Wrecking Ball, page 4
“I’m warning you, Kat––”
“Warn me all you like, Nate, it won’t change me, and it won’t change who I am. You married a potty mouth, so fucking what? I married a monster against my will, so I guess that makes us even… you forced me into this, and I say the word fuck. Not a bad deal for you, if you ask me,” I say, the bitterness now taking over everything I feel. See, emotionally unstable. One minute hot and fiery, the next bitter and twisted, and then the next, sad and lonely. Fuck my life.
He grinds his hips against me and damn if it doesn’t make me want him whilst hating him.
I grab hold of his hips and try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.
“Stop fighting this, Kat,” he says, his eyes boring into mine.
“Never,” I say with determination. “I will never stop fighting against you.”
“One day you will,” he says as his hands cover mine. He grips them, and in one swift move, my hands are above my head, his holding them in place, his body crushing mine against the wall. Damn my fucking panties for becoming wet. I don’t want this… or do I? Maybe fucking him will help with some of my pent-up frustration? I mean, it’s been months since I’ve been intimate with a guy… maybe I just need some kind of release to lighten my load?
“And what makes you so sure of that?” I say as I try to quench the need to have his dick inside me.
“Because I see it inside of you. That fire. That burn. That ache for something more.”
“Pfft,” I scoff, but he isn’t wrong. Fuck.
“And right now, I know that you’re wet for me, waiting for me to take you, claim you and make you feral with desire.”
“You don’t know shit––”
“MOUTH,” he shouts loudly, making me jump. “I know more than you think, Kat. Never underestimate me.”
“Back at you, baby,” I say in a sickly-sweet tone, that damn smirk back on my face. “You think I don’t see the way that you look at me? You want me, but you don’t get to have me, because I hate you, husband.” I inject some venom into my tone, fighting every single urge to smash my lips against his.
Now it’s his turn to smirk at me. “Good, because in order to love me, you need to hate me first.” And with that, he lets go of me, steps away and disappears down the hallway and into his bedroom, leaving me asking for the millionth time, “What the fuck?”
Chapter Seven
Kat
One a.m.
I’ve been led here for hours, tossing and turning, replaying Nate’s words over and over in my head on a fucking loop.
“Good, because in order to love me, you need to hate me first.”
What the hell does that mean?
Why did he say it?
And why am I obsessing over it?
“Argh,” I say out loud as I turn onto my front, burying my face in the pillow, willing my mind to just stop. But it doesn’t and I’m soon out of the bed and splashing cold water on my face in my ensuite.
“Fucking man,” I say to the mirror, wishing that I could vent my frustration somewhere, anywhere, anything to try and relieve the ache inside of me to know the answers to my questions.
The last six months have been so vague, despite him coming in and flipping my world upside down. I moved in, played the part when needed, but apart from that, nothing, nada, and I am so sick of getting nothing.
I dry my face, a new determination coursing through me.
He can’t leave me high and dry like this.
I need answers, and I need them now.
* * *
Nate
I stand at the window of my bedroom, staring out across the grounds, just watching the stars twinkling in the sky.
That fucking woman drives me crazy.
I know that I’m probably being unfair, but I’m Nate Knowles, and no one makes me feel bad… until her.
I run my hands through my hair in frustration. The way her body felt against mine earlier was like nothing else, and that was with clothes on and her hating my very existence. Imagine if she loved me. Imagine the fucking fire that would ignite between us then.
My thoughts are interrupted by my bedroom door banging into the wall. I turn, and there she is, looking like a beautiful goddess, albeit a pissed off goddess, but a goddess all the same. Christ, her eyes are blazing, and I can just picture us going at it on the bed, on the floor, against the wall, any-fucking-where…
“What the fuck was that?” she says as she marches towards me in her itty-bitty shorts and tight tank top. Fucking hell, she’s never looked so damn fine. Make-up free and all natural, she exudes the power of a red-blooded female, and I absolutely wish that she would give up the pretence of not wanting me, because together, we would be fucking dynamite.
I wait until she is stood in front of me, tits pushed forward, hands on her curvy hips, one foot tapping away as she awaits my answer.
“Watch your goddamn mouth,” I scold her, and I relish in the way her eyes narrow on me. I fucking love making her mad because I’m a sucker for the blaze in her eyes when I do.
“Answer the damn question, Nate,” she says, her tone all kinds of pissed off.
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to ask me.”
“What happened earlier in the hallway? What exactly was that?” she says, and I can see the determination coursing through her.
Fuck yeah, baby, give me everything you’ve got.
“That was simply a husband and wife having a discussion,” I reply, my face deadpan.
“No, don’t do that,” she says as she points her finger in my face. “Don’t stand there and make out that it was nothing.”
“Well, if you’re so sure that it was something more, why don’t you enlighten me?”
She huffs, throwing her hands up. “Argh, you’re so fucking annoying.”
“MOUTH,” I say to her, raising my voice.
“Why do you have such an issue with me swearing?”
