Locked (Savage Men 2)

She grimaces. “It’s not as black and white as you make it sound.”

“Yes, it is,” I growl, shoving the plate toward her. “I don’t want this.”

She scoots it right back. “Yes, you do. Now eat.”

I ignore it and look the other way. Even if I’m hungry, I refuse to eat. I don’t deserve any of this.

“Can’t we return to the way it was?”

“And then what?” I bark, maybe a little too aggressive, but I’m pissed, and I don’t even know why. “You’re still going to want to leave.”

“That’s not important right now. I don’t like it when—”

“When what?” I say, biting my bottom lip. “Say it.”

She plays with her food, not even looking at me as she speaks. “When you’re unhappy.”

I sit back in my seat and fold my arms, gazing straight at her until she looks up, and our eyes finally connect. Electricity sparks through the air like lightning. I don’t look away and neither does she. Her whole body freezes as I lick the top of my lips, her eyes clearly following my tongue.

Exactly what I thought.

She can’t stay mad at me because she’s already beyond the point of no return.

That point where you can’t stop wanting someone. No matter how much you hate them. No matter how badly your brain tells you to run the other way.

She can’t stop craving me.

And I can’t stop desiring her either, but I’m not going to forget about this.

“I came here to say sorry,” I say. “Not to eat.”

She nods, swallowing away the lump in her throat. “You don’t have to. I understand now.”

“How?” I say, my voice going deeper each time I speak.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, right?” she asks.

I nod. There’s nothing more to it. Nothing to explain. I did what I did, and I pay the price every day.

“Do you hate me now?” I ask.

My fists clench as I picture those vivid eyes of hers filled with disgust as she gazed at me on the beach after hearing the truth. Maybe she isn’t mad anymore, but I am.

She asked for it, and then she still denied me a shred of dignity.

Maybe she was right when she said I was dangerous.

But she likes danger.

She hungers for it.

Why else would she come to this island?

Research? Fuck no. She wanted adventure.

I’m as big as an adventure can get.

She just wasn’t prepared for what it meant when you fall into the hands of a beast like me.

She bites her bottom lip and says, “I’m not mad anymore. But I know you are.”

I nod slowly. I guess anyone would have. What I did was unforgivable. Still, that look in her eyes … it hurt me. Makes my heart fill with rage. Makes me want to do … bad things to her.

She should’ve escaped while she had the chance.

Now, I’m ready to pounce.

However, she gets up from her seat … not to run.

But to kneel right in front of me.

Chapter Nineteen

Accompanying Song: “Only Human” by Cold Showers

Juliet

I kneel right in front of him and wait.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing it anyway.

My brain has turned to mush again.

His eyes make me do it. Make me do a lot of things. Dirty things.

I want to see what his reaction is. What he’ll do to me. If this is what he wants.

For me to submit to his needs.

It’s always been about his needs … and mine. And the struggle we both endure to keep it in check.

It’s the only reason he told me about his past and about what he did. Because he wanted to keep me so desperately, and I was still slipping away. By coming clean, he’s only made that voice in my head stronger. The one that tells me to flee, to get off this island in any way possible.

But I can’t.

Not without hurting him.

And right now, that hurts me more than anything.

Seeing the pain in his eyes as he sat there on the beach changed something in me. Something irreversible. A part of me is inside him, and I can’t take it back. It’s too late for that. He stole my heart and bound it with need, desire … and love.

The only man who hasn’t tried to ditch me after finding out how difficult I can be. The only man who accepts me for who I am. And I didn’t accept him.

Didn’t accept his apology. And it hurt him in ways I didn’t think was possible.

I didn’t know my opinion of him mattered so much to him. That my words could cut like a knife.

And I hate that it had to be like this.

I want to put it behind me.

Behind us.

What he did in the past doesn’t matter in the now.

Because we’re here, on an island, where no one can judge us.

How many times has he had to apologize? To say he was sorry and not be taken seriously?