by Beck, J. L.
Standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror, I probe at the pink skin where the largest cut was. I press my finger down as hard as I can, but the release never comes. I stand inside the bathroom for a long time, fighting with myself on what to do. I took the razor blades out of the medicine cabinet, but I hid a few under the sink. Maybe I can just make a tiny cut––
“Kennedy,” Jackson’s voice comes through the closed door, startling me. I jerk away from the door, my boobs bouncing as I do. “You okay in there?”
“Y-Yes… ah, I’ll be right out.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been in there forever.” His tone holds an accusation, and I know what he thinks. What’s really fucked up is that I’m mad at him for thinking that I’m in here cutting myself, even though that’s exactly what I was thinking about.
Having the urge to prove to him that I wasn’t, I unlock the door and pull it open without thinking.
“See, I’m fine,” I snap.
His mouth pops open, but no words come out. His eyes go wide as his heated gaze roams my naked body.
“I want sex,” I blurt out, and his gaze snaps back up to mine. I know without a doubt, he wants it too. If the lust in his eyes didn’t give him away, the growing bulge in his pants would.
“Are you sure?” he says, licking his lips like he just ordered a porterhouse steak.
“Yes. I want you to fuck me. Like you did the first time.”
His face falls. “You want me to hurt you?” It’s more of a statement than a question, and I hate that he can read me so well.
I shrug. “Maybe just a little.”
Instead of answering, he grabs my waist, lifts me up, and throws me over his shoulder like a freaking caveman. “What the hell are you doing?”
He just chuckles and carries me to the bedroom, where he deposits me onto my mattress. I watch as he starts taking off his own clothes, enjoying every second of the little show he is giving me. My mouth goes dry while moisture builds between my thighs. I almost forgot what kind of effect Jackson has on me.
“Spread your legs for me,” he orders, his voice deep and raspy.
I do as he says and spread out for him, showing him how much I want this right now, how much I want him. I’m completely exposed. Vulnerable, not only physically but mentally too. I don’t want to admit it to myself or him, but I’ve been depending on him. Every day, I lean on him a little more, even if I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it at all. I’ve been trying to push him away when, in reality, I would be worse off without him.
Crawling onto the bed, his naked body hovers above mine. He’s so close, I could reach out and touch him, and so I do. Lifting my hands, I run my fingertips over his hard chest and the chiseled abs. His jaw pops, and he hisses through his teeth.
He’s enjoying this more than he’s letting on.
“I’ll never miss an opportunity to be inside of you, but I won’t hurt you. Not now or ever again. I know you’re struggling. I know you want to cut and hurt yourself again, but I won’t let that happen. I will make you feel good in a different way… make you forget. Okay?”
I nod my head before the last word even leaves his mouth. I want that so badly… I want him so badly. All I need is one second, one single second of silence, and I can continue going. Lowering himself, he blankets my body with his. I can’t help but moan when his hard erection presses against my center.
“I’ll never get used to how responsive you are to me, soaked and begging for my cock.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck and sucks on the skin, eliciting a moan from deep within my chest out of me.
Balancing himself on one arm, he snakes a hand between my legs, his fingertips graze my folds, and I mewl like a cat in heat. It’s almost embarrassing how badly I want him right now.
Panting against the shell of my ear, he growls, “So wet, you’re like a waterfall, gushing your sweet arousal all over my fingers.”
“I need you,” I murmur, grabbing onto his biceps, sinking my nails into them.
“Fuck, bug.” The arousal, in his words, zings through me. Giving in to my need, he lines himself up at my entrance and slowly pushes in. Lifting my hips, I try to get him to move faster, deeper, but he just shifts with me and continues moving at an agonizingly slow pace.
“Please, Jackson,” I whimper, hoping to win him over.
“I’m going to make this last because I don’t know when you’ll let me do this again,” he murmurs against my skin while sliding inside of me to the hilt.
I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him even closer until there is no space between us. Until his breaths and heartbeat become mine. Until we’re one, encapsulated in time.
Every stroke fills me, heals me, and as the pleasure overtakes the pain, I feel my mind and body forgetting, letting go.
“I want to be inside you forever,” Jackson whispers against my lips.
“Yes, don’t stop.” I lift my hips and press my heels into his ass, urging him to go faster, but he doesn’t rush, doesn’t move any faster. He takes me slow and steady, bringing me to the edge of pleasure over and over again, making it impossible for me to feel anything but him.
