Page 109 of The True Garza

The word feels sour on my tongue. Goosebumps raise on my skin, and my chest tightens as if in allergic reaction to it.

“Okay.” He gives a sharp nod, his fork stabbing at a cube of roasted potato. “Didn’t know it was that serious.”

It’s not. I just don’t want to get in any deeper with you. “Thank you for the meal. Your mom’s an excellent cook.”

A throat grunt is all I receive in response.

This is starting to feel like The Last Supper.

A minute later, his phone rings and he excuses himself from the table to take the call. He’s gone off far enough that I can’t make out his words, but his tone is clipped and curt, impatient. That change in his mood might be all on me, but I don’t feel bad about it. If I keep giving in to True, he’ll run right over me, and I’ll be the one left flattened and useless in the end.

My phone buzzes inside my leather jacket, and I get it out to see it’s a text from Dennis.

Dennis: Hey gorgeous. Are you off work yet?

Me: Yeah, but not home yet.

Dennis: I was hoping we could grab a late bite?

Me: Can’t tonight. I’m gonna be out for a bit.

Dennis: OK. Let me know when you’re home. I want to see that beautiful face before bed.

Me: Will do.

“Does he know you’re still fucking me?”

Startled, I glance over my shoulder to find True standing behind me, glaring down at my phone. I hit the power button and return it to my jacket pocket. “That’s none of your business.”

In the next second, his fingers are wrapped around my throat and my head is jerked back so I’m looking at him upside down. His eyes are dark and singed with something fierce, possessive. He’s so fucking angry at me, I can taste it. For the first time tonight, I regret wearing jeans. How easy it would’ve been for him to slam me onto this table, rip my panties aside, and take that anger out on me. Fill me to the brim with it.

“Poor guy courts you and tells you all the pretty things you want to hear,” he growls, “and then you come to me and ride my cock to kingdom come.” His fingers tighten around my throat.Yes. Tighter.“You spread so fucking wide for me, begging me to go deeper, choking my cock with your sweet, tight cunt.” He lowers his mouth to my ear and bites my lobe before whispering roughly, “‘Do you think that’s fair?’”

“That’s why…you and I…won’t be fucking…anymore,” I manage to squeeze past the grip of his fingers.

His eyes flash. “Are you in that much of a hurry for marriage, a white picket fence, and baby strollers?”

“No…Your time is just…up.”

At that, his nostrils flare. “Fuck you, London.”

A smile tugs at my lips, and I wink at him. “You wish.”

Cursing under his breath, he lets go of me. Then growls up at the sky, “You drive mefuckingcrazy, you know that?”

“Let’s just stop, True.” I rub my throat, longing for his fingers to be there again. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”

“Don’t tell me what I know,” he mutters quietly.

My body is so ripe and ready for sex right now, it’s embarrassing. If he pushed just a little bit harder, I’d cave. Strip naked on this roof and let him do whatever he wants with me. That’s how weak I am for him.

“Are you gonna finish eating?” I ask.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

“It’s our last night together,” he says, pulling me up from the chair. “Dance with me.”