“So now you want me, when there is no way there will ever be more,” I state, allowing my thoughts to just fall out of my mouth without even thinking about them.
Those lips of his, they stay curved up, and his eyes… those pretty blue eyes that I freaking love to stare into, they begin to dance. I have never wanted to slap him more than I do right now, then kiss him, because we didn’t really kiss, and I want to feel that amazing tongue of his inside my mouth.
God.
I need to get ahold of myself.
Gunnar chuckles, then lifts his arm and slips it beneath his head, propping it up slightly. I watch as he turns to look over at me. His lips are still curved up into a grin. Clearly, he does not think that there is anything wrong with this scenario.
Something very fucking wrong, and I’m pissed as hell.
And the fact that he doesn’t care that I’m pissed or thinks it’s funny pisses me off even more. I’m just a big, gigantic, naked, pissed-off ball of flesh right now. Narrowing my eyes at him, I press my lips together and try to figure out how I’m going to talk to this man without slapping him.
Because I really want to slap him.
A lot.
“I’ve always wanted you, Lainey. But yeah, I figured we could take the month and get it out of our systems.”
Those words should not hurt me as much as they do. I know the way these men are, which is why I really never wanted anything to do with any of them. I wanted to find someone who had nothing to do with an MC, and then I fell for him—like an idiot.
“Gunnar,” I whisper.
He clears his throat, and I expect him to start speaking, but he doesn’t, at least not immediately. Instead, he turns slightly before he reaches out. He wraps his arm around my waist and drags me across the bed, tugging me slightly beneath his body.
I don’t know what I expect to happen next, but it’s not his lips pressing against mine, and definitely not his tongue slipping inside my mouth. I don’t expect the way his tongue tangles with mine or the way I whimper with the desire for more… a lot more, especially of his tongue… anywhere on or in my body.
When he finally breaks the kiss, I blink and look up into his eyes. “This isn’t right. You are only here because there’s no commitment and I’ll be gone. You don’t really like me, and I’m worth more than being some whore.”
It happens so fast that I don’t realize what’s going on. His fingers curl around the front of my throat, his eyes zero in on mine, and he presses his lips together in a thin line. His nostrils flare, and his eyes glitter as they search my own.
“Never,” he grinds out. “Never call yourself a whore.”
I want to laugh. I don’t, because I can’t, but I really want to, because that’s exactly what I am— to him and to my new soon-to-be husband. He releases my throat, then shifts his face close to mine and slides his mouth across mine.
He slips his tongue inside my mouth again, but just a dip this time, before he moves backward slightly and his gaze searches mine again. I’m so mad at him, and yet, I find it hard to stay that way for more than a few seconds at a time. Almost as if I have to continue to remind myself that he’s an asshole.
“Then what am I?” I ask. “I agreed to marry a man I don’t know in an effort to keep everyone happy. And I just slept with someone who wants to have a month-long fling, to, as you put it,get it out of our systems.”
His lips twitch, but thankfully, they don’t turn up into a full smile. Because right now, I might actually slap him right across his beautiful face. I could do it, maybe, but probably not. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, then fill them, and I try to blink them away to keep from falling down my cheeks.
“You’re perfect, Lainey-Rose. Absolute perfection. You always have been. Which is why I could not do that to you.”
“Do what?” I ask. “This?”
He shakes his head once, his eyes focused on mine. They’re no longer searching. They are focused. I suck in a breath, holding it before he speaks, before he continues, and when he does, those tears are no longer filling my eyes. They begin to slide down my temples and onto the pillow beneath my head.
“Fall in love with you.”
VIKING
I said the words. For the first time in my life, I said the words that have been on the tip of my tongue for longer than I’m comfortable confessing, even to myself. Words that I never imagined saying to anyone.
I know it makes me a pussy. I’ve got no excuses for it. But I never planned on telling her how I felt, knowing that there was no way we could do anything about it. What’s the point in talking about something if it can never come true?
“Are you shitting me right now?” she asks in a whisper.
Guilt instantly consumes me. I shouldn’t have said a fucking word. The words just tumbled out without me even thinking about them. And now she’s looking at me like she’s ready to rip my fucking head off.