His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 158: putting Him in his place

I didn't want to think about it—but my mind was already doing it for me.

Would he have stopped himself?

Would I have even had the strength to push him away?

My body... my damn body had betrayed me. Reacting like I was some teenager being touched for the first time.

I hated it. Hated the way my breath had hitched. The way my knees had weakened. The way I forgot myself for a second... like some woman starving for attention.

What was wrong with me?

I should've stood my ground. I should've stopped it before it got too far.

But I didn't.

And now I was standing here, chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks on fire. I didn't need a mirror to know how red I was.

Not just flushed. No.

I was tomato red. Ripe. Embarrassed.

And he...

I turned slowly to look at Declan.

He was fuming.

Not even trying to hide it. His jaw was locked tight, his eyes blazing.

But what made it worse? He didn't even ask who was found. Didn't ask if it was Tyler. Didn't ask anything.

Then—out of nowhere—he snapped.

He turned, pulled his fist back, and punched the wall.

Bang.

The sound echoed through the room and made me jump.

I stared, wide-eyed, as a fresh dent appeared on my wall.

Really?

"Seriously?" I muttered, still catching my breath. "Throwing tantrums like a kid now?"

I rolled my eyes, folding my arms.

"If you break my wall again, you're fixing it," I said flatly. "Actually—what am I even saying? You're rich. You can snap your fingers and get me a whole new house, so break the whole damn wall if it makes you feel better."

He didn't even look at me.

His face was red from anger, and his chest was rising like a beast trying to hold in a roar.

Then he picked up a shirt—my shirt—and tossed it to me.

It hit me like a slap.

That was when I realized I had been bare-chested the whole time.

My eyes widened, and I hugged the shirt to my chest like my life depended on it.

I could've sworn I wore it.

How the hell did it end up off me?

"Oh my God," I whispered under my breath, feeling my whole body burn with embarrassment. "Oh, God. Kill me now."

The ground really needed to open up and swallow me whole.

That would be easier than standing here in front of him, half-naked and red as hell.

I cleared my throat and muttered a small, awkward, "Thank you..."

Not because I meant it.

But because I didn't want to give him any more reason to delay me.

I clutched the shirt tighter and started thinking of anything I could say to distract myself—to get out of this weird moment and change the energy.

Then it hit me.

"Who called?" I asked quickly. "Who was found?"

Declan didn't respond.

He just rubbed his face like he was trying to calm the demon in his head.

"Was it Tyler?" I asked again, this time softer.

Still nothing.

He just kept rubbing his face, jaw tense, avoiding my eyes like I wasn't even in the room.

I repeated myself again, my voice rising just a little.

"Declan... was it Tyler?"

And finally, he snapped.

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone!" he barked. "Once we get there, you'll see for yourself."

His voice cut through me like ice.

So sharp. So cold.

I felt my heart sink a little—but I didn't show it.

I reminded myself that I was a strong woman.

So I nodded slowly and told myself, A win is a win.

At least my mind was off the fact that I'd been half-naked for over five minutes.

Declan turned to leave, and out of curiosity, I glanced at him.

And... wow.

He was hard. Rock solid.

I blinked.

Whoever saw him now wouldn't believe that this man had a wife somewhere.

Yet here he was—getting turned on by the same woman he claimed he hated.

Disgusting, right?

But also... a little ironic.

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As I kept staring, still trying to wrap my head around it, he turned back slightly.

His eyes caught mine, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Quit staring," he growled. "If you keep looking at it, I won't have any choice but to shove it down your throat."

My mouth fell open a little—but no words came out.

He didn't wait for a reply.

He just turned around and walked out.

And I followed him.

I honestly didn't have the strength to argue anymore.

Even if I wanted to argue—what was I supposed to say?

That he couldn't shove his damn dick down my throat just because he threatened to?

Please.

Hell no, I wasn't going to say that.

I closed the door behind me and walked out.

He was already outside, walking fast like the devil was chasing him.

I trailed behind, keeping a little distance. My heart was still racing, and my pride... it was crawling on the floor.

