Page 77 of Filthy Secret
“No,” he snaps.
The word is harsh. It’s a bark, and it causes me to jerk back, but between his body and the table, I can’t go anywhere. His hips press against my belly, and I can feel his hardness there. I want him to take me again, but at the same time, I want him to walk away and call this whole thing quits.
I just want to be done in general. All this is too hard. It’s too much. I omitted truths. I kept secrets, but none of it was because I wanted to lie to him. I didn’t. What I wanted to do was live under an umbrella of denial and safety.
It just bit me in the ass.
Maybe.
If I let it.
“I can’t live like this, Atomic. What you’re suggesting, it isn’t something I can agree to.”
“Are you trying to give me an ultimatum?” he asks. “And why the fuck are you calling me Atomic?”
Arching a brow, I look into his eyes. I am full of defiance. I know I am, but I don’t care. What he’s demanding I do is no life. It’s no life at all, and I don’t want it. I’ve been dormant for six years. I feel alive again, and I want to stay that way. Plus, there’s the little fact that I love him, and I love the way he makes me feel, even if he pisses me off.
“Atomic is the name you want me to call you,” I state. “Grover is too intimate. It’s reserved for the woman you choose as your old lady, as yours. Not for a lying, untrustworthy bitch like me.”
His head jerks backward, his eyes widen, and I almost laugh at his reaction. I can’t believe he’s shocked at my words, at my anger. It’s like he thinks he’s the only one allowed to be pissed off right now. He used my body roughly, then walked away. He made me think he wanted to keep me but then threw me away.
My heart is broken.
I’m not going to just accept that and follow his rules. His rules benefit him because he’ll be screwing anything that crosses his path. Meanwhile, I’m supposed to be living like a nun, and for what purpose?
Just because he says so?
No, thank you.
I take a deep breath and wait for him to respond to me. After the shock wears off, I watch as his lips curve up into a grin. I don’t know what is so funny, the way he’s looking at me, his eyes almost dancing as they move from side to side.
Then he wraps his arms around me and roughly tugs me against his chest. He dips his chin, his mouth touching mine. “You’re too fucking much, Ryan.”
“No, I’m not,” I exhale.
“That’s right,” he murmurs. “You’re just e-fucking-nough.”
His lips press against mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, and he tastes me completely. Arching my back, I push my breasts against his chest, loving the way he feels against me. I want more of him, so much more.
I don’t want this to ever end.
But at the same time, I know that my secrets have ended this because after he sobers up and when he’s slept, he’ll realize who I am and what I’ve done, and he won’t want me anymore. And this same conversation will happen again because he won’t want anyone else to have me either.
He breaks the kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip, then lifts his head and presses his forehead against mine.
“We’re fucked,” he rasps.
“I know,” I agree.
“There’s nobody else I’d rather be fucked with, but it doesn’t change the fact that I just can’t trust you and, in my position, I need an old lady I can trust.”
We stare at one another. It’s clear that he’s getting ready to completely break me. And when he opens his mouth, my heart squeezes and my stomach twists. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
Everywhere.
“You’re right, legs,” he murmurs.
He takes a step backward, his hands falling from my body. He turns his back to me and wordlessly walks away. He closes the door behind him, but he doesn’t slam it, and as the door clicks into place, my knees give out, and I melt down to the floor.