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I just mean…if there was no Aaron, I might have let that six-foot-five rich Scottish jerk throw me around a little bit.
She stops and turns toward me with a crooked grin. “He said you were the rudest, meanest, most infuriating woman he’d ever met.” “And that made you think I’d be a good fit for this?” “No,” she replies with a shake of her head. “But he did.”
“We could do this all winter. Fuck like animals all day long. With nothing better to do. You can still hate me. Call me a brute and an arsehole, and I’ll call you a cow and selfish bitch. But with lots and lots of orgasms.”
She has flaws, but she wears them on her skin like scars. And it makes her so much more beautiful.
It was the way he let me be me, without expectation or criticism. He took the ugliest parts of me and loved them right along with the beautiful ones. He let me scream and cry and held me afterward like I was the most important person in his life.