Chapter 18

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" I don't want her because I don't want anybody else, but you damn it!" His voice raises.

I inhale, narrowing my brows and swallowing hard. Waiting for him to continue.

He sighs, "all I think about is being with you, inside of you. You infuriate me so much Aurora, but I can't seem to get you out of my mind. All I think about is you, next to me, in my bed, wrapped around my cock."

He holds the bridge of his nose as if his confession is more confusing and shocking to him than it is me, "I don't want her because ever since I kissed you, ever since I've known how it feels to be inside of you, I don't want to be inside anybody else."

I swallow hard, "I-" fighting to find the words to say, but I honestly don't know what to say. I know he's basically just saying he enjoys fucking me, but it feels like it's more than that. Or maybe it's just my imagination.

"And I wanted to take you shopping because I didn't want to actually have to say it out loud." He says looking me in the eyes.

I can tell he's fighting an internal battle. His walls want to fall but he's not allowing them to. I knew what I'd say would probably either bring them all the way up or all the way down, but I don't think I was ready for either.

So instead I say, "I think Chanel's around the corner?" I let out softly, smiling.

He grits his teeth, and the vail is back up.

What did he want me to say, 'I enjoy fucking you too?'. I mean that's pretty obvious.

"We'll go after eating."

Soon after the waiter brings out two plates of pastas. He ordered me the seafood pasta and it was absolutely amazing.

He took out his phone while we were eating since nobody was saying anything.

I wanted to say something, I felt like that.. was as big a confession I could ever get from him and I made a stupid joke instead.

A lump formed in my throat to how cold he was being and I don't even know why.

His phone started ringing in the middle of lunch and he stood up to take the call outside.

While he was outside, I thought about saying something, but what? I feel like he was looking for some kind of reassurance that we're both in the same place, but I don't even know what place he's in.

Is he saying, he hates me but loves to fuck me? Well I do to.

No, you don't hate him. My inner thoughts retort.

I let out a sigh, pushing down all the emotions creeping up. I don't even know how I feel about what he said.

Am I relieved that he doesn't want to fuck any other woman other than me? Fuck yes, but why does that make me happy?

Why did the waitress writing down her number for him get to me like that?

It was probably just because I thought he was being classist. That's not it.

I groan trying to shut out that part of my mind talking back at me.

He comes back, but doesn't sit instead, "I need to go, I have an urgent matter to attend to." He says before pulling out his Louis Vuitton wallet.

"Use this to pay for the meal and your shopping. Get anything and everything you want then call  Cameron to fetch you."

He drops the centurion American Express card on the table and rushes out before I could say anything.

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