When Fangirls Cry by Marian Tee Page A

it’s true!” Saffi started to laugh as she held up the coat hanger holding a plastic-wrapped three-piece Elvis Presley outfit, with an elaborate wig tied to it. “You really did impersonate him when you were in college!”
                He grabbed the outfit from Saffi and shoved it back inside the closet before slamming the doors closed. “If you ever breathe one word to anyone about this---” When he turned around to scowl at Saffi, she was already half naked, her dress lying in a pool of velvet around her feet.
                His mouth went dry.
                Hands now shaking, she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. “Staffan,” she said softly.
                “What?”
                “I meant what I said. I want you in my bed every night.”
                His jaw hardened at her words, and she could see his inner struggle reflected in his eyes.
                Swallowing, she raised her arms as if to welcome him. “Staffan, please? I want you so much now.” When he still didn’t respond, Saffi let her hands drift over her breasts. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Please, Staffan. I need you to touch me. I need to feel your body against me. I need you to rip my panties---”
                It was the trigger she was looking for, and he was on her in an instant. Staffan ripped her panties off the same time he swept her into his arms. His lips took hers as he gently lowered her to the bed. Saffi’s eyes pricked with tears she quickly blinked away, everything in her crying out her love for Staffan. Even now – even though she knew he still doubted their baby was his, he was careful not to hurt her or the baby.
                She helped him take off his own clothes even as their lips moved hungrily against each other, neither of them willing to break their kiss. When he was naked, Staffan’s lean hard form settled over hers like a second layer of skin that was all heat, passion, and magic – oh dear God, it was magic. His kiss, his touch, his possession – Saffi couldn’t help whispering, “I love you.”
                Staffan froze over her, his head lifting up, breaking the kiss.
                The memories – those hurtful, deceitful, misunderstood memories were returning to Staffan and she saw how the betrayal and fury made his hazel eyes burn. It hurt her, only because she knew how much Staffan was hurting. He loved her – Staffan had loved her with all his heart, and the world made it seem as if she didn’t love him back.
                She cupped his face. “I love you, Staffan.” Her voice was fierce. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved and will ever love---”
                “Liar,” he gritted out.
                He started to pull away, but she was prepared for it. Her arms went around him, holding him to her tightly.
                “Let go,” Staffan snarled under his breath, the feel of Saffi’s soft naked body tempting him to forget. But he was fucking done forgetting. He had played the role of a happy lover and it just fucking hurt to remember that it wasn’t true.
                Saffi was clinging to him like he was a raft and she was drowning. He couldn’t use brute force, unwilling to risk hurting her or the baby she carried. “Goddammit it, Saffi, let go---”
                “Never!” Tightening her arms around him, she rose up and aggressively covered his lips with hers. She kissed him deeply, lovingly, seducing him without words. Staffan’s lips were tightly shut, but she didn’t let it discourage her, licking and nibbling his lips as she pressed her breasts against his chest. She twisted her legs around his waist as she rubbed her hot sex against his already pulsing dick.
                Saffi’s breathy moans and calculated moves were fast eroding his defenses. Staffan did his