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Dante

I was a fucking bastard, and I knew it.

I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have degraded her and then left her. But I panicked.

I’m man enough to admit it.

There was something about that woman that brought out the worst in me.

Whenever me and Laura argued, she would turn on the waterworks, using her tears as a weapon to get her own way.

Rachel hadn’t done that, no matter what I did to her.

She gave as good as she got, and there was something so fucking sexy about that smart mouth – even if it did drive me so crazy that I could hit her.

She was nothing like I had expected her to be.

In the Greasy Spoon, she had looked sweet and innocent.

And yet, I was happier with the Rachel I was given.

She was fiery, and she was infuriating. She was sexy, and she was a mind-fuck.

She intrigued me, and she drove me mad. I hated her, and yet I couldn’t get enough of her.

I hated that she had an answer for everything. I hated that she always had to pick a fight. I hated that she wasn’t scared and gave as good as she got.

I hated that I fucking loved all those things.

I hated that I no longer knew how I felt.

I wanted Rachel, because I figured she’d look after Bee and let me live my life as I pleased. She’d be too submissive to fight back. I didn’t care if she was happy or cared about me in the slightest.

And now all I wanted was for her to smile. All I wanted was for the words to be on her lips, telling me how much she wanted me, how much she wanted to be with me.

I should have been patient. I should have done my research on her. I should have done a background check.

I should have done a lot of things differently.

Because now I was left with a woman who surprised me in all the best ways. A woman who challenged me. A woman who gets a rise out of me without even trying. A woman who I was struggling to see my life without.

And that gave her power over me.

And I was man enough to admit that scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

She drives me mad. She drives me to the point of destruction. And yet I can’t stay away. She’s all I think about. She’s all I want to think about.

And I fucking hated that. I hated her. And yet I was obsessed with her.

So I ran away. I looked down at her, her eyes wide as she took my cock. The same eyes so full of passion and arousal, and my heart leapt in affection.

All the research and background checks in the world could not have prepared me for that.

Even when we were arguing, even when she was spitting poison and venom at me, I wanted her.

I’d spend every day annoying her, if only it meant I had her attention for five minutes.

I was in too deep, with a woman who couldn’t stand to be near me unless I was fucking her.

I hated that, and I hated her.

But I didn’t hate her. Not anymore. Not even a little.

I was obsessed. Enthralled. Enchanted.

I was fucked.