The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 61

Petty tried to pull away, but Franco's grip only tightened around her arm. Her cheeks flushed with frustration. "Avoiding you?"

How could he just throw out a line like that as if it meant nothing?

It was almost laughable, but somehow, she couldn't find the strength to even smile. Once she caught her breath, she stopped struggling.

"Well, I guess you’re not entirely wrong."

She met Franco’s cold, unreadable eyes without backing down.

She spoke slowly, making sure every word landed. "Ever heard the saying, if you don’t want bad luck, stay away from a jinx? That’s exactly what I’m doing, Franco. Staying away from you. Is that answer good enough for you?"

Franco’s jaw tensed. He stared at her, then let out a short, mocking laugh. "You sure talk tough."

"If that’s how you want to see it, I can’t exactly—"

Before she could finish, Franco yanked her closer. His hand caught her chin, forcing her gaze up, and then his lips crashed onto hers.

"Franco, let go of me—stop! Go find Laura… you jerk!"

She barely got the words out before he pressed harder, pushing past her resistance. His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her head, holding her still.

At five-seven, with flats, Petty felt small next to him. Franco stood well over six feet, his height and presence overwhelming.

Her neck ached as she tilted her head back, forced to take the force of his deep, relentless kiss.

Fury burned in her eyes, making them water.

She tried to kick him, but Franco moved faster. He twisted her around, trapping her in a corner. His broad chest boxed her in, leaving her nowhere to go, his kiss demanding her surrender.

The scent of an unfamiliar cologne filled her nose, stirring up the memory of Franco carrying Laura into the elevator that morning.

He pulled away just long enough to let her catch her breath, then kissed her again.

Petty’s knees started to buckle. Franco wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight, his breath ragged as he looked down at her. "Still want to keep running that mouth?"

Petty, gathering a bit of strength, tried to shove him away. Before she could, Franco caught her wrist.

"I thought you hated pain." His voice was low as he squeezed her wrist, his thumb rubbing over her palm which was red from hitting him.

Her eyes flashed, glassy with tears and anger. "If hitting you means I have to hurt twice as much, I’ll take it!"

Franco’s grip got even stronger. He leaned in, ready to kiss her yet again.

Just then, a gentle voice called from nearby. "Petty? Franco?"

Petty let out a shaky laugh. Her lips were swollen and bright red, glistening and tempting. She looked at Franco with a half-smile, the kind that spelled trouble. "Looks like your first love just showed up."