“I do. I love you so much, Cooper. More than anything. Please.”
Somehow, when he thrusted inside me, he fit perfectly and I didn’t know how the hell I messed it up minutes earlier. I decided to concentrate on him, but I still felt that panic in my gut. Fear growing in waves, I had trouble relaxing enough to even take a good breath.
My hands stroked his chest, wanting him to know I loved him. Wanting Cooper to ignore my tears and the look on my face. The same look that forced him to close his eyes as if he couldn’t finish if he saw me.
Afterwards, I rested against him as he again stared at the ceiling. Cooper was silent for nearly a half hour. A braver girl would have asked already, but I wasn’t brave. The last week was tougher than the first and I didn’t want to fight with Cooper. So I laid next to him with my hand on his arm, just over the patriotic eagle. By the time Cooper spoke, I had memorized the tattoo, down to every feather.
“Something has to change,” he said softly as his gaze remained focused on the ceiling. “I don’t know how you can mouth off about the smallest shit, but then lay there and let me fuck you when you hate it.”
“I don’t hate it.”
Cooper sighed angrily. “You’re not much of an actress, Farah. Your every damn emotion is written across your face. When you’re pissed. When you’re happy. When you’re miserable with me fucking you, it’s all right there for me to see.”
What could I say? Sorry my face does things I can’t control? Sorry I don’t like sex and applaud like every other girl? In the end, I just went with sorry and Cooper sighed again.
“Sorry you don’t want sex or sorry that I know you don’t want sex? Or maybe you’re sorry for not being able to get away from me? What exactly are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t know what you want.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he said, turning over to glare at me. “You don’t know what you want, so how the hell can you know what anyone else wants?”
“I know what I want.”
“To go to school. To be a teacher. You want shit you filled your head with when you were a kid. Now, you’re an adult wanting that crap. Do you really want it though? Do you want me? Do you even like guys?”
“I’m not a lesbian,” I said, getting out of bed and reaching for my clothes. “That’s such a cliché guys go to when a girl doesn’t react the way they want about sex.”
“No,” Cooper muttered, yanking on his jeans. “You might actually be a lesbian and not know it. I’m not sure you do much thinking about stuff outside your kiddie dreams.”
“I am attracted to you. You are not a girl. I am not a lesbian. If I was, I would have told you to fuck off right away.”
“Maybe not. It’s a small town. People act stupid. Maybe you figured you’d play along. I do tip well and you get friends and rides and shit by pretending to like me except you can’t pretend. Your fucking face won’t let you lie.”
“Lesbians don’t have sex with guys so they can get tips.”
“How would you know?”
“Fuck you. You don’t get your way and your immediate response is to accuse me of using you. I couldn’t just be young and unsure. No, I’m a bitch mooching off the rich guy. Fuck you, Coop.”
Once dressed, I wanted to leave, but needed a ride from the asshole behind me. Turning to him, I found Cooper so pissed I was surprised steam wasn’t pulsing out of his ears.
“I’m leaving,” I said, crossing my arms.
“We need to fucking talk.”
“About what? All the ways I use you and how you’re an innocent victim of my lesbian trickery? You’re an idiot and I want to go home.”
Walking to the door, I wasn’t surprised when Cooper stepped in my way and blocked the exit.
“I said we need to talk.”
“And I said about what?”
“About how you cry every time we’re together. Even out in the hot tub where for five seconds you seemed to enjoy yourself, you ended up bawling. Why do you keep doing shit you hate? Hell, when you went down on me, I thought you might puke you were crying so hard.”
Wrapping my arms tightly around my body, I tried to disappear. Even if Cooper wasn’t looming over me looking scary as shit, I wasn’t discussing my sex issues with him again.
“Fuck!” he hollered, punching a hole in the wall two inches from my face. “You just shut down whenever you don’t get your way. You won’t talk to me about anything. I get that you have a shit family, but that’s no reason to spend the rest of your life making shitty decisions.”
Trembling at how close he came to punching me, I whispered, “I’m going home.”
“I’m not taking you home. If you want to leave, fucking walk.”
Damaged and the Beast (Damaged #1)
Bijou Hunter's books
- Lost Highway
- Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)
- Sunday Morning (Damaged #7.5)
- Broken Memphis (Little Memphis MC, #2)
- Damaged and the Saint (Damaged #7)
- Junkyard Dog
- Damaged and the Bulldog (Damaged #6)
- Damaged and the Cobra (Damaged #3)
- Damaged and the Dragon (Damaged #5)
- In the Wind
- Little Memphis (Little Memphis MC #1)