Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I close the distance she created, because I'm done with space between us. Done with her running. “Then explain it to me.”
“I can't!” Her voice cracks. “That's the point. I can't tell you, and you can't fix it, and we can't—” She presses her palms to her eyes. “God, why did you have to do that today?”
My hands itch to touch her, to pull her against me and make her forget every reason she's listing. “Because I'm tired of pretending I don't want you.”
“Want.” She drops her hands, and the look she gives me makes me shiver. “That's all this is to you? Want?”
I move closer, backing her toward the window. “You know it's more than that.”
“No, I don't!” She plants her hands on my chest, but doesn't push. Just holds them there, fingers splaying over my heartbeat. “Because you won't say it. You won't say anything real, you just—you touch me and look at me and act like that's enough.”
Heat crawls up my spine. Her touch burns through my shirt, searing into skin. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to stop!” The words burst out of her, desperate. “I want you to stop making me feel things I can't afford to feel. I want you to stop looking at me like—like—”
“Like what?”
Her breath comes faster. “Like you'd burn the whole world down just to keep me.”
“I would.”
The confession hangs between us, raw and vicious. Her pupils dilate, lips parting on an exhale that sounds like surrender.
“Don't say that.” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “Please don't say things like that.”
“Why?” I cage her against the glass, hands braced on either side of her head. The pool's glow illuminates her, turning her into something holy and damned all at once. “Because you might believe me?”
“Because I already do.” The admission seems to hurt her. “And that terrifies me more than anything Parker could ever do.”
Parker. His name on her lips makes me want to break something.
“He doesn't deserve you.”
“This isn't about deserving!” She shoves at my chest, and this time I feel the strength behind it. “This is about survival. This is about things you don't understand, can't understand, and I'm not—” Her voice wavers. “I'm not strong enough to drag you into this.”
I catch her wrists, gentle but firm. “Let me decide what I can handle.”
“You don't get to decide!” Tears finally spill over, tracking down her cheeks. “You don't get to just—to just claim me like I'm yours to take. Like there aren't consequences. Like people won't—”
“I don't care about the consequences.”
“Well I do!” She wrenches free, putting space between us again. “I care that you could get hurt. I care that this thing between us is going to explode and take everyone down with it. I care that I'm married to a man who would—” She cuts herself off, jaw clenching.
“Who would what?” I move toward her slowly, predator tracking prey. “What would Parker do, Ivy?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“The fuck it doesn't.” My voice drops to something dangerous. “Tell me what he'd do.”
“No.”
“Tell me.”
“Why?” She rounds on me, eyes blazing. “So you can play hero? So you can swoop in and save me from the big bad wolf?” she pauses, head tilting. “What if it's me who's the wolf?”
My mouth twitches. “Then I'd say come eat.”
“You have no idea what I'm talking about.” Her laugh is wild, unhinged.
“Hmmm,” I murmur, doing everything I can to stop myself from tearing her apart with my fucking teeth. “Maybe. Or maybe I do.”
Her face crumples. “Stop.”
“Yeah?” I force. “You really want me to stop?”
She stares at me like I've gutted her. “You're insane.”
“Probably.” I reach for her face, thumbs brushing away tears. She doesn't pull away. “But I don't fucking care anymore.”
I tilt her face up, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Why are you here, Venom?”
As quickly as they came, her tears have gone. Vanished. As if they never existed. “Because I'm weak when it comes to—”
“—Wanting me?” I test.
“Needing you.” The correction destroys something in both of us. “And that's so much worse.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Ivy—”
“Don't.” She presses her fingers to my lips, and I taste salt from her tears. “Don't make this harder. Please. I'm trying to be smart about this. I'm trying to protect us both.”
I kiss her fingertips, watching her face fracture. “What if I don't want to be protected?”
“Then you're a fool.” But her hand slides into my hair, betraying her words.
“Tell me you don't feel this.” I press closer, eliminating every inch of space. “Tell me last night meant nothing. Tell me you can walk away and forget.”
“I can't.” The admission breaks her. “But I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don't—” Her breath hitches, something dark flickering over her eyes.
I grab her by the chin, cutting off her words. “I'm done. Done letting him have you when you're supposed to be mine.”