Declan got to his car first.

He unlocked the car with a click and opened the driver's side door.

Without thinking too much, I walked around to the front passenger seat.

I mean—it's not a crime to sit there, right?

But just as I reached for the handle to open the door...

"Get your bitch ass off my front seat!" he barked at me.

I froze.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at him.

What the actual fuck?

Was he seriously shouting at me over a seat?

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to snap. But oh, I was this close.

Why does he always do this?

Why does he keep finding new ways to piss me off?

He could've just calmly told me, "I don't like anyone sitting in the front with me" or "Can you please sit in the back?"

I would've understood. I swear I would've.

I wouldn't have argued.

But no.

He had to insult me. Again.

Like always.

Calling me a bitch... like that's the only language he knows.

The only real bitch here is him.

A grown-ass man who can't go a single day without being mean to a woman.

I hope he doesn't treats his new wife the same way. I wouldn't be surprised if he does.

Because honestly? Once a toxic man, always a toxic man.

He was a walking red flag from head to toe.

I inhaled deeply, my hands shaking a little as I clenched them into fists.

It was high time I gave him a damn piece of my mind.

"What did you just say?" I asked him, stepping closer.

Declan didn't even flinch.

In fact, he smirked. That ugly, condescending smirk I've grown to hate with every bone in my body.

"It seems you're deaf," he said sharply, voice cold like ice. "But I'll repeat myself, loud and clear."

He leaned across the driver's seat, locked eyes with me like he wanted to pick a fight.

"Get your bitch ass off my front passenger seat. The only person who deserves to sit there is my one and only wife. So if you don't mind, take that nasty bitch ass of yours and sit in the back."

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then I laughed.

Not a polite laugh.

It was bitter. Loud. Full of disbelief.

"Oh... I'm a bitch now?" I said, still laughing as I leaned against the door, looking him dead in the eyes.

He froze.

"You didn't think I was a bitch when your dick jumped just because you saw my nipple," I said calmly. "You didn't remember I was a bitch when your eyes dropped to my chest like a starving dog, Declan."

He looked away for half a second.

"Tell me," I said, pushing myself off the door and walking closer to him. "What were you thinking when you had your hand between my thighs, hmm? Were you thinking, 'Oh, let me touch this nasty bitch real quick'? Or were you thinking about how fast you could bend me over my own couch?"

I tilted my head and smiled.

"Let me guess... now I'm a bitch because I sat in your precious front seat?" I scoffed. "Are you fucking serious, Declan?"

I laughed again, even louder this time.

"You know what's funny? You walk around pretending you hate me, acting like I disgust you... but your dick keeps betraying you, doesn't it?"

Still no answer.

"So yeah. I'm a fucking bitch, right?" I stepped even closer now. Close enough for him to feel my breath.

"Fine. Let's go with that."

I leaned in, my eyes never leaving his.

"But tell me something, husband of the year... does your sweet little wife know that the 'bitch' you hate so much was the same one making your dick so hard you could barely breathe?"

He blinked. No words. No defense.

Just silence.

I smiled.

"And don't lie to yourself, Declan. You weren't thinking about your wife when you were breathing down my neck. You weren't thinking about her when your voice dropped low and dangerous. You weren't thinking about her when you spread my legs and looked like you were ready to—" I paused, watching his jaw tighten. "—lose control."

"I didn't ask to be dragged back into your life," I added quietly. "You came to me. You walked into my home. And now you want to act like I'm the problem?"

I shook my head.

"You're the one with the wife, Declan. Not me. You're the one who made promises to someone else. So don't stand there and act like I'm the villain because you can't keep your hands—or your filthy eyes—to yourself."

He still said nothing.

"You can insult me all you want," I said, my voice soft but steady. "Call me names. Shove me to the back seat like trash. But don't you ever forget what really happened."

I tapped his chest gently with my finger.

"You almost lost control because of me."

"And just so you know... next time you threaten to shove it down my throat? You better pray I don't bite."