"Go." He told her. They were both standing by the tree he was sitting under when he first saw her. He didn't wish to take her further. He needed to be rid of her as quickly as possible.
"What are you waiting for? Go!" He ordered her, and he could see the uneasiness in her eyes. The uncertainty. She distrusted him. But rightfully so, for he did not trust his own self. He could pull her down, roll her underneath the huge umbrella of the tree and make love to her again. Lords! He could. He wanted to.
She had decided to make love to him, and she had regretted it. He hated the fact that she regretted it. That she was wrongly angry at him for making love to her. Or maybe she was rightfully angry. Maybe she was right. Maybe he really refused to let her go with hopes that she would give in to his lustful desires.
