The carpeting in the hotel room rose under Mitchell’s shoes, and he stumbled through the open door and into Arielle’s room.
Yeah, he was a little drunk because he’d tried to blunt the sharp edge of his anger that kept cutting him inside.
And it had to be anger, right? Anger was what guys felt. He must be angry with Arielle, not heartbroken, not grief-stricken.
Arielle stood holding the door open, still wearing that incredible silver dress that clung to her curves and made him itch to tear it off her like foil off a candy bar. Damn, she was a beautiful woman, with or without all that makeup and tinsel.
He grabbed her around the waist and whirled her around, shoving her against the wall and smothering her mouth with his.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she kissed him back.
Taking her against the wall again seemed predictable, and Mitchell was anything but predictable, dammit. He spun her again, lifting her under her knees and waist, carrying her like they were crossing a threshold. Her jaw was still set with anger, and her nose and eyelids were pink and puffy.
He settled her on the bed and followed her down, his body pressing hers into the softness of the hotel room mattress.
The furious energy twitching in his body made him want to attack her, to flip her over and drag her ass into the air, driving his dick into her and slapping his hips against her ass cheeks to punish her, but the sadness in her eyes stopped him.
Damn, he hated to see that, and he hated the asshole who had made her cry.
Mitchell gentled himself, kissing her more gently, and he stroked her temple with his thumb.
When he unzipped the shining silver of her dress down her back, he kissed her flesh as it was revealed. He caressed every inch of her skin, trying to show with his hands that he wanted her to smile, to be happy, to feel joy every minute of her life.
But the thing she’d said the previous night echoed in his head, and she was right. She’d begged him to break the contract because she couldn’t. Her parents’ financial position was so precarious that she had to help them.
He’d told her the truth last night, that if the only way he could be around her was if he were forcing her to be there, he’d take her hate and anger rather than lose her.
Because he couldn’t lose her.
If he knew that she was gone from his life, that he would never see her again, the jagged slashes through his heart would consume him.
He wouldn’t break her door down. He wouldn’t force or demand or coerce.
But he would knock, and he’d give her a choice of whether to open the door or not.
And he wouldn’t break the contract.
He would take whatever she could give him, even if it wasn’t love.
And so he was gentle with her that night, touching and stroking her until she was mindless and writhing, and then he sank inside her as if his soul was trying to touch hers. He moved slowly, bringing her to a peak with deliberate precision, his breath mingling with hers as he looked into her eyes because any more vulnerability would have broken him.
Her body clenched around him, and she arched and closed her eyes, crying out. Her pulse matched his heartbeat, and his body quickened as his soul became fire and the world dropped away.
When his mind returned, he was clutching her, his forehead pressed against hers.
Emotion choked his throat, and he couldn’t speak. It was better that he couldn’t talk because she hated him. If he said what he felt, it might drive her to break the contract, and even this interlude would end.
Arielle’s eyes squeezed shut, and her breath caught in her throat. “That’s not fair. It’s not fair to touch me like that and make me believe.”
He tugged himself out of her, grabbing the condom and then getting rid of it. When he turned back, she’d rolled over to the far edge of the bed, clutching the sheets around herself. “I can’t handle the lies. I can’t handle it when you lie to me, even when you lie with your body. We keep getting deeper and deeper into these lies. I never thought I would do something like this. I need you to leave right now.”
Mitchell sat on the other side of the bed, torn between telling her more lies, like how it was all just physical, or telling her the truth that would definitely drive her away.
In the end, he picked up his clothes and dressed. Then he went back to his own hotel room, where he stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to sleep.