With that I stood, threw a twenty on the bar and walked out.
I walked home as fast as my legs would carry me and stepped into an awaiting elevator. My fingers hit the button for the fourteenth floor over and over in my agitation. After a few minutes, I arrived at his door and began pounding. I was not going to use my key; he was coming to me.
It took him a moment to get the door opened and when it did, he stared at me in surprise.
I launched myself at him, pushing him against the wall as the door clicked closed behind me. “You, sir, are a fucking bastard.”
CHAPTER 13
My fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt, my gaze glaring. I couldn’t believe all that had happened in the last hour. It was unbelievable what he had done and that Andrew could smell it on me. I was so embarrassed and pissed…and still turned on. I had to be a sick pervert.
“What the fuck was that all about?”
He smirked in that damned way he always did.
“He noticed.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Good.”
His hands moved to grab my ass, pulling me against his body.
My hand smacked against his chest. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
“You’re the one who said you were mine,” he said, throwing my words back at me. “I was just making it known.”
I pushed out of his arms and stepped back, regarding him warily. His arms crossed in front of his chest, closing himself off. “You’re always trying to push me away, but I want you to think about it. I mean really think about me no longer being around…or better yet, me with another man, screaming out his name as his cock is buried in me. Tell me, what do you think now?”
I watched his face contort as he did what I asked. The usual myriad of emotions flickered across his face, but then there was a softness I’d never seen before, and it made him look very different.
In a split second, he snatched hold of my wrist and pulled me to him. His eyes widened and his gaze shot down to his hand, staring in absolute disbelief. It had been impulse. The moment he thought about me with another man, his possessive side came out.
His hand relaxed and as it began to drop, I slid mine into his. His eyes grew in alarm, his breath picking up in tempo.
“Shh,” I soothed, my thumb running over his in small circles. His eyes looked tormented, tearing at me. The simple gesture of affection was almost too much for him.
My gaze flickered to a hole in the wall next to his head that had not been there before we went out. It was out of place, on the opposite side of the foyer from the others.
“Did you punch another hole in the wall?” I questioned. “Were you angry that you let yourself go again and showed me the real you?” His face became steel, like he didn’t want to admit I was right. “Did you do that because you were pissed at taking me in a public restroom or because you claimed me as yours?”
All expression on his face fell away.
“What does it matter?” he asked in almost a sigh of defeat.
“What does it matter?” I mimicked. “We’ve been going with the flow and then all of the sudden… I don’t get you.”
“You’re the one who wants to ‘be.’ I told you it was a bad idea,” he spat. He picked up a glass from the table next to the door that contained a small amount of amber colored liquid and tipped it against his lips.
“Yes, but your actions back at the bar? Laying claim to me caveman style? Being possessive and jealous?” He stared at me in disbelief as the words began to match up in his mind, showing him what he’d done. “You changed things.”
His gaze snapped back to me and the painful expression looked like it turned to fear then anger. His arm swung out, throwing the glass in his hand into the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces as he yelled out. I jumped at his sudden aggression, surprised by his actions.
“Fuck!” His hands tugged at his hair. “Why was he there?”