Because He Torments Me (11 page)
Read Because He Torments Me Online
Authors: Hannah Ford
“Yeah, well, you broke it.”
I shrugged, trying to lighten the
situation.
And then I
remembered.
Rose.
The girl who’d shown up
at the restaurant that day, the whispered conversation on the balcony in
Florida.
“Do you have a
girlfriend?” I asked.
“Is that what
this is about?”
“What?
God, no.”
I looked around the room.
“Then why did you bring me here?”
“What?”
“This obviously isn’t where you live,
Callum.
This is obviously some kind
of bachelor pad, some kind of secret love nest where you take women so you can
tie them to your bed and fuck them.”
He didn’t answer, and I knew I was right.
“So what am I supposed to think?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Then why didn’t we go to your apartment?”
“I don’t fuck in my apartment.”
My eyes widened.
“What?”
“I don’t fuck in my apartment.
Here, the club, Florida, hotel rooms… those
are the places I fuck.”
“But why?” I asked softly.
“I don’t understand.”
He sat down next to me and took my hand back in
his, kissed each one of my fingers softly.
“It’s too intimate for me, Adriana, to have a woman at my apartment.”
His gaze moved over my face, searching
for a reaction.
“I have never admitted
that to anyone.
But I want you to
understand me.
I want you to know
me.”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with pain, and
I had the sensation of being pulled under by a riptide, that I was giving
myself over to something dangerous and unknown.
“Tell me,” I said.
“Make me understand.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I need to have control over everything, every
aspect of my life,” he said.
“When
I don’t, bad things happen.”
I paused, turning this new bit of information
over in my mind.
“Is that why you
don’t drink?”
He nodded.
“I’ve lost things in my life, important things because of alcohol.
I cannot be around it.
And I cannot be around someone who
drinks.”
“Okay.”
I swallowed.
“And that girl,
the one from the restaurant?
Rose?
Is
she…
I mean, are you two…
”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“She’s a
friend.”
“A friend who shows up and screams that you’re
a bad person?”
“Adriana,” he said.
“You don’t understand. Even now,
right now, I’m resisting the urge to push you away, to walk out that door and
never see you again.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Do you not want to see me again?”
“No, I do.
Too much.
That’s the problem.
I can’t
stay away from you, and I’m….” He turned to me, wrapped his arms around my
waist and pulled me into his lap.
“I’m
not what you need.”
“How do you know what I need?” I murmured.
“I know what you deserve.
Someone who will commit to
you,
will do the whole romantic, boyfriend,
sweep-you-off-your-feet thing.”
“And you can’t?”
He shook his head.
“I would have to control you,” he said,
his fingers working their way over my collarbone.
“
Everything
about
you.
Who you saw, how you
dressed, how we fucked.
There
would be consequences.
Punishments
if you disobeyed me.”
“I like being punished by you,” I said.
His lips tugged into a half smile.
“This would be more intense than
that.
It would be like this, only
all the time.
Constant.
I would own you, be in charge of your
life, your body, your soul.
You
would belong to me and me only.”
“But why?” I said.
“Why does it have to be that way?”
“It’s what I need,” he said simply.
He kissed me softly, and then he pulled
back.
His fingers brushed against the back my neck as
we stared into each other’s eyes.
I couldn’t tell if he was asking me to do those
things, making me an offer, or if he was just telling me why we couldn’t be
together, as if it was already an accepted fact.
I was about to ask him, but before I could, he
stood up, grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the couch.
“Come,” he said.
“Let’s go to bed.”
He led me back to the bedroom, and lifted up
the comforter, waiting for me to lie down before sliding into bed next to me.
He wrapped his arms around me and I curved
myself into him, my back against his chest.
He brushed my hair from my neck and his lips
found the top of my spine.
I
shivered as his hands moved over me, exploring the curves of my body.
He grabbed the bottom of the t-shirt I
was wearing and pulled it off me.
“I want you naked,” he said. “I need to feel
all of you.” His hand moved over the swell of my hip and then he pulled me back
toward him.
His chest pushed against my back, and here, in
his arms, I had the same feeling I’d had in Florida as we’d fallen asleep.
This is how it feels to be truly happy.
I was content.
I was safe.
Ask me, Callum,
I thought.
Ask me to be yours.
In that moment, as insane as it was, I would
have given him anything he wanted, would have promised him anything he asked or
required of me.
All I wanted was this feeling to last, this
perfect feeling of calm and possibility and protection.
But he didn’t ask.
After a moment, I heard his breathing deepen.
I didn’t think I would be able to fall asleep.
But I did, rather quickly, drifting off into a
deep, dreamless sleep that surrounded me like a blanket.
When I woke up, the sounds of the city morning
blared through the windows, along with the harsh glare of the sun.
I sat up and looked around, blinking in the
invading light.
But the spot next to me on the bed was empty.
I listened for the sound of the shower, for the
sound of plates in the kitchen, anything that would make it clear someone was
there.
But there was nothing.
Callum was gone.
And this time, I had a feeling he wasn’t coming
back.
END OF BOOK THREE –
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