My True Love Gave to Me by Ava March

Author:Ava March
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2011-09-07T04:00:00+00:00

The very faint click of the front door closing reached Alexander’s ears. He flinched. The old pain that had once almost destroyed him began to well up inside. But if he hadn’t practically shoved Thomas out the door, the man would have soon left of his own accord. Would have walked away from him, just as he once had done.

Hand curled tightly around the glass, he brought it up, downing the remaining whisky in one swallow.

“Goddamn him!”

He flung the tumbler toward the marble hearth. Glass shattered, the sound cracking through the room. But it offered not even a drop of relief against the brutal riot within.

He crossed the short distance to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, the sheet on either side of his hips still rumpled from Thomas’s hands. Bowing his head, he speared his fingers into his hair. Squeezed his eyes closed tight.

“You’re a bloody bastard.” A bloody selfish, cold bastard.

Self-disgust and shame clashed with the anger churning through his veins. Anger not only at Thomas but at himself.

He let out a low growl, the sound the embodiment of frustration. Of course Thomas would have been a virgin. A part of him had known it the moment the man had stood bare before him. The slight waver in his voice as he had offered himself to Alexander had all but confirmed it. Yet what the hell had Alexander done?

Hard and sharp, he shook his head. A wave of dizziness flooded his mind. He gripped his skull tighter, willed the lightheadedness away. If only he could lay the blame on the copious amount of whisky he’d poured down his throat that night, but he knew better. He knew exactly where the blame lay.

Always fucking pushing for more than he should.

Teeth gritted, he punched the mattress at his hip then let out a heavy exhale. His shoulders slumped.

So bloody be it. Thomas would have left anyway. Better now than later. He had not meant anything to Thomas then, and all tonight proved was Thomas’s need to assuage his guilt.

That was all. Nothing more. Took four years, but the guilt had finally caught up with Thomas. Still…

The sounds of Thomas’s gasps for more, the memory of warm bare skin beneath his hands, the aching vulnerability in those dark eyes, the soft press of his lips against Alexander’s…

Need tugged at his chest, pulled at his heart, whispered that those apologies had been far more than mere words. That Thomas had, in fact, returned to London for—

No!

He pushed up from the bed and whipped the shirt that still held the faint scent of Thomas’s body over his head. He might not be proud of himself, but he had done the right thing. Thomas had once almost destroyed him. He severely doubted his ability to survive a repeat. And if nothing else, at least he needn’t worry about having to face the man again. Tonight had effectively assured that Thomas would not come knocking on his door again.

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