Destroyed(69)

He prowled forward, then stopped, keeping a careful distance. The air around him crackled as the calmness he’d reached from inflicting harm in the shower disintegrated.

My skin quivered with need; my core throbbed—stupidly turned on by his anger.

For a moment all we did was stare, then knowledge exploded in Fox’s gaze. “You watched.” He threw the blazer across the room. “You f*cking watched!”

My muscles locked down in fear before rupturing with adrenaline. I flew off the bed, keeping it between us.

His eyes never left mine, hands curling in rage. “What did you want to see, dobycha?” He inched closer to the bed. “Perhaps you’re looking for the mark? Maybe you’ve figured out who I am after all.” Sneering, he added, “You’re too f*cking intelligent not to have guessed by now what I am.”

I didn’t have a clue what he was, but once again, I knew I had to push him. I had to shove him so far past his comfort zone I broke another small part of him—all in the name of making him whole again.

Reaching for the hem of my grey t-shirt, I yanked it over my head, standing tall in my jean-shorts and bra.

Fox slammed to a halt. “What the f*ck are you doing?”

My hands trembled as I pulled the small knife from my pocket and tossed it onto the mattress, keeping it in easy reach. My heart roared in my ears as Fox rolled his well-formed shoulders, eyes locking onto my exposed flesh.

The sun bounced off my chain, glittering a silver path from collar to waist. “I’m done dancing around you like you’re a precious piece of china. What good is it to be bought for sex if you never deliver?” My voice filled with breathy trepidation as well as billowing lust. “You taunt me by never touching. You make me wet by never coming close. You self-harm instead of turning to others. You’re dying inside when I’m trying to help you live.”

Planting hands on my hips, I snarled, “You always think of yourself and never about me.”

His mouth hung open as his eyes narrowed to silver slits. “I take it back—you’re not intelligent, you’re f*cking suicidal. Don’t push me again, Zel. Remember what happened last time?” He took an angry step toward me, closing the distance between us. He fisted his hands. “You know why I can’t touch you! Stop f*cking pushing me.”

“No, I don’t! All you’ve told me is nothing. Secrecy on top of hidden agendas on top of a multitude of half-truths. Why can’t you touch me, Fox? Who made you like this? Who stole every basic right from you?” My shaking fingers went behind my back, pinging the clasp on my bra. I moaned as the material whispered off, kissing my nipples on its fall to the floor. I’d never felt so exposed or empowered. Stripping for a man who didn’t even want me. Who couldn’t come within a metre of me without locking his jaw and inching into murderous rage.

“Do you want to die? Is that what you’re trying to achieve here?” Fox growled. His hand dropped to cup between his legs. “You want this so damn much you’d be willing to die for it?”

“No, I’m not willing to die for you. I thought I proved that before.” My eyes shifted to where I’d stabbed him. “I’ll never forgive you for hurting me. I’ll never forget the madness living inside you. I will gladly kill you if you ever try to end me, but I need human connection, Fox. And you’re not giving it to me. You need to get over your issues. Forget your past, so you can touch me. Make love to me.”

It was too infuriating spending so much time with someone who I desperately wanted to help. Any minor progress we made was swallowed back into his deep-seated problems. For someone like me who existed to save others it was persecution, and I refused to be a martyr anymore.

Fox snorted. “Make love. I don’t even know the meaning of it. How can I do something I’ll never understand?”

I’ll make you understand.

My eyes flew open. Somehow my need to help him became tangled with the desire to make him fall for me. To keep him, so I could always be there to bring him back from the dark.

It didn’t matter that I’d be shackling myself with more problems than support—or that I never wanted him near Clara. It was a stupid fantasy.

It didn’t stop my skin burning for his mouth or my * growing wet for his cock. I wanted. I wanted. I wanted.

Yet he never came near me.

Angry tears glossed my eyes. “If you can’t give me what I need, then this deal is done. I told you I agreed to your terms not just for the money, but because I wanted you. Well, try wanting someone who can never give anything in return.”

My fingers dropped from pebbled nipples to my button and zipper. Undoing my shorts, I pushed them down in angry jerks—nothing sensual or alluring. I was f*cking angry, and I needed to get rid of the insane need in my blood.

Fox made a tortured noise in the back of his throat. “Stop it. I’m not safe. Put your clothes back on and give me time to get my shit together.”

I should’ve heeded his warning. I knew how dangerous he was. But it didn’t stop me. I snapped, “I want to see you naked. I want to run my hands all over you. I want to lick your chest and trail kisses down your stomach. I want—”

Fox froze. His entire body locked down. “If you think you can touch me like you did when you stitched my leg, forget it. I was in pain—that same pain helped distract me while you stupidly touched and provoked me.”