Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

His voice gravelly, he says, “It’s not a guise. It’s the
fucking truth.”
“Even if I believed you, Kage, why should I want this for
myself? Why should I want any of this?”
He snaps, “I won’t try to argue you into it. Either you want
me or you don’t.”
“Of course I want you! I want you like I’ve never wanted
anything! But don’t you think I’ve already been through
enough? You think I should put my heart on the line again
when you’ve flat out told me who and what you are and what
the limits of this relationship would be?”
“No!” he roars. “I don’t! Which is exactly what I’m
fucking saying!”
He careens around another corner. We narrowly miss
killing a pedestrian in the crosswalk.
A few minutes later, we screech to a stop in my driveway.
Before he can say another word, I’m out of the car, hustling
toward the front door.
When I open it, he barges right through behind me. When
he slams the door shut, Mojo lifts his head from where he’s
lying in the middle of the living room floor, makes a halfhearted
woof, then goes back to sleep.
I swear, if I were ever robbed, that dog would usher the
robbers right in and show them where my jewelry is.
“Don’t walk away from me.”
Kage grabs my arm and spins me around to face him.
“Don’t manhandle me.”
“You know I’d never put my hands on you in anger.”
“Really? Because your hands are on me right now, and
you’re angry.”
He drags me against his chest, closes his eyes, and draws a
breath. When he exhales, he says through a clenched jaw,
“Goddammit, woman. Stop. The. Sass.”