Buying Beth

But one look at him and I’ve completely forgotten all the shit I want to say.

Johnathan’s eyes drag up and down over my body, and shamefully I feel myself warming. I squeeze my knees together to stop the throb that’s building in my core, but the movement only reminds me that I’m still a little tender and sore. And that tenderness reminds me of what we did last night and this morning.

Fuck, I just can’t win here.

Johnathan sets down the beer he’s been nursing. “Come here,” he says and pats his lap. “We need to talk.”

I don’t know what to do without Charlie here to act as my shield. With him around, it’s so much easier to pretend that being near Johnathan doesn’t affect me. So much easier to turn everything off.

But with just the two of us here, alone in the room, there’s nothing to dampen the attraction I feel for him.

No one to stop him from taking what he wants.

“Come here,” he repeats, his voice deepening.

I approach the couch slowly while trying to keep my breathing under control. I need to confront him, but every instinct inside my body is screaming for me to flee.

Stopping a whole cushion away from him, I sit down.

“No,” he says gruffly and pats his lap again. “Plant your sexy little ass right here.”

He can’t be serious.

“I’m not a child…” I protest.

“Then stop fucking acting like it,” he growls.

I open my mouth to tell him off, but before I even get the words out of my brain and past my lips, he’s reaching over and grabbing me.

He drops me on his lap and wraps his arm around my waist to keep me from being able to get up.

“What the fuck, Johnathan?” I squeak and try to stand up.

“Sit still,” he says, the hard bicep in his arm tightening around me and pulling me back down. “So we can talk.”

I take a deep breath and push it out through my nose. This is not at all how I expected this conversation to go.

“This is ridiculous,” I say through clenched teeth.

I haven’t even aired any of my grievances yet and he’s already managed to make me feel powerless and small.

“You’re fuckin’ telling me,” he agrees, and reaches over, picking up his beer.

On impulse, and maybe even a little bit of pettiness, I snatch the beer out of his hand and tip my head back to chug it down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Johnathan’s amused reaction while I finish his beer off.

“Feel better?” he asks with a smirk.

“No,” I answer as I peel the now empty bottle away from my mouth.

He takes the bottle from my hand and sets it off to the side, and as soon as he turns back to me I regret finishing it off.

Now there’s nothing to stop him from touching me with both of his hands.

“Did Charlie have a hard time falling asleep?” he rumbles, and reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of my face.

The movement is so tender, so damn sweet and unexpected, I freeze in place.

His eyes soften as he stares down at me.

I shake my head, partly to answer him and partly to shake him off.

He frowns and drops his hand, settling it on my thigh now. His big fingers wrap around me and give a gentle squeeze. “Then what took so long?”

“The story,” I lie.

“That must have been quite a story.”

I squirm uncomfortably. “It was.”

He nods his head slowly, and I have to look away because the way he’s staring at me is making me feel incredibly uneasy. I almost wish he’d get angry or pissed about something. This gentleness is completely throwing me off my guard.

“So how did it end?” he asks, grabbing my chin and gently turning my face back to him.

I lick my lips nervously and something clenches inside me as his eyes light up. All of a sudden, I’m very aware that I’m sitting on his lap. Very aware of every little part of me that’s touching him. My thighs against his thighs. His heat leeching into me.

“The brave prince and the beautiful princess vanquished the big, mean bear and lived happily ever after.”

“That’s too bad,” he sighs, and his thumb strokes my cheek.

“How’s that? He was the bad guy…”

He smiles and I still, realizing I was just starting to lean into his touch.

“Maybe the big, mean bear was misunderstood.”

I start to roll my eyes and his grip on my chin hardens.

“Maybe the big, mean bear was ready for more from life. Maybe he wanted the brave prince and the beautiful princess because he wanted something of his own.”

It’s clear now that we’re no longer talking about the story I told and we’re talking about Johnathan himself.

I don’t know what to say, other than, “This could never work.”