Her words had reached deep inside and provoked something that was best left buried.
His hands stopped in their pursuit. She tensed as well, her erratic breathing gradually slowing down.
"Perhaps you're right." He heard her sharp intake of breath.
"But no one would come close to wanting you the way I do."
She pushed up to a sitting position.
His eyes laid on her breasts briefly before dragging themselves back to her face.
Then she folded her arms across her chest.
"Wanting me is not the same thing as loving me."
He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
"Love isn't for men like me, Claire." His voice dipped to a whisper.
Her eyes softened.
"Because you don't want to be loved."
He shook his head. "The moment I care about something too much, it would be used against me."
She fell back on the bed, her folded arms falling away.
"I understand."
He drew closer until he was looking into her eyes.
"Do you love me?"
She only stared back at him.
