Page 106 of Crossed

It pisses me off, and suddenly my earlier anger comes surging back in.

Because this is unfair. It’sunfairthat I can’t have him. And it sure as hell is unfair that I’m engaged to someone else and Cade is who he is when nobody has ever,evermade me feel the way he does.

And fuck him for acting like he has the right to take in Quinten and be so goddamn caring when he isn’t available to stay in our lives.

“You really have some fucking nerve,” I spit, moving toward him and shoving him in the chest.

He stumbles back slightly. “Excuse me?”

I step forward again, jamming my finger in his chest. “How fucking dare you. What was this, some master plan to soften me up and get me back in your life?”

Cade’s eyes grow sad. “Amaya.”

“No.” I jab him again. “This isn’tfair, Cade. I can’t have you, you know? We aren’t good for each other. And here you are, sitting in your office looking like…that”— I gesture up and down his body— “and being the way you are with Quin, and I’m supposed to what, forget about everything else?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth!” I yell. “How about you try the truth for once?

Tell me why Quin was in here with you, and then tell me who you really are, because you’re sure as hell not a holy man.”

He chuckles, and when he brushes a hand down the front of his shirt, his muscles bulge, swirls of rainbow creeping up his arms, splotches of paint dotting his neck and the sharp angles of his jaw.

Ihatehow good he looks right now. How normal. Not when I’m desperate for the reminder of why he’s not.

“Here’s the truth, mon trésor. You’re delusional.” He steps into me. Clearly, he’s angry. The veins in his neck throb and his nostrils flare like he’s hanging on to his control by a thread. “Ungrateful.”

I cross my arms and huff. “Don’t you tell me I’m ungrateful, you…youfake!”

He frowns, then lifts his head until it’s facing the ceiling, and he lets out a disbelieving laugh.

The air thins, vibrating like it’s soaking up our fury. The moment feels frozen, and I wait with bated breath to see what he’ll do. If he’ll control himself like he should or if he’ll break.

The truth is that Iwanta fight. I want something to shatter this feeling and let me free of this prison.

Cade runs his paint-covered hands through his tousled black hair and tugs on the roots. “You areinfuriating.”

I open my mouth to reply, but then his arms reach out, fast as lightning, gripping me around the waist and pulling me in until I’m flush against his body. I gasp, heat spreading through me like a wildfire. His fingers tense around me like he’s warring with himself on either pushing me away or dragging me in closer. I close my eyes, praying to his God that he keeps me close.

This is the most contact we’ve had in weeks, and like the pathetic woman I am, I melt into the feeling.

“You think I’mfaking, petite pécheresse?” he rasps.

Shivers scrape down my spine like sandpaper, rough and grating against my frayed nerves.

“You think this isn’t real?” He grips my hand and pulls it down until it’s covering his hard cock. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning at the feel, my pussy spasming from want.

“Fuck. You.” I rip my hand away, squirming in his hold. I can’t think with his arms around me.

The more I struggle, the more his grip tightens. “I thought you wanted the truth, Amaya. How about some more?” He leans in, his teeth nipping at my jaw.

Goose bumps sprinkle across my neck and shoulders, rippling down my spine.

“You pretend to hate me because it makes it easy. You come in here with anger as your shield, striking out before you get struck yourself.”

“No.” I shake my head, his words spearing through my chest.

“But nothing about us iseasy. And the only one in this room who’s faking anything is you.”