“I’m sorry about what happened to Lucy. And I’m glad she has good friends who want to take care of her, but the man I’m sleeping with does not invite another woman into his bed under any circumstances, so … this needs to end.” I gestured between us. “Maybe you don’t see it, but there’s something between you two, and I don’t want to get caught in the middle.”
Lachlan looked like I’d slapped him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Don’t.” I snapped. “Don’t act like I’m making this up in my head. Here are the facts: You are sleeping with me. This person came after me too. He actually killed someone. And I’ve barely seen you. I’ve been alone in my room every night since. While you were taking care of her.”
He looked winded. “I … I didn’t think you needed anyone to take care of you. You’re stronger than Lucy.”
I laughed bitterly. Because that said it all. “Haven’t I already told you? There’s a difference between needing and wanting.”
At his silence, I shook my head, unable to look at him. Instead, I grabbed my shit. “Go back to Lucy. I don’t want you anymore.” Heart pounding, chest aching, I marched toward the ladies’ shower rooms.
I’d just opened the door when I heard his pounding footsteps. His arm reached over my head, his palm slammed into the door, and I was unceremoniously manhandled inside. “Adair!”
I dropped my gear, trying to maneuver out of his arms, but he caged me against the partition wall between the entrance and the showers. “Get off me.”
“I. Don’t. Cheat,” he growled through gritted teeth, his nose brushing mine.
“I never said you did. Now get off me. I won’t ask again,” I warned him.
“I don’t want Lucy. Not like that.”
“Adair.” I’d give him to the count of three.
Regret softened his expression. “It’s Lachlan. And I’m sorry I made you feel like I’d abandoned you when you needed me. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I don’t need you,” I lied angrily.
“This isn’t what I expected between us. But I shouldn’t have left you. If anything had happened to you …”
I pushed against his hold, but the bastard wouldn’t let up. “Don’t pretend like you care, Adair, just because you don’t want to be a bad guy. It doesn’t matter to me.” Another lie. So unlike me. The truth? Actions mattered to me. And he’d made his feelings clear this week. Rejection, fury, and the image of Lucy happy and taken care of in his bed awoke something ugly in me. “You don’t matter to me.”
He had the audacity to look wounded.
Ignoring a flicker of guilt, I pushed, “Go back to Lucy. I don’t care who you fuck now that it’s not me.”
He leaned in and whispered hoarsely against my lips, “Liar.”
To my horror, I could feel the burn of tears in my eyes. “I swear to God, you’ve got two seconds to get out of my way or I will make you.”
“You would have done it already. We both know you can leave whenever you want. So what do you want?”
“I don’t want you!” I pushed with all my strength against him, and he stumbled for a second but only to recover and use his whole body to hold me against the wall.
“Liar,” he snarled against my mouth. “You want me and you need me.”
The tears were coming, and I hated the vulnerability. In front of him of all people! It was horrifying. I hated—
“I hate you!”
Fury darkened his expression. “You want the truth?” he hissed. “When I realized that fucker had locked someone in the freezer, I thought it was you, Robyn. I’ve never felt terror like it. And a sick, awful part of me felt absolute relief that it wasn’t you.”
I stilled, shocked to my core.
“I’ve been drowning in guilt all week.”
Hence all the time he’s spent with Lucy.
Oh my God.
“The truth is …” His hungry gaze ravaged me. “I need and want and care about you. I have no idea what’s happening to me. What you’re doing to me …”
His confession hung between us, heavy, throbbing.
I was a little breathless as I confessed, “I don’t hate you … I’ve … missed you.”
An almost feral triumph lit his eyes.
Then his mouth crushed over mine. He released his hold as I kissed him back with equal desperation. His hand curled around my right thigh, opening me, and I could feel every inch of hard desire as he thrust his hips against mine.
The madness of lust took over.
I steadied myself with a hand on his shoulder as he yanked off my sneakers and then almost tore my sport leggings and underwear, whipping them from me. Then my right leg was draped over his shoulder, his head between my legs, his mouth on me.
At the first touch of his tongue, I threw my head back against the tile and cried out in pleasure.
Yes, yes, this was what I’d needed.
His wicked mouth, his talented tongue, the tickle of his beard against my skin … It didn’t take long to ricochet me off the peak into an explosion. I panted hard from the orgasm as Lachlan stood and provocatively wiped his thumb over his lips. Smug satisfaction burned in his eyes, and I wanted to pay him back, make him lose his mind too.
Fumbling for his zipper, I pulled him into me. As soon as he was free, he gripped my ass and lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist.
He surged into me as we fell back against the wall, and I gasped at the overwhelming fullness I’d yearned for.
“I’ve been so empty,” I confessed in my mindless longing for him.
Lachlan groaned against my mouth. “I’m sorry, Braveheart.” His voice was gruff. “No women in or on my bed but you. No leaving you alone again.” He kissed me tenderly.
I didn’t want to believe his promise, but I felt it planting a seed of hope in me
