The slight change in posture caused my body to press against his, and as though acting on instinct, his head dropped lower, aligning with mine. His very presence made me second-guess myself. Made me second-guess my sanity for even slightly entertaining the thought of giving him another chance.
“I missed you,” he muttered as his fingertips brushed against my shoulder, pushing my hair back to expose my neck. “This thing between us…it’s not over yet. It can’t be.”
Something about his words snapped me back to reality, my mind wising up quicker than my body which was still melting against him. “You’re right, Cain, it’s not,” I choked before taking a moment to regain my credence. Once I found my voice again, I turned toward him. We were practically nose to nose when I told him with confidence, “Because something can’t be over when it never even started. This—” I gestured between us, “—is just…nothing.”
A flash of hurt flickered behind his eyes before he masked the pain my words had clearly caused. “I’ve never stopped wanting you, Rosie. You’ve always been with me.”
Why was it that the use of my actual name, instead of Rose, sent my heart plummeting into my stomach? I didn’t like it, and the fact that I didn’t like how he hadn’t used the name he always called me, bothered me more than it should have.
Yanking down the neckline of his t-shirt, he pointed to the space between his collarbone and his shoulder. “I got this right after you left him. When you leftus.”
I sucked in a sharp breath—not because of the black and gray photo-realistic rose he had tattooed onto his skin, but because of what he said.Us. He’d lumped himself in with my breakup with his brother.
Again, my mind bounced back faster than my heart. “A rose? You tattooed a fucking rose on your chest and thought it’d have me crumbling?” A manic laugh bubbled, and I tossed my hands into the air before connecting them with his chest and pushing. The momentum caused him to stumble a step backward, and I used the opportunity to put more distance between us. “I don’t even like roses, you arrogant asshole. If you knew anything about me, you’dknowmy favorite flowers are dahlias.”
Cain rubbed his hand against his beard, his eyes blazing with a heat I could feel from where I now stood across the room. My hands crossed in front of me as I stared back at him, refusing to back down. Stalking toward me, he closed the distance I’d made and this time, his hand wrapped around my throat. His warm, calloused palm encircled the vulnerable part of my body, yet not a single feeling of fear flickered through me. Lust, yes, without a doubt, but I wasn’t afraid of the way he held me.
He used his grasp to turn my body and back me to the couch, where he sat down first, then pulled me onto his lap, still keeping his grasp firmly around my neck.
My knees came to rest on either side of him, the soft leather cool, contrasting against my hot skin.
Moving his hand from my neck, he placed it on my hip and pulled my body down onto his further. Through my thin jeans, my core connected with his hard cock, and we groaned in unison at the contact of our bodies. A jolt of electricity instantly zinged through me and radiated in my clit, causing it to throb. I used every bit of restraint I had not to rub against him.
“The rose is a symbol of you, Rosie, not your favorite flower.” Cain’s words came out breathy, and his eyes drifted to the spot where our bodies connected, though shrouded with several layers of clothing. When he slid his gaze to mine again, he brought his hand up, pushing back more of my hair before pressing it against my cheek. “I couldn’t give a shit less about your favorite flower. In no way does that define whoyouare. I got the tattoo because I knew it’d be the only way to keep a piece of you with me at all times, long after you’d left.”
The entire room felt like it was closing in on me in that moment.
“Stop calling me Rosie,” was the only thing I managed to whisper.
Cain's brow shot up in question. “You told me a few nights ago to stop calling you Rose, and now you don’t want me to call you Rosie? I’m confused…”
“You confuse me!”
“The feeling is mutual.”
I licked my lips, desperately needing the moisture against them. “It doesn’t matter, Cain. None of it matters. We can’t go back in time.”
“Then why are you holding words from seven years ago against me?”
“I’m not,” I snapped. “I just have no desire to move backward. You are a part of my past, not my future.”
Even as the words left my lips, I knew they were a lie. And as I watched Cain’s face contort from lust to agony to anger, I felt it deep in my gut that I had just said the wrong thing.
“Tell me what I have to do to make this right between us, Rose,” he sneered, his hold on my hip tightening. “Tell me what I have to do to get you to leave him.”
“Leave who?” I questioned.
Cain snickered and lifted his pelvis slightly, pushing his erection against me. “The fact that you just asked mewhotells me everything I need to know.”
Sly, my subconscious told me, putting the pieces together.
A snarky response was at the tip of my tongue, but before I could retort, three things happened, seemingly faster than the speed of light.
First, Cain's large, tattooed hand wrapped around my hair tightly as he formed it into a ponytail at the crown of my head. Next, he tilted my head downward so we were staring straight into each other's eyes—his light brown met my hazel, and it was as though time completely froze. Our eyes spoke everything we held deep within us and it felt as though the world tilted on its axis. Memories flooded my mind, a full movie of every moment we’d spent together on hyper speed. Then, finally, he used the hand in my hair to pull me toward him, smashing his lips against mine.
I put up no fight as my lips parted on instinct, letting him gain access to my mouth immediately. His tongue swept against mine, connecting, exploring, while the hand in my hair kept me firmly in place against his. He kissed me hard, and I kissed back with equal fervor, loving the feel of his lips against mine.
My body went into overdrive and a spark ignited within me like never before, pulsating through my veins. Rocking against him, I moaned into his mouth from the friction my jeans caused against my aching clit. An overwhelming need for this man radiated through me, and I was certain I’d never felt this alive. Every inch of me trembled as emotions I’d long since pushed away came barrelling to the surface.
