Sex, Not Love - Page 89

“You were dead set against a relationship with any man when this started. You intentionally dated people you didn’t connect with just to keep things on a purely physical level.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s all we agreed to.”

“So what?” I raised my voice. “I didn’t agree to be divorced at twenty-eight with a sixteen year old. But here I am. And you know what? I’m happy with what I have, even if it isn’t the fairytale life I thought I’d get. Sometimes you’re planning on driving straight and life takes a left turn, which turns out to be right.”

We stared at each other, and I saw so much in his eyes—sadness, anger, guilt, desire. But most of all, I knew I was looking at a man who had feelings for me. I wasn’t alone in this. Yet something kept him from even attempting anything more.

“It’s not that simple,” he said.

“I didn’t say it was. But rather than try to figure things out, you’ll just say goodbye in two weeks and not look back.”

When he didn’t man up and say anything, it further fueled my anger. I set my coffee on the nearby end table, and my hands went to my hips. “Tell me, will you have a replacement for me by the time I fly out for the christening? How does that look to you? Do I extend my hand and she and I can exchange compliments about each other’s dresses and talk about your stamina?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you…bring another woman to the christening. Christ, I’m not even thinking about another woman, Natalia.”

I tapped my pointer finger to my lips. “Hmm…is that supposed to be a mutual thing? Because what if I want to bring a date?”

That got his attention. His jaw flexed, and I saw a flicker of fury in his eyes. But I wasn’t happy with a flicker; I wanted the full damn flame.

So I pushed. “You asked me if I wanted to stay with you when I come out for the christening. Is my date welcome, too? I mean, would it bother you if we were loud in your guest room? I tend to moan a bit when I’m getting fucked hard.” I paused. “But I guess you know that already, don’t you?”

Hunter’s already rigid jaw clenched so tight, I thought he might possibly crack a pearly white. Yet he still didn’t blow.

I wanted to know the reason he wouldn’t fight for us. I needed to know. Frustrated, I lifted my arms and smacked them down against my sides. “Why did you come here, Hunter?”

“Because I knew you were upset, and you kept blowing me off.”

“So? Did this help you in any way? Did you need to see first-hand that I’m upset or something? Because it certainly hasn’t helped me any.” I turned to storm away, but he gripped my elbow, stopping me.

“Natalia.”

I jerked my arm from his grip and whirled back around so fast, he had to retreat to avoid crashing into me.

“Or did you come for a quick fuck? Is that what you came for?” I started fumbling, undoing the buttons on my shirt. “That’s all it was to begin with anyway, right?”

“Stop it.”

I didn’t. I kept right on going. The third button, then the fourth…

“You deserve more than I can give you.”

That wasn’t an explanation; it was a cop-out. But he’d finally said something that was right. I did deserve better.

“When my parents were splitting up, my father told my mother he’d always cared about her, but he’d never deeply loved her the way he loved Margie. He basically admitted that he’d settled. And let’s not even talk about my choice of Garrett. You’re absolutely right. I do deserve more. I deserve someone who wants to be with me the way I want to be with them. And maybe it’s my own fault for growing feelings for you when you never promised anything more than a physical relationship. But you know what…” I searched his eyes. “I didn’t think I was in this alone. I was foolish enough to think you were right there with me, breaking your dumb rule about keeping things to sex only.”

Hunter rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor.

I pulled my unbuttoned shirt closed. “You should go.”

“Natalia…”

His calm, level tone made me snap. I was riding an emotional rollercoaster, and he was floating through the lazy river. Screw this.

“Get out! Go find your new fuck of the month. Oh, wait. It’s fuck of the quarter, isn’t it?”

I spun around and marched toward the front door, flinging it open without another word. Hunter stayed put for a few long moments and then came toward the door. Only, he didn’t walk through it; he slammed it shut. With him still inside.

“I am right there with you. I just…”

“Just what?”

Tags: Vi Keeland Romance
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