Wrong for Me

21|rabid raccoon

"So did the date I planned for you not mean anything? Do the nights we spend together not mean anything?"

She scoffed yet again and I could practically see the steam leaving her ears. "A date and sex isn't enough to show me that Dante. Taking me somewhere nice and fucking me is not what I need! I need you to tell me!"

By now, our voices were raised and we were both clearly angered—our eyes wide and deranged looking, our bodies tense and rigid. I was more than thankful for the sound proof office we were in because the conversation was becoming increasingly intense by the second.

"That's your problem! You expect me to be just like you when I'm not. I can't express myself the way you do, it's not that easy for me. You want me to change immediately and be the perfect man you want when I will never be that. We will always have traits that the other person doesn't like, but that's how a relationship is supposed to work! I don't like how impulsive you are, but I understand that I can't change you."

"Impulsive?" She fumed, cocking her head to the side and letting out an angered chuckle. "What do you mean impulsive?"

"Saturday is the perfect example. I don't give you the attention you want and you go and get drunk. You get mad about a proposal and bolt off to a bar to get attention from a whole bunch of random men!"

I had clearly struck a nerve, her eyes now wide and her arms crossed yet again. She could be as mad as she wanted, but I had the right to express myself just as much as she did.

"And the common denominator in all those situations is you. All I need is for you to be honest...not be so cold!"

We fell into a bout of silence, simply staring at each other as her foot tapped against the floor and I roughly ran a hand through my hair.

"Naomi," I began in a small voice, the weight of the argument suffocating me. I hated conflict of this sort because it reminded me so much of my past, but when it was necessary I wasn't afraid to engage in it. I was proud of myself for controlling my anger because that tended to be difficult for me. "I want you to know that I wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation if I didn't like you. I like you a lot and I...I may have trouble expressing that, but I want to work on it and I want you to know how I feel."

By the time my statement came to a close, her eyes were watering and she was attempting to hold the tears back to no avail. I walked up to her, engulfing her in my arms and pulling her into my chest. This was always something difficult for me—comforting people—but I would try for her.

"I just needed to hear that and I hate that I need that kind of reassurance. Dante, I'm sorry for being so hard on you about everything because you're right...we'll always have flaws. But just know that I really like you too."

That brought a small smile to my face and I brought one hand up to wipe away at a few of the fallen tears. "You know...all of this pent up aggression and anger is making me want to take you right in this office. Right now."

She chuckled, cocking her head to the side and seductively saying, "Then do it."

As if that flipped a switch in my mind, I pressed my lips against hers and a sloppy kiss ensued. I spun us around so that she was instead pressed against the edge of the desk, pushing her down lightly until her back was laid against the wooden desk top.

Our tongues tangled uncontrollably as her hands gripped onto my hair while I grabbed her ass into my hold. Pulling away from her lips, I pressed kisses along her neck, reaching a sweet spot that made her giggle. My hand slipped under her dress and she let out a surprised moan when my finger traveled over the fabric of her panties. I did it a few more times, watching her reaction each time until I slid them down her legs.