell it on me. I was so embarrassed and pissed…and still turned on. I had to be a sick pervert.
“What the f**k was that all about?”
He smirked in that damned way he always did.
“He noticed.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Good.”
His hands moved to grab my ass, pulling me against his body.
My hand smacked against his chest. “I can’t f**king believe you.”
“You’re the one who said you were mine,” he said, throwing my words back at me. “I was just making it known.”
I pushed out of his arms and stepped back, regarding him warily. His arms crossed in front of his chest, closing himself off. “You’re always trying to push me away, but I want you to think about it. I mean really think about me no longer being around…or better yet, me with another man, screaming out his name as his c**k is buried in me. Tell me, what do you think now?”
I watched his face contort as he did what I asked. The usual myriad of emotions flickered across his face, but then there was a softness I’d never seen before, and it made him look very different.
In a split second, he snatched hold of my wrist and pulled me to him. His eyes widened and his gaze shot down to his hand, staring in absolute disbelief. It had been impulse. The moment he thought about me with another man, his possessive side came out.
His hand relaxed and as it began to drop, I slid mine into his. His eyes grew in alarm, his breath picking up in tempo.
“Shh,” I soothed, my thumb running over his in small circles. His eyes looked tormented, tearing at me. The simple gesture of affection was almost too much for him.
My gaze flickered to a hole in the wall next to his head that had not been there before we went out. It was out of place, on the opposite side of the foyer from the others.
“Did you punch another hole in the wall?” I questioned. “Were you angry that you let yourself go again and showed me the real you?” His face became steel, like he didn’t want to admit I was right. “Did you do that because you were pissed at taking me in a public restroom or because you claimed me as yours?”
All expression on his face fell away.
“What does it matter?” he asked in almost a sigh of defeat.
“What does it matter?” I mimicked. “We’ve been going with the flow and then all of the sudden… I don’t get you.”
“You’re the one who wants to ‘be.’ I told you it was a bad idea,” he spat. He picked up a glass from the table next to the door that contained a small amount of amber colored liquid and tipped it against his lips.
“Yes, but your actions back at the bar? Laying claim to me caveman style? Being possessive and jealous?” He stared at me in disbelief as the words began to match up in his mind, showing him what he’d done. “You changed things.”
His gaze snapped back to me and the painful expression looked like it turned to fear then anger. His arm swung out, throwing the glass in his hand into the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces as he yelled out. I jumped at his sudden aggression, surprised by his actions.
“Fuck!” His hands tugged at his hair. “Why was he there?”
“Who? Andrew?” I was confused, wondering what Andrew had to do with anything.
“He doesn’t know shit about me!” His lips twitched and his nostrils flared.
“Well, he seems to think he knows something.”
“With all the rumors, he probably believed them. He seems the type.”
“Before I touch that last part…what rumors?”
That stopped him cold and he turned to stare at me. “Lila, you’re intelligent, so I know you’ve figured out transactional law and contracts are not my area, but I can do it.”
I nodded. “You don’t have the personality and no one graduates with honors from Harvard Law to work contracts at a law firm in Indianapolis, albeit a large one.”
“Exactly.”
There was a pause, his hand moving through his hair, tugging at the chestnut strands. His jaw clenched, his forehead crinkled, as if lost in thought.
“The last few years…hell, they’ve been hell…” He trailed off and began pacing in front of me. His other hand moved to his chest, fisting the fabric above his heart. “I can’t go through that pain again. If I love you, then that’s something they can take away from me. Take revenge on me by hurting you. I can’t deal with that.” His voice dropped to a whisper, so low I almost couldn’t make out what he said. “Not again.”
My heart thudded in my chest when he mentioned even the prospect of loving me; admitting to both of us that it was a possibility.
He stopped and turned back to me, closing the distance. He surprised me; his lips attacked my mouth, his tongue forcing its way in to mix with mine. There was desperation in his actions. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me to him. Our need was fierce, pushing and pulling.
He slowed his kisses. They became lighter, almost savoring. He leaned back, his hand reached up, caressing my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“I’m not worried about you being hurt by me, Lila. I’m worried about you being hurt because of me.”
He was soft and tender for the briefest of moments. Even that seemed too much for him and his expression turned pained, and then the pacing resumed.
He stopped with his back facing me, and I watched a shudder move through him; from his head down his spine. His agitation seeped out, infecting me.
I took my bottom lip between my teeth, my fingers knotted and fidgeted at my waist. My whole body was shaking; my chest constricted, hindering my ability to breathe.
We were the same.
Broken.
His pacing resumed, and I heard him mumbling, but I couldn’t make out the words. For a brief moment, I feared for his sanity. His chest expanded in deep hard breaths. I couldn’t tell what emotion would face me as they were all present, and the anxiety in the room continued to grow. He turned and stopped in front of me. His nostrils flared, his eyes wide, and I took an involuntary small step back, my body bending away from him. His gaze ran up and down my body, taking me in.
“You think being a federal prosecutor is great. You work hard to put heinous criminals away, hopefully for good. You don’t think about the repercussions. About how the ones you’re prosecuting or their families may be angry with you and want revenge for you trying to uphold the law and make people safe. You don’t think about how someone will try to take your life because they blame you for ruining their life or their loved ones. They don’t care who else gets hurt in their quest to get to you. Sometimes they even threaten them to scare you.” His manic pacing resumed.