Hold On (The 'Burg #6)(177)

His hand came to my neck and he gently pushed, grunting, “Baby, stay down.”

My eyes flew open. My mouth went dry.

And my mind blanked.

I wasn’t there.

I wasn’t anywhere.

Not anywhere.

It came to me that I felt my body being f*cked.

I was wet. So wet.

Wanting it. God, I wanted to get f*cked.

I tried pushing my forearms under me again.

The hand at my neck tightened and I heard, “Stay down.”

Stay down.

I stayed down.

The cock thrusting into me kept doing it. I heard the grunts of effort. Flesh hitting flesh. Then his hand at my neck tightened further as he drove deep, stayed put, and groaned.

I stared at the comforter.

It took a while, a long while, then there was gliding. Slow, sweet, gentle.

Had he been sweet?

He’d been sweet.

But not to me.

Never to me.

To who he wanted me to be.

I felt lips touch my shoulder.

That felt sweet.

But he wasn’t sweet.

I knew sweet.

Now I knew sweet.

It wasn’t him.

“Be back.”

He slid out. I felt covers flipped over me. The bed moved.

He was gone.

I threw the covers back and bolted. On my feet, beside the bed, I saw my jeans and panties.

I didn’t bother with the panties, I yanked on my jeans.

Where was my bra?

Fuck.

I couldn’t find my bra.

Fuck it.

I needed a top.

“Cher?”

I saw my bag in the corner.

That’s where I’d find a top.

I ran to it.

“Cher.”

I dug through.

Who packed this? There was nothing there. Makeup. Deodorant. Socks. Jeans. Some panties.

I needed a goddamned top!

“Baby, what the f*ck?”

I felt a hand light on my back.

I whirled viciously, swiping it away.

“Jesus.”

“Don’t f*ckin’ touch me,” I bit out.

“Cherie—”

“Do not ever f*ckin’ touch me,” I clipped.

I saw a hand come my way, aiming at my jaw, and heard a soft, gentle, sweet repeat of “Cherie—”

I attacked.

Savage.

Wild.

I hit. I kicked. I clawed. I bit.

I heard grunts. I heard curses.

I nearly got caught but leapt away and kept fighting.

Verbally.

“You hold me down, do you see her?” I asked, my voice grating with fury.

“See who?”

“See her. See her. See her! When you hold me down, face in the bed, motherf*cker, do you see her? The woman you wish you were f*cking?”

“Cher, that’s—”

“Do you?”

“Baby, it’s only you.”

“Fuck you!”

“It’s only ever been you.”

“Fuck you!”

The two words rent the air. They weren’t a crack. They weren’t a slice.

They were a slash.

They went through me.

I felt them.

I just wanted them to go through him.

Leave him bleeding.

Leave him.

Destroy him.

Get him out of me for good.

I had to go.

Fuck.

I had nothing on up top.

I didn’t care.

I turned and ran.

I didn’t make it out the door. I was caught with an arm at my waist.

I started fighting again.

I was shifted to the side, pressed front against a wall, nearly immobilized, only able to kick back.

But I wasn’t hitting anything.

“Calm down.” The growl came at my ear. “Talk to me. What the f*ck’s the matter with you?”

“No more. No more of that shit. Hold me down so you can’t see me. Fuck me. Think of her.”

“Have you lost your goddamned mind?”

“You think I don’t know?”

“You don’t know.”

“I know.”

“Jesus, Cher. If you knew, you wouldn’t say this shit. You wouldn’t even think it. It’s you, for f*ck’s sake. Been you since the beginning. Never her. Christ, woman, I’m in love with you. Mia does not factor.”

I stilled.

Mia?

“You gonna calm down?”

I stared at the wall.

Merry’s wall.

Merry’s wall in Merry’s bedroom in his crappy condo.

I’m in love with you.

The words should have given me something else.

Instead, they opened me up for it to come.

And it came.

Oh yeah, it came.

The pain.

The pain of shame.

Fast. So f*cking fast. No way to hold it back. It tore through me in a way I couldn’t hold it back. Not anymore. I couldn’t bury it. I couldn’t stop it overwhelming me.

My legs buckled under the weight of it and I slid down the wall.

I didn’t hit the floor.

I heard, “Jesus, baby,” and I was up.

I curled into him, and when we were down and my ass was in his lap, I burrowed into him.