The Choices We Made novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: Terms

Weston was awake.

He sat on the edge of the narrow couch in his shirtsleeves.

The lamp was on, and he had no book in his hands.

He stood up when she came in.

Eliza shut the door and leaned back against it.

"I have terms," she said.

"Tell me."

"This changes nothing. I don't forgive you. I'm not staying for you."

"All right."

"Every time I touch you, I'll say why. And if I say stop, you stop."

"I would have stopped anyway."

"I know. I'm saying it so that you know I know."

He nodded slowly.

"What's the reason tonight?" he asked.

She crossed the room until she stood close enough to feel the heat coming off him.

"I'm angry," she said. "And I want to stop thinking for an hour."

His eyes went dark.

"That's a good reason," he said, and his voice was rougher than she had ever heard it.

She put both hands flat on his chest and pushed.

He went back onto the couch, and she followed him down.

Her mouth found his, and it was not gentle.

She bit his lower lip until he made a sound.

She dragged his shirt open so hard that a button skittered across the floor.

His hands came up to her hips.

"Not yet," she said against his mouth. "Hands on the cushion."

He put them there.

He had never let her lead.

For six years she had lain under his weight and let him take, because the taking was the only way he spoke to her.

Now he held still and let her look.

She pulled her robe open and let it fall.

His breath caught when he saw her. She watched him try to speak and fail.

"What?" she said.

"I haven't looked at you in years," Weston said. "I'm sorry. I thought I had."

She kissed him again so he would stop talking.

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