"And what if I don't?"
"You're just wasting your time."
"I'm willing to bet I'm not, but if you want to be delusional, fine with me." He pressed his chest against me and brought his face closer to mine. "I wasn't sorry for what we did, Mac. I'll never be sorry for that. I'm only sorry you felt guilty about it afterward."
"If you cared about me at all like you claim, you'd back off, Alex."
He huffed in an amused laughter. "That's one thing you should learn about me, Mac. I don't back off on something I want." He gripped my chin with his thumb. "I was trying to get you out of my mind, and I failed miserably. The only thing I want from you is you. I don't need to parade you around like a little trophy wife or show you off to my friends. Once you see that, you'll change your mind." He dropped his hand and stepped back, walking away with the last word. It didn't matter anyway. I had nothing left to say.
I DECIDED TO order in and hide in my bedroom all night. I was seething over Alex's last words. He had insinuated William treated me like a trophy wife, and I hadn't even had enough courage to fight back. I never once thought that, but hearing it from Alex's mouth set something off inside me, and it had me wondering if that's how the rest of society saw me, too.
I ordered Sushi from a place nearby and watched The Holiday on Netflix. Before I met William, I used to watch it when I was down or went through fazes of self-pity. Now I was in the mood to watch it because it usually cheered me up. And I needed some cheering up.
It was when Graham-Jude Law-knocked on Cameron Diaz's door and they met for the first time that I remembered marking Alex that night. I had seen the evidence on his backside, but no memory of doing it.
I remembered seeing his face above mine, his body covering me. I dug my fingers up and down the length of his ass and back. My legs were spread for him, arching as he sank deeper and deeper inside me.
I sat up in bed as the memory came back to me …
"God, I love it when you do that, Mac," he growled, nipping lightly against the flesh of my ear. It sent a shiver down my body as I arched my hips up to greet his eager thrusts.
"I'm marking you for all the other girls who try to get near you," I said, giggling lightly, but entirely serious.
He slowed his rhythm, bringing his head to mine so our eyes were now locked. "Sweetheart, if I had you, I'd have no reason to be with another girl for the rest of my life."
I squinted, needing to make sure this guy was for real. I blushed before responding, "You're just saying that … although you don't have to...I'm already underneath you."
He laughed lightly, moving against me again. "I'm not, Mac. You really are a sweet thing. So fucking gorgeous and perfect. I can't believe another man hasn't claimed you yet."
I soaked up the feeling I had felt while we were together. I tried to remember what I said after that, but nothing was coming to me. All I could remember were my nails digging into him and his body responding by fucking me harder. I felt a familiar ache in between my legs just thinking about it and wished I could go back in time to fix everything.
Did I tell him? Did I tell him I had a fiancé? And if he knew, why'd he let us continue?
I JUMPED IN my sleep, feeling hot and cold at the same time. I felt my stomach twist and immediately ran to the bathroom. Everything I had eaten earlier was threatening to come back up the second I threw the covers off the bed.
I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom and aimed for the toilet. My body shook as I tried to keep my hair back. I couldn't contain the sounds my throat made as the sushi came out.
I started crying at the pain, my throat burning and my body aching as I knelt on the cold floor. I stopped heaving for a moment, just long enough to grab some toilet paper and wipe my mouth before my stomach turned and started all over again.
Before I could grip my hair again, a hand came to my neck and twisted my hair out of my hands and out of my way. I knew it was Alex by the way his body felt against mine. His scent hit me and another round began.
He grabbed the hand towel within reach and rubbed it gently against my mouth. I didn't look at him, I couldn't. This was so embarrassing, and I didn't want him to see me like this.
"Go away," I mumbled, keeping my head down. My stomach wasn't done with me yet.
"Shh … "
"Alex … leave."
"I'm not going anywhere, princess. You're sick and you need help." How did he even hear me?
"I'm fine," I choked out, my throat closing up and burning with acid.
He wrapped my hair in one fist, keeping it off my neck as the other hand rubbed gently on my cheek. "It's comical you think I'm actually going to listen to you. You need someone here and since I'm the only one actually here, you're just going to have to let that someone be me."
Damn him. I didn't want him to be that someone.
Liar.
After one last stomach eruption, I finally started to feel better. He released my hair and walked away to wet a washcloth. When he returned, I finally turned to look at him.
Bad idea.
He was only wearing a pair of loose-fitting sweats. My heart ached as I took him in. I didn't want to be attracted to him, but clearly, I was. I didn't want my body to react to his, but it was something I couldn't help.
Being attracted to him was dangerous.
Temptation was an evil bitch.
"Here, you're burning up." He pressed it to my forehead and my eyes closed in response. It felt amazing on my skin. I hadn't realized I had a fever until now.
"Thanks," I whispered, keeping my eyes closed. I breathed in slowly, bringing my hand up to his pressing on the washcloth. I expected him to drop his hand, but he didn't.
"Look at me," he demanded, his voice hoarse. I shook my head. Looking at him would be a horrible idea. He dropped his hand-my heart beat speeding up when he didn't back away. "Open your eyes, Mac."
His voice was pleading as he said my name, begging me to listen. I inhaled slowly and decided I'd have to face him eventually. As I exhaled, I opened my eyes to him staring intently at me. His expression was tense, but as soon as we locked eyes, his face softened.
"That's better." He smiled as he continued to rub my cheek. "Are you all right now?"
I dropped my hand, holding onto the washcloth and squeezed it between my fingers. This was awkward and uncomfortable, and I just needed out of there.
"Yeah, thanks. Just something I ate probably." I shrugged, hoping it satisfied him, but as soon as I said those words, my stomach started doing somersaults again.
"Okay, good. I'm going to go find some Tylenol and 7-Up for you. Wait here." He pushed back on his knees and stood up.
"No, I'm fine, really-"
"Shut up, Mac," I heard him say as he walked out of the bathroom.
As soon as he left, I turned toward the toilet again. Another wave hit me and there wasn't anything I could do about it. My stomach cramped and soon, I was only heaving and gagging.
God, this was so humiliating.
I heard his steps rush back to me, his body next to my side again. I didn't have the energy to speak or push him away, so I just tried to ignore him. He began rubbing my back, slowly and softly as my throat burned, and I felt the intense need to scratch it out.
He pulled my hair back again, soothing me as he continued to rub my back as I sank to the floor. I wiped my mouth on the towel again and surrendered.
"C'mon, Mac. You need to lie down."
I groaned, mumbling something inaudible.
"All right, hang on," he said quickly, but before I could register his words, I felt his one arm wrap under my legs and the other took my waist. He lifted me to his chest and began carrying me out of the bathroom. "You look like shit."
I heard the amusement in his tone, but at that moment, I wanted to punch him in the face.
He placed me on my bed and tucked my legs under the covers. My body felt so heavy, too heavy to move on my own. I let him adjust me and prop my head on the pillow.
"Mac, you need to take your shirt off. It's filled with spit and vomit."
"No … " I cried, turning my head away from him. I didn't have the energy to change shirts right now. I heard his footsteps walk away and return in under thirty seconds.
"Can you sit up?"
"No."
"Can you lift your arms?"
"No."
"You're killing me, Mac. I'm trying to be decent here." I could hear the struggle in his tone, but honestly, I didn't care. My body felt too awful to care about wearing a dirty shirt.
He sat on the bed next to me and lifted my body up to his. He pulled the hem of my shirt and started pulling it up toward my head. I yanked my arms down, not wanting him to see my bare chest, but he just pulled harder.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before, keep your arms up," he demanded.