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kick the shit out of it.
 FUUCK! Then I kick the pillow that is still on the floor, clamp my jaw and call Pete so he can
give me Diane s fucking room number.
When he answers, and I speak, I sound murderous.  Diane s fucking room number.
 Wh-whaaat? Shit, Rem, Riley told me about the argument . . . please just count to fucking a
hundred before you do anything, Pete says.
 The room. Now.
 Two four three eight.
I slam the phone down and silently does as he says and count to a hundred.
I ve got the phone in my hand by number 98, and by 99, I got my fucking finger on the numbers. I
finally pound the keys, and when Diane s voice answers I very softly, and very angrily growl,  I m
going down there for Brooke, so you can either open the door for me, or I can break it down. Your
choice.
I slam the phone and stop at the door, telling myself to breathe.
But I can barely pull the air into my lungs I m so agitated at the thought of not sleeping with her. I m
agitated remembering she left me. She could leave me. Any. Fucking. Day. Again. Until I win this
championship and make her marry me.
I m so ready to make her my wife, my body preps me as if for a physical fight, and I m ready to
hunt and capture her. I squeeze my knuckles and focus on my breath as I head two floors down, and
the instant I reach the door, Diane opens it.
Shit, but I think I wanted to break that fucking door!
 Diane, I greet her, then I head straight for Brooke. She s curled in a fucking ball, crying on that
bed, and all my anger and frustration arrows to stiffen my cock up instantly.
Because more than jealous, more than possessive, she s hurt.
And my body seems to think the way to make it better is to turn those sobs into moans.
God, I need to fuck her and get fucking close to her. I need to kiss her and pet her.
I need her. In. My. Room. My Bed. And my body in her.
 You, I quietly tell her, opening my hand.  Come with me.
 I don t want to. She wipes a tear.
Breathing through my nose, I try to stay calm, telling her,  You re mine and you need me, and I
want you to please come the fuck upstairs with me.
She sniffles.
 All right, come here. Grabbing her by the hips, I swing her up in my arms.  Good night, Diane.
She kicks and struggles, but I clench my hold on her to still her, bending to whisper to her,  Kick
and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the fuck out of me. You won t sleep anywhere but with
me tonight.
She s silently angry as I head to our room, but I m fucking angrier that she had the fucking balls to
try and leave me if only for half a moment. I don t even know why we re fighting about this. I was
amused by her jealousy, but I m not amused anymore. I need to be inside her, and I need it now. One
touch and she ll fucking know she s every woman to me.
Inside our room, I toss her on the bed and jerk off my T-shirt, then I reach out to get rid of her
clothes. She flails and kicks at me, her face still streaked with tears as she edges back.  You asshole,
don t touch me!
 Hey, hey, listen to me. I trap her in my arms and hold her gaze with mine, my heart pounding as
my hunter instincts kick in full gear in preparation to make her mine again.  I am insane about you.
I ve been in hell without you. In hell. Stop being ridiculous, I tell her, meaningfully squeezing her
face.  I love you. I love you. Come here.
I haul her onto my lap, and she quietly starts crying. Every soft sob rips me in two. I remember it
all. I may not remember what I did when she was gone, but I remember the emptiness of her like a
curse on me. Maybe I fucked up, but all I probably did was try to fill the void she left in me which
nobody can ever fucking fill but her.
 How well did you think I d cope when you left? I ask her, hurting like a son of a bitch at the
reminder.  Did you think it would be easy on me? That I wouldn t feel alone? Betrayed? Fucking lied
to? Used? Discarded? Worthless? Dead? Did you think there wouldn t be days where I loathed you
more than I loved you for tearing me apart? Did you? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]