Bad Things(98)

“Why did you say I was your girlfriend? That was a lie. We were never together, not like that.”

He took a deep breath, rubbing his chest along mine. I saw a flash of something cross his expression, and I thought it might have been pain. “It wasn’t a lie. It was the way it should have been, if I wasn’t so f*cked in the head. I’ve handled things badly from the start with you, and I’m sorry for that. The way I feel about you…the way it’s been between us from the start, I was an idiot for denying it to myself. I want to be exclusive. No just friends, no f*ck buddies, no more avoiding commitment. I want to be with you. I’ve made it way more f*cking complicated than it needs to be, and I want to un-complicate it. I’ve no right to ask it, but will you give me the chance to prove that I can be better than I’ve been?”

My heart was pounding about a million miles a second, in joy…and terror. He’d broken my heart before ever promising me anything. How much worse would it be, if he crushed me like that again, after I let myself hope for something more from him?

Unexpectedly, ridiculously, I burst into tears.

It wasn’t a quiet affair. I let out big, gasping, ugly sobs, and once it started, it didn’t stop.

It was the first time he’d ever seen me cry. A little sound of distress escaped from deep in his throat, a noise of deepest sympathy.

He nuzzled his face into my ear. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’d take it all back if I could, but I can’t. I will try to make it up to you, though, okay? Please, just give me the chance. Please.”

I was able to calm myself when I realized that the strongest emotion I was feeling was actually relief. The idea that I could fall so hard for him, that I could feel this so deeply, and have him feel none of it had just been so awful for me, and coming back from that feeling was an emotional breakdown.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO





I never could keep my mouth shut. The good, the bad, the ugly, it all came out, and this was no exception.

With Tristan’s weight on me, his soothing whispers in my ear, and the knowledge that he couldn’t resist this thing between us any more than I could, had me spewing my heart out in minutes. I’d wanted to hold it in, because some confessions demand reciprocation, but my big damned mouth took the decision from me, as usual.

“I love you,” I told him, my voice unsteady.

I knew he wouldn’t say it back. I was prepared for that. But he did the next best thing, moving his mouth over mine in a ravenous, desperate kiss, his tongue invading my mouth.

I moaned against him, moving my body into his hard form restlessly.

He broke off, studying me. I moved my hips, trying to dislodge his uncompromising thighs. I wanted him between my legs, not straddling them.

“I want to be inside of you bare. I really am sorry about doing that last night. I lost my mind. But I swear to you, I’ve always used a condom. Always. You and I are exclusive as of now, and you’re on the pill. The choice is yours, but I want you to consider it.”

“Yes,” I answered too quickly, too needy to say no to him. He’d just given me what I wanted most—himself, and I couldn’t have denied him a thing.

He slanted his mouth back over mine, shifting just how I craved, his hips burrowing between my thighs.

He pushed his erection hard into me through our clothes, and my nails raked over his back.

He pulled back. “Don’t move,” he told me, moving down the bed. As he passed my hips, he took my shorts and panties with him with one smooth pull. “I got you something.”

He went into his closet, coming back out with something dark clutched in one hand, and something that looked suspiciously like handcuffs in the other.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, squirming on the bed.

His mouth twisted into a smile. “Relax. You trust me, don’t you?”

I swallowed, my jaw clenching, but I nodded.

He moved back to the bed, crawling to straddle me again.

He slipped my tank top and bra off, sliding my arms above my head with a feather light touch.

His lips moved close to my ear. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Tristan,” I began, but he shushed me, pulling a black blindfold over my eyes, and tying it behind my head.

The world went dark, and I didn’t understand the purpose of this until he began to touch me.

He kissed my neck as his hands moved up to my wrists. He cinched the handcuffs on very slowly, and as he tightened them, I realized that they were padded on the inside, to protect my wrists.