River-rose thinks what her and her high school sweetheart has is love, but when she's told she needs to marry a complete stranger all of that changes.
Hayze is only 24 and owns his own thriving architectural business. After a business problem, his...
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River-rose plopped down on the couch beside her boyfriend with a bowl of popcorn in her hands. She offered over the bowl and he snatched it away and placed it on the coffee table that was always literred with some type of caffeine, alcoholic beverage, plastic water bottle and pain killers for his hangovers.
She yelped as he grabbed her waist and tugged her up into his lap. His tongue licked a wet trail lightly up her neck and she grimaced. She absolutely despised when he did that. She felt like she was like getting licked by one of those big dogs from beethoven. A St. Benard it was called.
His cold hands slipped under her shirt as he kissed her and she pulled away from him. He growled and tightened his grip on her sides.
He gazed into her honey-green eyes with his hazel brown eyes, the ones she had fallen in love with.
"I need you. Why won't you let me have you?" He asked in a pleading voice that made her feel somewhat guilty for rejecting him. He reminded her of a kicked puppy.
"I'm not ready," she said quietly.
"When will you be ready?" He growled out.
She flinched back from his tone. One of the things she hated, was when he was angry with her; which was becoming more and more now days. When he was angry, he wasn't like the person she fell in love with.
The first time she met him, her being the clumsy person she is, tripped over a persons foot in school and as clichè as it was, he had caught her before she hit the ground. She'd quite literally fallen for him.
Later on, he brought her flowers and asked her to prom. Obviously, she had said yes. Why wouldn't she?
He had a certain type of smile that could charm literally anyone and for some reason he had decided to use that smile on her. It also didn't help that he was a handsome hunk of man with his hazel-brown and his dirty blond, cropped hair. He was tall at the height of 6'1 and a half. And at the time he was on the football (soccer) team, so he was obviously visibly fit.
It had only taken four months for her to fall head over sneakers in love with him and his sweet persona. He was seemingly perfect but he had a bad habit of drinking whenever he had a stressful day or he was upset. The alcohol would cause him to verbally abuse her, but she would just take the lashes because she knew he wasn't in his right mind.
There was a time when he was so frustrated with her for not sleeping with him, that he slapped her. That was where she had drawn the line. He had just a crossed boundary she wasn't even tampering with. She was going to break up with him right there and then but then he continually apologized until she noticed tears well up in his eyes. Her resolve immediately broke and she stayed with him; allowed him to mold her into his little defenseless kitten.
