Queen of Hearts (Wonderland 2)

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to feel.

I just lie there in stunned silence. My body seems to be melting into the mattress below me. I almost feel as if I’m falling down a deep hole weighted by Nick. We’re falling further and further into this abyss of… I’m not sure. But right now. We’re falling down the hole together.

The words “I love you” threaten to fall from my lips, but I stifle them knowing there won’t be a declaration of love in return.

Men like Nick Hudson don’t love.

At least not the ordinary love. The normal love where two lovers lie in bed whispering loving words to each other after a good fuck. He himself said he doesn’t do normal. He doesn’t do ordinary. Nick Hudson is not going to love me in return, and I know this.

And I refuse to be that woman. I won’t be the one who falls in love with a man, who will do anything for a man, only to have him not feel the same in return. I won’t let a dick make me weak like so many women do. Women like my mother.

I suddenly tense up and begin to maneuver my body from underneath his. I sit up, grab the sheet to wrap around me and glance over my shoulder to look at Nick who’s watching me closely. The body has been satisfied, but my mind… my mind goes into a dark, lonely place. There’s a reason I don’t have a man in my life… my body may say yes, but my mind screams no. I’ve seen what happens when my mother would fall in love with one man, and then another, and another, and another. Fake love. False love. Impossible love.

“I won’t become my mother. I don’t want to need a man in my life, and yet,” I say with a shaky voice as I bend down to start picking up the clothes that are scattered around. “I seem to be repeating history. No matter how hard I try not to be her, I am. Maybe even worse. Last time I checked, she didn’t run off to Italy to be held in a Tuscan medieval town being hid from ruthless men who all want a piece of her.”

Nick sits up, and his relaxed face slowly changes. One eyebrow rises and his jaw clenches. “What are you doing?”

I toss his clothes on to the bed. “What do you mean?”

“You just gave me your virginity and you hop out of bed like it was nothing. You start beating yourself up immediately? Why?”

I suddenly stop and turn in his direction. My eyes widen at the disbelief painted on his face. “No reason to make what we did into anything it isn’t. I’m a woman of my word. I told you that you’d get to fuck me before I die, so…” Yeah, I was an asshole, but assholes don’t get hurt.

Nick stands up and puts on his pants in a fluid motion, never taking his eyes off of me. Leaving his chest bare, he walks over to where I stand and places a hand on each side of my arms. He softly kisses my forehead.

“You aren’t fooling anyone, Lyriope.”

Okay, so maybe I’m not an asshole… even though it would have been a lot easier if I were.

I pull away and take a couple of steps back. I tighten my grip on the white sheet covering my body. “I’m just stating the obvious.” I shrug my shoulders, trying to seem casual.

“Stop,” Nick softly orders.

I know I’m pushing him away. Spiraling out of control because I don’t know how to handle emotions. I know I am doing what I always do. It’s easier this way. Easier to keep up the wall and keep him at bay.

Soft kisses, whispers of love are dangerous and just not the way I do things. And for Christ’s sake, where the fuck is the Nick Hudson monster I’d grown to… love? I want the dickhead to return. I want him to make it easy to hate him. I want him to hurt me. I want him to frighten me. I want him to make me regret the day I first met him at the Morelli party.

“Our contract is up. We really both should go our own separate ways.” Is it what I want? No. But I don’t know what to say or to do.

“I said, stop.” Nick’s voice is stern, unyielding. Almost a true warning that could end with me… hating him.

Good. That’s exactly what I need.

He closes the distance between us and lifts my chin so I’m looking into his eyes. He has full control over me. He gives me no choice.

Very slowly and very gently, he kisses me. I close my eyes and allow myself to feel the kiss. I allow the familiar feelings his touch gives me, to chip away at my wall.

With my eyes still closed, and my lips still near his, I whisper, “What do you want from me now?”

Nick kisses me lightly again. “I want you to stop.”

I don’t know what that means. Stop what? Stop protecting myself? I have to. If I don’t, then no one else will. I learned that at a very young age. It’s all on me. Survival of the heart is all on me.

“Stop,” he repeats.

I don’t know how to feel. I have no idea what to make of the most stunning man before me. He’s so strong, so masculine, so terrifying, and yet so soft and sensual when he wants to be. Nick makes me want to open up… to be free. But as quickly as I want to be open, I realize that staying closed is safer.

Nothing can become of this. Nothing at all. We live in two different worlds. He represents everything powerful and rich, and I’m simply the imposter who accidentally fell into this world.