The Secret Between Us novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: The Kitchen

He stood in the wind with his hands open, and for a long moment neither of us moved.

"You're right," he said at last. "I don't."

"Don't say it like that."

"How should I say it? I walked out on you, and I want to run away with you, and it's the same mistake."

"It's a different one."

"Is it better?"

"No," I said, and a laugh broke out of me, wet and furious. "It's just louder."

He laughed too, helplessly, and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand.

I took his sleeve.

"Come home with me," I said. "My father's at the yard. I can't stand in front of her house another second."

We went down the hill without speaking.

The cottage was empty and cold, and the kitchen smelled of last night's coffee.

I shut the door and turned the lock.

He stood by the table with his jacket still on, looking at the same chipped yellow cups he'd drunk from for four years.

"You're angry," he said.

"I'm furious."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I'd rather you were furious than polite."

I crossed the floor and grabbed the front of his jacket.

"I'm going to take this off you," I said, "and then I'm going to take everything else off you, and you're going to stand still."

His eyes went dark.

"Yes, ma'am."

I shoved the jacket off his shoulders and pulled his shirt up over his head.

He let me.

I pushed him back against the counter and unbuckled his belt, and the sound of it was loud in the quiet room.

He was already hard.

I could see it through his jeans, and when I palmed him through the denim he let his head fall back and hissed.

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