Anger like I’ve never known rages through my system until I’m practically fucking vibrating with it. I’ve never felt such a raw, feral need to defend someone, to lash out at whoever dared totouchher. It’s irrational, but I’m quickly learning that sense is the last thing I possess where she’s concerned.
Georgia’s brows furrow, eyes meeting mine. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” My thumb ghosts the mottled purple and red bruise. “Who did this? Is that why you’re crying?”
She licks her lip, shifting in my arms, but she doesn’t pull away. “No.”
Teeth gritted, I tighten my hand on her waist, then force myself to soften, remembering she hurt herself in the accident last week. I flick my eyes back to the bruise. Did she hit her head when she went off road? But the coloring’s all wrong. It’s fresh, ’bout the size of a lemon, and looks painful as hell.
“Georgia. What the fuck happened?”
“I’m fine, Kade,” she whispers, blinking back more tears that threaten to send me to my knees. “Don’t worry—”
“Don’t,” I bark, making her jump. It takes work, but I lower my voice and smooth my hand through her hair. She melts into me, so I keep doing it. “Don’t lie to me, and don’t tell me not to worry. It’s too damn late for that.”
The surprise in her expression twists something inside me. “You’re worried about me?”
Brows furrowed, I nod. “Of course, I am. You’re cryin’ in a nursery when a whole party’s happening just outside, and you’re hurt. Why the fuck wouldn’t I be worried?”
“Because…” She trails off, red-tipped nose scrunching in confusion. “Because you don’t like me.”
Rearing back, I huff. “I don’t?”
“It’s obvious.” She rolls her eyes, shuffling back a step, bumping into the dresser and trapping herself.
I follow her, not letting her get away that damn quickly, but I do drop my hand from her hair, much as it pains me. I can tell she’s pulling away—not just physically.
Same way she has every time we’ve gotten too close, or things too heavy.
Georgia keeps shit close to the chest—something I understand far too well, but with her, it’s different. Every time we’re together, I find myself wanting to open up, find my walls crumbling whether I want them to or not.
But hers only seem to get taller, thicker—damn near impossible to climb.
Won’t stop me from trying.
“Would I be touchin’ you like this if I didn’t like you?” I rasp, brushing my thumb across her hip. She drops her eyes, following my movements as I slip under her sweater, finding soft, warm skin that makes my cock throb between us. “Would I have kissed you like I did—stolen the breath right from your lungs, if I didn’t like you?”
A shiver races through her. “That’s called attraction. Doesn't mean you like me. You can hate a person and still want to fuck them.”
I choke on my next breath. Christ, this woman doesn’t pull punches, does she?
“You’re right,” I agree and she scoffs, expression pinched like I’ve hurt her feelings. That thought makes me unjustly ill. “You can hate a person and still wanna fuck them. Can hate fuck, ’em right through a mattress. Sometimes, hating someone can light a fire under your skin, burn you straight to your core, and fucking another person with passion like that burning through your veins? Can’t be that damn bad.”
I step forward another inch, towering over her. My palm travels higher, pausing on her ribs, and I slip my free hand under her top, surrounding her in every way. The heat from the swell of her breasts burns against my flesh, but I ignore it, not wanting to push, knowing she’ll run.
She sucks in a breath and trembles beneath my touch, hands coming up to brace on my forearms, fingertips digging into my bare skin.
“So what you’re saying is,” she whispers, arching her neck to look up at me. “You want to fuck me because you have a thing for hate sex?”
Chuckling, I shake my head and lean in, drawn to her pain, her fight and fire.
“You’re trying to distract me, freckles,” I mutter, memorizing every single starburst etched into her skin. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’ll tell you the truth,” she starts, eyes flicking to my lips for a beat before finding my eyes again, “if you do.”
“Truth for a truth?”
A nod, a breath, another shiver.
