“Know I am. Surprised you’re admitting it, though. Thought it would take more than that.”
“What? More than you being a total dick to me? No. I might be naïve, but I’m not stupid. And I get that you’re doing your best to scare me away,” she leaned in, “because I frighten you.”
He snorted. Even though she was hitting close to the mark. “Day a little five-foot-nothing pipsqueak scares me is the day I get on my horse, find myself a nice tree in the middle of nowhere, and lay myself down and die.”
“Oh my God, you are such a drama queen.”
“You wanna stop insulting me now. I get that being rejected hurts. That it hurts more because I was done sugar coating things for you. But I’m a man. And I’m a man who’s only going to allow you a few punches.”
“Or what? You’ll put me on my horse and send me on my way?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Well then, you’d actually have to touch me to achieve that, and we both know you’re too scared to do that.”
With that, he was done. He stepped forward. He didn’t delight in the way she shied back. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him.
Her hating him, he could live with. Her being fearful of him, that cut deep for some stupid reason. Which is why he hadn’t wanted it to come to this. But it had. And he had to see it through.
“I ain’t scared of touching you, baby. Touching you would be no hardship.” She backed up against a tree and he reached out to cup her face. “But a girl like you, you wouldn’t be able to handle what I’d want from you. You couldn’t do no strings if your life depended it. The second I fucking took you, you’d be dreaming up some bullshit about marriage and babies and happy-ever-fucking-after.”
He knew she’d already been dreaming that shit up. Saw it in the way her eyes closed briefly. He leaned in.
“Girl like you, needs patience, needs gentle, needs normal. You couldn’t handle me. I’m doing this to help you, girl. Because you need to get over this idea that I’m the man for you. I. Am. Not.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that loud and clear. I still say you’re scared.”
He grasped her face between his hands, knowing it was a stupid thing to do, and he kissed her. He didn’t hold back. Didn’t move slow and gentle to build it up to something big. He went straight for the kill.
He dragged one hand away from her face, down to her breast. He slipped his hand under her lightweight jacket. Fuck, didn’t she know it got cold here at night? And she’d come out wearing next to nothing?
Not your fucking problem. He cupped her breast, running his finger over her already stiff nipple. She gasped and he flicked his tongue into her mouth. Fuck yes. For a moment, he forgot this was a lesson. Forgot everything but the taste of her. The sweetness that burst along his tongue.
So long. So long since he’d tasted sweet. And his body fired to life. Years of his own hand around his dick, only interspersed by the occasional trip to the city to fuck someone he didn’t even know. Then back to his hand.
And none of it had felt good. Or right. Or clean.
She felt all of those things. And more.
Fucking everything.
Damn it. As that thought hit him, he realized he’d lost control of his little lesson. He pulled back, trying to hide how much that kiss had affected him. He took another two steps back.
“Go home, girl. Don’t come back.”
Silence, except for her harsh breaths, coming fast. Shallow. Then she moved, straightened.
“You got your say. I get mine.”
“Girl—”
“I get the sort of man you are now. Don’t worry, I really do get it. And I won’t be back. You won’t need to suffer through my presence in your life.”
Ouch. Direct hit to the gut again. But this is what he’d wanted, so he wasn’t going to protest now.
“You’re also right that I live in my head. ’Cause it’s safe there. Because nothing harms me there. My mistake was opening the gates and allowing you entry without realizing you weren’t worthy.”
More blows. But he remained still, not giving her anything back.