“I already told you,” I say in a low voice.
“Yeah, yeah, because your wife should be respected, blah, blah, blah.”
Oh, fuck me, she really does have a way of getting under my skin. I’m going to have to find a way to keep her mouth in check… maybe putting my dick in it will help?
“It’s not a good enough reason, and I call bullshit on all these goddamn rules you seem to throw out when you feel like it,” she continues, and I stay quiet as she works herself into some sort of frenzy. “I am my own person. Despite what you say, you do not own me, and I can say and do whatever the hell I want.
“You don’t get to be an asshole and then show me a moment of affection like you did earlier at our wedding reception, you don’t get to trap me in this life without giving me an explanation––”
“Except I can, and I have,” I interrupt her, and fuck if the fire doesn’t blaze in her eyes a bit more.
“And it’s not right. None of this right,” she fumes. “I don’t want to be some little wifey that keeps her mouth shut and gets down on her knees when it suits you. That’s not me, Nate. I don’t know how to do this…” Her voice trails off and it’s like she’s stuck in her own torment. I can see the frustration and confusion on her face. She doesn’t know what to feel, and as her husband, maybe I should make that right? Or is it too soon? I have no fucking clue, but I know that I don’t yet own her soul, and that is something I need because I am a fucking control freak, and when I love, I love hard, so giving her my heart is going to require more than what she is giving me.
“I can’t be this person. I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind and I don’t know how to stop it,” she carries on speaking, her eyes focussed on the wall behind me. “Six months I’ve been here, and not once have you shown me affection like you did today, and I don’t know what to do with that.” Her head drops and I feel something uncomfortable stir inside of me. Christ, what is that? Compassion? Guilt? Fuck no, it can’t be…
“I don’t want to feel like I’m just here for your amusement. I don’t want to be treated like some good little pet that may get the odd pat on the back for behaving themselves. I can’t do it, and I don’t want to.
“This isn’t how my wedding night was supposed to be. It was supposed to be magical, one night where my husband showed me how much he loved me, and vice versa. I wasn’t meant to be sleeping in a room on my own whilst my husband was in another.”
I said I wanted to break her, and I think I’m starting to witness it happening. It’s sooner than I expected, but something has made her crumble tonight. I’ve made her crumble tonight. For her, I’ve taken away her dreams and replaced them with a nightmare that she will be living for the rest of her days. Because she is never leaving me, and I will make damn sure of it. The only thing is, am I ready to end her nightmare and be the man that she deserves?
My body makes the decision for me as I move towards her, taking her face in my hands and tilting her head up to look at me.
“Don’t,” she says as she tries to shrug out of my hold, but all that does is make me hold onto her a little bit tighter.
“Kat––”
“No,” she says, and this time she rips herself away from me, moving a few steps back. “You can’t do this to me, Nate.”
“So you’ve said, but I’m not doing anything.”
“You are,” she says, and more tears start to fall down her face. “But you’re too stubborn to see it.”
It’s the last thing she says to me before she turns and walks out of the bedroom door, closing it quietly behind her.
Chapter Eight
Nate
“You’ve been here for a couple of weeks now; don’t you think that you should drop the hostility a little bit?” I say to Kat as she sits opposite me at the dining table, picking at her food.
“I play the part when you need me to, but here, behind closed doors, I will act the way I want,” she retorts, spearing a piece of asparagus onto her fork angrily.
“You should be grateful,” I throw out at her, and her fork slams down onto her plate.
Our eyes meet, and I can see that she would love to throttle me right about now.
“Grateful?” she says, her voice going high-pitched. “Fucking grateful? Are you shitting me?”
“For fuck’s sake, Kat, watch your language,” I scold her, my blood boiling at her use of profanities. She rolls her eyes and huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in the chair.
“You know, you could have picked a woman who was easier to handle,” she mumbles before adding, “Just saying.”
“Trouble is, no one else owed me a debt.” I smirk, loving how she makes me feel alive inside. I’ve been dead inside for a long time, fuelled by my work and running a tight ship… It’s good to feel emotion over something––or someone––else.
“That damn debt,” she says quietly, but I hear her loud and clear.
“Look,” I begin, placing my knife and fork down and giving her my full attention. “This doesn’t have to be hard, Kat. We could have a great life together, but you need to stop shutting me out and start thinking of me as exactly what I am.”
“An asshole?” she questions with a grin, and fuck if it doesn’t make me want to burst into laughter and carry her to the bedroom like a caveman to shag her senseless.
“Your husband-to-be,” I say, smug as fuck.
She scoffs and takes a sip of her drink. She has a glass of red wine whilst I have a cold, crisp lager.
“So, husband-to-be, how exactly do you want this to play out?” she asks, her eyes looking at me over the rim of her glass as she takes another sip.
“Well, for starters, we could get to know one another a little better, that’s usually how things progress.”
