Reckless Love Page 47


I wanted to turn back, run down the hall, and demand that Ian tell me why. Why would he sleep with some prostitute after all we’d been through together, and after all the crap he’d said about the no-sex rule. Why was it okay now?

But I couldn’t, because Chris was right. They were both consenting adults. The fact was, I had pushed Ian away. I had no right to the feelings of betrayal and pain that brewed inside me. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. I wanted to curl into a ball and die. My heart had just been crushed.

I followed Chris into the room. As he went to the bar and poured me another glass of wine and himself a shot, I sat down on the couch, feeling dazed, and completely empty.

Chris handed me the wine and sat down, then put an arm around me and pulled me close. Realizing he was looking at me expectantly, I forced a relaxed expression and took a sip of my wine.

Although I was looking at Chris, in my mind I still saw Ian paying that woman. The one who possessively drew her hand down his bare chest. Anguish washed over me and filled me so completely that I became numb. I’d been waiting this whole time, putting Chris off, and kidding myself into thinking that once the fight was over, Ian would take me back. That we would be together, finally, in every sense of the word. But after seeing him with that woman, I knew I didn’t mean anything to Ian.

It didn’t matter anymore if I stayed away from Chris. In fact, maybe I should sleep with Chris. Maybe that was all I needed to make a clean break from Ian. Mulling it over, I took another sip of wine.

“It’s so good to finally have you alone,” he said.

Chris’s breath smelled like mouthwash and whiskey. He looked into my eyes and, even though it didn’t feel right, I told myself it didn’t matter, so I tried to smile.

He leaned in and kissed me, his lips cold and wet, then rotated his tongue around mine the same way he always did. It was so practiced and desperate that it made me feel bad for him. There was no way I could get into it, but I resigned myself to trying to let go and just seeing what happened. Maybe it would help me forget.

He slid his hands to my breasts and grabbed them, squeezing them tightly. When his fingers dug painfully into me, I pulled back.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Sorry.”

He loosened his grasp a little, but it still felt all wrong. Not only was he awkward as sin, but he did absolutely nothing for me. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to make sex with Chris good. It was something I might have worked with him on, if I actually liked him, but the truth was that I didn’t. He’d been civil to me, but I wasn’t attracted to him. And there was the little issue that he wasn’t faithful to me.

Maybe I did need a way to make a clean break from Ian, but this wasn’t it.

“Sorry, Chris. I’m not ready.” I pulled away.

“Sure, you are. We’ve been dating for months now. I know you’re no virgin.” He grabbed my hips, pulling them toward his.

“Yes, but…” I tried to pull away, but he held me firm. “I’m not feeling well.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks.” He leaned in again and kissed me as he pushed me back so that I was lying on the sofa. Fear rose up in me and I sobered up almost instantly. He grabbed my wrists and started pushing his way between my legs.

Shit, was this actually happening?

“No, Chris.” My fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and I started struggling against him.

“Chill, Kenzie,” he said. But he didn’t let go of me, instead keeping me firmly pinned to the couch. His hands circled my wrists so tightly it hurt.

“I said no!” I continued to struggle but couldn’t budge him off me, and tears welled up in my eyes. Chris had been a fighter, and I was no match for him.

The self-defense moves Ian and I had worked on came flooding back, and I instantly went to work twisting my body in the way Ian had shown me. Chris continued to hold my arms down, but I wedged my legs up between us and used the strength in my thighs to push him away just long enough to grab hold of his hands, raise my legs, and use his face as a kicking bag.

I kicked and kicked as hard as I could. I must have kicked him eight or nine times before he finally pulled away.

“You fucking bitch.” Chris fell back on the floor, holding his nose.

Frantic, I jumped up from the couch and ran out of the suite, following the signs to the exit. I found the stairwell and started running down the stairs, taking them three at a time. My eyes blurred with tears, and I whimpered as I ran down several flights, then stopped short.

Where was I going? I couldn’t stop crying, and there was no way I was going to walk through a casino hotel lobby, bawling my ass off.

I wanted to go home, but my wallet was in the room with Chris. Not that I had enough money in there to buy myself a plane ticket home. Of course, I could call Alexa and ask her to loan me the money, but my phone and her number were in the room with Chris.

Ian had his fight tomorrow so I didn’t want to bother him, but short of sleeping in this stupid stairwell, it seemed like the only option. He had Cade’s number. I could get in touch with Alexa that way, and maybe I could still get out of here tonight.

I made my way back up the steps to our floor and silently crept down the hall to Ian’s room. Although I’d managed to stop crying, my heart beat rapidly. I didn’t like being back on the same floor with Chris.

As I knocked on Ian’s door, I kept an eye on the door to the suite.

Thirty-Nine

Ian

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