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“Superman.”
     

CHAPTER SIX

    I know he doesn’t want me here, but I don’t care. For years, I loved this man with everything inside of me. He was awesome, just an all-around great guy. He was the kind of person who would do anything for anyone. The man before me now, he’s broken. That fire burned more than his skin. It scorched his heart, too.
    I’ll get him clean, keep him that way for three days, and then the rest will depend on him. I’m fully aware of how all this works. I can’t force him to stop using, but I need to give him a fresh start, even if I have to force it.
    And I wasn’t lying. No matter how far gone he may be, he won’t hurt me. I trust him. I always have, which is why it was difficult to discover that he cheated on me. We all make mistakes. It doesn’t define us, just makes us real. It hurt me, but that one slip-up could never take away all the love I had for Slate Declan.
    He has changed, though. I see it in his eyes. He’s been hardened by the struggle, the constant fight an addict endures, one they rarely win. I only worked at that drug rehab for a few months, that’s all I could take, but I had extensive training and I’m aware of what’s to come in the next seventy-two hours. I refuse to give up on him, though. When Slate can’t do it any longer, I will fight for him.
    Leaning his back against the wall, Slate crosses his arms over his hunky chest. Damn, he really did fill out. He’s in great shape for being an addict; it must be all the fighting. His hair is a lot shorter too, but it looks good. Without a word spoken between us, he glares at me.
    Every muscle drawn tight, I glare back. Let the battle begin.
    “Okay,” he finally says voice flat and impassive. “You fucking win, Rayna. I’ll stay down here with you,” he pauses to take a long, slow look down my stiff body, “but just before we leave this den, you’re going to walk over to that sofa, drop your pants, and I’m going to fuck you.”
    “What?” I didn’t see that coming. No. Not at all.
    “Yeah.” He crams a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “I figure you’re fuckin’ me. So, I’m gonna fuck you.”
    “It’s...ah...it’s not the same,” I manage to get out of my stuttering mouth.
    “No?” He grins. “But that’s my offer.”
    Speechless, I stare at him and his smug grin. “Ya know…” I find my voice and collect my wits. “If you wanted to fuck me, I’m sure there’s another approach you could’ve taken that probably would’ve worked a lot better than forcing me to do it!”
    “Forcing you.” He chuckles. “You’re forcing me to stay down here with you, and I don’t want to fuck you.” He shakes his head as his scheming grin widens. “I want to punish you for what you’re doing to me.” He pushes himself from the wall and slowly walks over. His dispassionate, steady eyes lock with mine. “In fact,” he stops just inches away, “while you’re bent over that sofa with your panties wrapped around your ankles, I’m going to beat your ass, too. And only when I think that it’s red enough, when I think that you’ve been punished real good for the shit you’re pulling right now, will I grab your hips and shove my cock deep inside of you. And, Rayna, I’m gonna fuck you hard.” He leans down closer to me. “Harder than your pussy has ever been fucked before.” He glances at my lip, the one that I’m now biting. “So,” his dark lashes lift as a grin overtakes his hard features, “are you sure that you really want to spend some time with me? Are you sure that you want to go through with this shit, my brave little monkey?”
    I stare at him. I know when he’s bluffing, and right now, he’s not. The sad thing is that I want him to fuck me—hard. I’ve yearned for him to fuck me that way. Oh, God! What am I getting myself into here?
    He’s trying to frighten me, that’s all, but it’s not going to work. I’m not about to back down now. I will not walk away