“That wasn’t the deal.”
“I’m changing the deal.”
“I…I don’t know. That, in there. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I am.”
“I think it was exactly who you are. You just needed someone to let it out of you.”
She lapsed into silence. My mind was filled with thoughts of her. I could still taste her on my tongue, the sweetness of her pussy, the look of her ass as I’d pushed a finger into it, the way she’d writhed when she came over and over again. We couldn’t just stop at one night.
“I want you,” I said, the words heavy in the darkness. “Stay with me tonight.”
“I want to go home,” she replied after a pause. “I’m sorry, I need to go home.”
“Fine,” I snapped, pressing the accelerator down to the floor. I raced back to Scarton, skidding to a halt outside her house. “Go then.”
“Don’t be angry, please,” she said, turning to look at me. “It’s just…it’s a lot to take in.”
“Out.”
I was fuming. I’d shown her a whole new world, a world that she’d loved. And now instead of being grateful, she’d acted as if I’d done her harm. She had sorrow and anger on her face as she got out of the car but it was nothing compared to the fury that was bubbling up inside me. How could she react like that after everything I’d done for her? I couldn’t stand it. I raced off, leaving her stood on the pavement.
I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I drove. Did she not know what a big deal it was for me to invite her to stay? I’d never invited anyone to stay at my house before. I’d opened up my heart, damaged as it was, to her and instead of accepting me, she’d told she wanted to go home. Damn her, I thought. And damn me. I had to have her. I couldn’t leave it, not now, not after seeing her in ecstasy on the floor beneath me, not after coming inside her. She would be mine.
I thought the opposite by the time I climbed into bed. I didn’t want her. She didn’t deserve what I had to offer. She was too innocent, too young, too naive to bring into my life. I was bad for her. She clearly regretted what she’d done. I struggled to get to sleep and I kept waking up in the night, each time thinking something different. I was going to make her mine. I wanted nothing to do with her ever again. I was losing control. I hated losing control.
At four in the morning, I sat in the kitchen with a mug of black coffee, thinking hard. Why did she make me so angry? Because I wanted her. How would I feel if I never saw her again? Devastated. What did that mean? Say it. Say it. Say it!
I’m falling for her. Good, now what does that mean? That I don’t turn my back on her. That I tell her how I feel.
But feelings are bad, they make you vulnerable. They lead to pain. Pain that is too much. Pain that needs locking away and ignoring.
Deal with it, I told myself. You can deal with anything. You’re not the weak little child you once were. You are George Atherton and what you want, you get. If you want her, you get her. You make her see who she really is and you get her and you do not give up until you have her.
TWENTY-ONE
DONNA
I cried myself to sleep that night. How could I make him understand that I wanted him so much and that was why I couldn’t stay at his house? There were no words that would explain it adequately and instead I’d left it the worst possible way. I’d rejected him when I wanted him more than ever and he’d raced away from my house, looking like he never wanted to see me again.
How could I possibly have told him the truth? That I was weak, that I was broken, that I was damaged. I’d come out of a relationship with a man who’d hurt me more so deeply, I never expected to want anyone again. Then George came along, throwing a huge spanner into my plans. I hadn’t planned to fall for someone so quickly. But the club, everything that had happened there, it had woken me up. It had also woken up a lot of old memories, memories that I’d kept locked away.
If I’d gone to his house, if I’d stayed the night, there was no way I would have been able to keep things under control. I’d have cried. He’d have asked why. I’d have had to tell him and then he’d have seen me for the damaged little freak I was and wanted nothing more to do with me. Damaged goods, Darren had called me and he was right. That’s all I was. George was better off without someone like me. Someone who wanted sex and wanted never to have sex, who was ashamed of her desire while needing to submit. It was all too much and I sobbed on my pillow as I laid there, my body aching from everything that had been done to me in the club.