Brutally Beautiful(30)

I pushed him away, covering my mouth, breathing heavy, unable to catch my breath. I had no words. I could tell everything by the way this man kissed me. I could tell how rough, hard, and erotically passionate this man was and how I was losing the ability to breathe because of his kiss. He stumbled back a step, breathing just as hard as I was, eyes blazing into mine, savage, wild and hungry. This stolen kiss, this theft of lips, this claim on my mouth was the most erotic sexual kiss in my life. My knees were so weak; I leaned back heavily against the counter again to stop my body from melting into thick sweet syrup at his feet.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think you’d taste…so good,” he whispered, dragging his hands roughly through his hair and back down over his face.

He had to ruin the moment, right? A dark laugh bubbled out of my throat, “What? You thought waitress flavored kisses were too sour for you?” Shoving myself off the counter, I walked away to the opposite side of the trailer, putting as much distance as I could between the both of us, and wanting to scream at him. I paced back and forth trying to regain my composure. Hell, just trying to stop panting like a dog in heat would be helpful. A thick dense knot settled in the pit of my stomach. I just let him kiss me and I loved it. I had no control over it, not a damn ounce. Now he’s going to degrade and belittle me and be all Kade-like again. Why? Why did he have to kiss me like that, yet be the biggest * I’d ever met?

For a moment, he looked as dazed as I felt, then his arrogant lip quirked up in a cocky smile. Look at that…the man had a playful dimple that introduced itself, mocking me on one of his cheeks. I wanted to smack the offensive boyish charmer right off his mean face.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I stopped my pacing. “Don’t. Don’t say anything else. You’d be perfect if you just kept your arrogant mouth closed. Your intimidation skills are lacking and I’m not the kind of woman who would actually believe that you are superior to me just because you’re a man. You think you’re better than me and you’re not Kade.” Anger at his stupid pompous smirk made me want to burst his narcissistic bubble and tell him that I was a hell of a lot more than a waitress in a strip club, but I clenched my mouth closed. This wasn’t like me to let someone get under my skin.

He raised his eyebrows and stalked towards me with purpose. “That’s what you think?”

“What I think is that you’re a disgusting, demeaning, lonely man who looks good in an expensive suit.”

By the time I ended my sentence, he was seething. He lowered his face to mine and looked straight into my eyes, viciously. “Let’s get everything out, yeah? I’m the first person to acknowledge that I am 100% f*cked up in my head. That’s why I stay away from everyone. When I first laid eyes on you, God forgive me for my stupidity, I thought you were a f*cking angel. But, I’ve met people like you, you’re just like everybody else I’ve ever known,” he sneered, disturbingly. “I think people should strive to be more than what you are. Look at what I saw when I first saw you; a waitress, poor as shit, working in a strip club where men pay her for the way she makes them feel, living in a f*cking trailer. Then you came up to me, swaying those perfect hips, and you asked me what I wanted to drink. I made my assumption on what you gave me, love. And I offered you a job.”

Stunned, furious and explosive, I held my chin up to him, “That’s all there is, just the black and white cover of a book? Never even opening it up to see the inside. So I’m just a waitress or, as you explained so eloquently, a whore?” I closed the small distance between us, wanting the confrontation, wanting to fight with him. “Then all you are is a pathetic storyteller who lives in a world full of make-believe. You’re like Mister Fucking Rogers!”