“Okay,” she says, putting her wine glass down and sitting forward, her arms resting on the table in front of her as she holds my stare. “Hi, I’m Kat, my dick of an ex-boyfriend left me to face the music for a debt he needed me to take because he was a selfish jerk. I have no family left because they either died or upped and left. I like dogs, my favourite colour is red, and I hate people telling me what to do,” she finishes, and then sits silent, waiting for me to make my next move.
“Good to know,” I say with a nod of my head before divulging a few things to her. “My name is Nate, I’m a successful businessman, feared by most, and I love the power of who I am. I’ve worked my ass off to be the person I am today, and I won’t ever let anyone take my empire away from me. I have a sister, parents are both dead, and I hate cats. My favourite colour is black, much like my soul, and I too hate being told what to do.”
“Huh. Well, I guess that’s going to make things interesting then, isn’t it?” she says, and I see a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“It sure is.”
That meal was five months ago, but it seems longer somehow, the memory of it abruptly entering my head whilst drinking my morning coffee. Her fire, her spunk, it’s one of the things that attracted me to her. I saw it that very first day, even as she asked me for money. I’ve always been a pretty good judge of character, and I got her spark spot on.
I didn’t sleep much last night, tossing and turning, replaying her being in my room over and over again. It could have been so different. It could have been everything she wanted on her wedding night and more, but it wasn’t, and here I am now, waiting to see how fiery my wife is going to be this morning.
I don’t have to wait long as she waltzes into the kitchen and goes straight to the coffee machine, ignoring me completely as I sit at the table and watch her.
She is fucking perfection in tight skinny jeans and a sheer white blouse, with white heels to match. Her hair is hanging in loose waves down her back, and I think about how good it would feel to have her hair wrapped around my fist as I fucked her from behind.
She tinkers with the machine, setting it up and placing a mug underneath the ridiculously expensive contraption that I just had to have because caffeine is one of my vices, and there isn’t anything worse than a shitty cup of coffee.
“Good morning, wife,” I say to her back as the machine pours her coffee before she clicks it off and takes the mug, turning to look at me and leaning back on the worktop. She’s got make-up on, but she doesn’t need it. She’s gorgeous with or without it.
“Morning,” she says in an icy tone, her eyes focussed on mine.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask her.
“Oh yeah, like a goddamn rock,” she replies sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. “You?”
“Not bad.” I’m not giving her anything more because she doesn’t need to know that I spent the night thinking about her and me against the wall, in the shower, in my bed…
“So, husband, what’s the plan today? I mean, newlyweds and all, shouldn’t we be swooning over one another and strolling hand-in-hand wherever we go?” Oh, that sarcasm is fierce this morning, and I absolutely love it.
“Is that what you want to do?” I ask her as I finish my coffee and take the mug over to the sink, placing it in the bowl before turning towards her.
“What?”
I slowly take steps to where she is still leant against the worktop. “Spend the day hand-in-hand, swooning over each other,” I say as I come to a stop in front of her, my hands going either side of her, caging her in. I lean in close, my face a whisker from hers. The tension between us is unreal, and I wish to God that she would just give in and let me take her, right here, right now.
She scoffs but it holds no ground with me. I see that she wants me, it’s right there, in her eyes. She can’t hide it from me.
“A nice meal, a few glasses of wine and then a stroll through the park, stopping every few seconds because we can’t keep our hands off of one another. And when our lips meet, it will be like nothing else exists,” I whisper, the tension ramping up a few notches, her breathing a little deeper.
“You’re fucking with me, right?” she whispers back as she tries to give me a death stare and fails.
“Not if that’s what you want to do.”
“No thanks,” she replies before she dips down and under my arm, escaping me. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out,” she throws over her shoulder before she disappears into the hallway, taking her coffee with her.
Huh. So I guess the emotional moment from last night has passed.
This is going to be fun.
* * *
Kat
“Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick,” I repeat as I make my way back to my bedroom, thoroughly pissed off with the way that Nate speaks to me. Who does he think he is? Fucking smug bastard.
He thinks that he can get in my knickers, and that is never happening, even if my traitorous body thinks different. I can feel my pussy tingling whenever he gets close, but fuck if she’s getting any from him.
I take a big mouthful of my coffee before placing it on the bedside table and sitting on my bed, throwing myself back dramatically as I stare at the ceiling.
I’m pissed, angry, mad.
I’m mad at myself for wanting him.
I’m angry at him for things being the way they are between us. The hot and cold, the push and pull, the arrogance of him needing to get his own way all the damn time.
And I’m pissed that he saw me at my most vulnerable last night.
I need to get out of here and clear my head, but I have nowhere to go and no one to call. What a pathetic life. I mean, look at me, thirty-two years old, no friends, no family, just a husband that fucking infuriates me, a husband who I despise and want to fuck at the same time, and nothing in this life to fill me with hope.
How did it come to this?
I feel my eyes burn with unshed tears and I angrily blink them away. Crying will solve nothing, so why bother?
A knock on my door interrupts my miserable thoughts.
Great. The beast has come back to try and piss me off further.
