Page 69 of Filthy Savage
I fucked up—big time.
But there is no way I’m going to admit that shit. Plus, I didn’t lie. I’m not with Jasmine. She’s never been anything other than a fuck. Sure, a fuck who lived in town, a fuck that I helped with bills out of pure fucking guilt.
“Jasmine and I have a complicated thing going on. I wasn’t planning on ever going back to her, though. I meant everything I said to you, Spencer.”
She narrows her eyes on me, her anger radiating from her body. I can feel it, and at the same time, I can almost taste it. It’s thick, and I know that this isn’t going to be a quick, sweet talk.
She’s livid, and if the tables were turned, I would be the same way. So, while I can understand her feelings as they’re valid, I just don’t accept them.
“Do you want to expand?” she asks, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
Moving closer to her, I lift my hand and reach out, sliding my fingers down the side of her throat, up to her jawline, and then glide my thumb across her bottom lip. “I don’t want to expand.”
“You’re going to have to. Although I’m not sure I care anymore at this point.”
I shake my head once, my eyes focused on hers. “Don’t, beautiful. Just don’t.”
Dropping my hand, I run my fingers through my hair as I let out a sigh and look down at my feet. “Fuck,” I hiss. “Fuck.”
“Evan,” she whispers.
I can hear the hurt in her voice, but I can also sense the distance there. She’s on her way out. I don’t blame her, but I won’t let her go anywhere. I’ve claimed her. Spencer is mine now—she’s always been mine.
“Jasmine was a girl I fucked at Sal’s Bar. She got knocked up, lost the baby, and the rest is a decade of guilt fucks and whatever the hell kind of toxic shit we had.”
Spencer doesn’t say anything. She stares at me, and I wish I could read her. She lifts her hand to her lips, her fingers covering them, and then she turns her head to the side, and I hear a hiccup.
“I’m really sorry that happened to her,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be insensitive, but she came at me, Evan. That is a tangled web I don’t want to be involved in. She knew where the cabin was. I thought you didn’t take women back there. I just don’t want the drama that comes with that woman, and I don’t want the drama of a man who can’t choose me.”
Anger flows through my body like a flash-bang. It’s immediate as it fills my bloodstream, and I charge her. Spencer backs away until her head bounces off the door with a thud. I slam my palms against the door on either side of her face.
“Who the fuck says I don’t or can’t choose you?” I growl. “I have already fucking claimed you.”
I lean forward until my lips almost touch hers as I say my next three words. They are the only ones she needs to hear and I need to say to her.
“Youaremine.”
“I’m not. I want to go home,” she breathes.
And if I were a bigger man, I would let her go. But I’m fucking not. Smashing my lips against hers, I give her a hard kiss. Reaching for her shorts, I tug the button open, pull the zipper down, then tug them over her hips and push them down her legs as far as I can. They fall to her ankles.
Reaching down, I grab hold of the backs of her thighs, gripping them tightly as I pick her up and press her back against the door. She lifts her hands, gripping my shoulders with her fingers to steady herself.
“I hate you for not telling me,” she whispers.
Shifting my face forward again, I brush my lips across hers before I whisper against them, “I know you do, beautiful. But we’ll figure it out.”
“Fuck you, Evan.”
I snort. “Yeah, baby. I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna fuck me. We’ll figure the rest out later because you aren’t someone I will ever let walk away. Not fucking ever.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
SPENCER
God.