Chapter 9 #2
“For sure.” He stops at the red light and turns to me. His gaze burns me. Not just my skin—it detonates inside me with such intensity I want to jump out. “But I want your touch, your moans, your cum to coat my face, my hands, my cock. Only yours,” he rasps.
Jesus. I should be appalled by his words. I should slap him for the crass declaration. I should… I don’t know what I should have, but it certainly isn’t hitched breath, racing heart, and clenching pussy. Yet it’s the latter that wipes out my ability to speak.
The man is fucking infuriating. A loud honk forces him to refocus on the road, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to breathe.
I need to save myself.
We drive in silence until he pulls to the curb in front of my house.
I sense his gaze on me, but I don’t look at him, speaking to the windshield. “Look, Xander, I know women fall at your feet. I know you can buy them, woo them, or coerce them, perhaps. And I’m pretty sure that many of them fall for it, and some of them simply risk it.”
“Risk it?” His question is laced with genuine confusion.
“Yes.” I turn to look at him finally, his face impassive. “You might not realize it, but your light can illuminate and burn equally, Xander. And I’m not willing to risk it.”
He studies me, the imaginary clock ticking loudly in my temples, almost deafening. I was honest with him, and I don’t think he knows how to deal with it.
Will he respect my boundaries, or will he consider my truth a weakness in my defenses that he can exploit?
“Cora, you want me, and I want you. Why are you trying to complicate it?” he asks finally.
For some reason, now I wish he called me Coraline. What’s wrong with me?
“Because I’m not interested in what you’re offering. I don’t want to be a notch on your bedpost—one of many. I don’t want to be photographed as your arm candy. I don’t want to join the women who hope you give them more than you’re willing to.”
He frowns. “So you want to be exclusive?”
Out of all the messages in my speech, this is his takeaway? Fuck, I wish I had the ability to see only solutions instead of problems.
“Yes… No. No.” God, the man drives me crazy.
“Coraline,” he drawls, and fuck no, I don’t want him to call me that. “What is it then? It seems like your head is telling you a story you don’t really want to follow.”
He reaches to trace my cheek. The struggle not to lean into his touch is real. It’s a feather-like caress, but it makes me question my determination.
“We can be exclusive,” he adds.
“You want to date me?” I sputter.
The conversation is getting away from me and my plans, and I don’t know how to stop it. What the hell is happening?
He flinches, like the idea of dating is seriously off-putting, which I’d bet it is for him.
“Friends with benefits?” he smiles.
It’s kind of disarming how he’s trying to fit me into his way of life. It’s also alarming. “One of us—I bet me—is bound to get hurt.”
He frowns. “We haven’t even slept together, and you’re already thinking several steps… or rather disasters ahead? It’s a pretty fucked-up way to go through life.”
I snort. “It’s the only way to survive for some of us. To prepare for the worst, Xander. And this only proves how different we are. I’m sorry, just find yourself a new conquest.”
The words feel like a dagger to my own heart. Like I’m betraying myself, my chance at something fun and carefree. My chance at a sliver of freedom amid the cage of my life circumstances.
Xander drops his hand, but keeps me imprisoned in his devastating gaze.
I wish I knew what he sees. With his jaw set rigid, his expression is void of his usual playful grin.
I don’t know what he thinks, but I feel the weight of disappointment. I’m probably projecting, but I can’t shake the feeling he isn’t disappointed by my rejection but rather in me.
Or perhaps it’s me who mourns the opportunity to be someone else with this man. Because that woman feels more like me than the version I settled for.
I can’t bear his eyes on me anymore, but I can’t look away either. Xander is the first one to break the silent duel.
He opens the door and steps out, and I let out a long sigh, followed by the first full breath since he entered the bistro.
Tapping the hood, he rounds the car and opens my door.
He helps me out of the car. He closes the door behind me. He puts his hands into his pockets.
He’s right here, but it feels like he’s avoiding me.
I hate every minute of this interaction. I stood up for myself, so why do I feel like a wreck?
He starts turning.
“Why are you pursuing me, Xander?” I’m not sure why I’m asking. I should be content with the completion of this nonsensical chase.
But somehow, around this man, I don’t mind touching the flames. It’s like I want to get burned.
He pauses to look at me. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I like a challenge—”
“Wrong answer, young man,” I cut him off.
As I thought, I’m just a conquest for him. An exciting chase he would tire of soon enough.
His jaw ticks, and then he shakes his head in what feels like silent exasperation. “Good. I’d better go find myself a new conquest.”
The bitterness in his voice matches the aftertaste of our conversation I feel deep in my stomach.
Asshole.
Fucking asshole.
How dare he make me feel bad about my choices? How dare he saunter back into his car and drive away, leaving me there in a pool of regret?
I let myself mope for a moment. Then I stew for another one. Fuck him.