After I’ve come two times, and we’re covered in sweat, Jackson ups his pace a little and explodes deep inside of me. The warmth of his seed inside me gives me a strange comfort. Rolling off of me, Jackson drops to the mattress beside me.
Breathing heavily, we both lie on our backs, staring up at the ceiling. I feel drained but in a good way. I’m content, happy, sated… but I know I won’t feel this way for long.
As the fog of lust is lifted, and my endorphin-filled brain slowly returns to normal, the familiar feeling of dread returns. The urge to go into the bathroom and find a blade is on my mind yet again. It’s the one thing I can rely on. When it all becomes too much, one cut shuts it off. I don’t want to die, that’s not what this is about. I need something to help me cope.
I can’t rely on my parents, I don’t have any friends, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust Jackson again. He might be here now, but how long will that last? How long before he changes his mind, how long before he realizes I’m too broken to be fixed?
Tears run down my face without my permission. I try to hide that I’m crying, holding in a sob, my chest cracking, the pain radiating outward, but of course, Jackson looks over to me.
“Are you crying?” He shifts onto his side and pulls me toward him, so we’re facing each other. “What’s wrong, bug? Tell me.”
“I love you,” I cry out. “But I can’t do this. I can’t trust you, not after everything that happened between us. I can’t let myself love you and depend on you, knowing that you could leave any day. I need more, something that I don’t think you can give me.”
“I love you too, Kennedy, and I’m not going anywhere. I know I fucked up. Trust me, I know, but I’m not leaving.” He cradles my face with his big hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away some of the tears. He knows I’m fragile, and I’ve already trusted him once. I can’t let myself down again. I can’t forget the power that he holds, how with the snap of his fingers, he could be gone again.
“I can’t forget what you said that day,” I confess. “I can’t forget you standing next to Tylor and saying those things to me. I can’t forget how you looked at me…”
Without another word, he pulls me into his arms and holds me tight against his chest. “I’m so sorry. You will never know how sorry I am. I know I can’t erase what I said and what I did to you, but I will never leave you again. I will prove it to you. I don’t care how long it takes for you to forgive me. I don’t even care if you never fully forgive me. I would deserve it. But I will not let you down again.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I let his scent surround me, let him engulf me and care for me.
I give him part of my heart, hoping he will handle it with care this time. Because I don’t know if I can survive another heartbreak.
Epilogue
One
Year Later
“Isn’t it weird being with two guys?” I ask Stella as we sit down with our trays.
“I mean, at first it was a little difficult. Easton and Cam are intense even on their best days. I knew I was meant to be with both of them, but finding an ease into how, and which ways, was tough. We’ve managed though.” Stella beams over her shoulder at Easton.
Just as I pop a grape into my mouth, Jackson swoops in, taking the seat on the other side of me. He places his hand on my thigh, and I welcome his touch, the warmth it brings, the pleasure. Twisting to face him, I smile at him, leaning in to kiss his full lips.
I almost choke on my grape, but it pops back into my mouth a second before I start to panic.
“I guess you know all about rough starts. I’m glad you two were able to figure things out.”
“We’re complicated,” Jackson tells her, grabbing a piece of food off my tray while his green eyes find mine.
“Yeah, love is complicated,” Stella says with a smirk. “You belong together just like I belong with Easton and Cam.”
Agreeing with her, I nod. I’m so glad that I’ve found happiness. Jackson didn’t lie to me when he said no matter what he was staying. His dedication made it painfully obvious that getting rid of him wasn’t going to be easy.
I couldn’t forgive him so easily, not until I was ready, and one year later, I think I’m finally there. We’ve lived together for a year, sleeping in the same bed, having sex, and healing each other, but we never put a label on anything.
“I want to meet up and do a double date or something. With half days for classes, I’m so bored,” Stella groans.
“Well, not everyone is a genius like you and gets to take half days for classes,” I tease. My friendship with Stella is one of my favorite things. Having a near-death experience lets you think about things differently. So, when she approached me to see how I was after my cutting incident, I took her up on her offer of coffee. We’ve been friends ever since.
“See, babe, we aren’t the only ones who think you’re beyond smart,” Easton says, tugging her into his side. I can see how much he loves her, how he would go to the ends of the earth to protect her, and back again. It’s a lot like how Jackson looks at me.
“Shut up and stop trying to get into my panties,” she says, laughing, and Easton’s gaze turns possessive.
“We both know I wouldn’t have to try, baby.” The drop in his voice even makes me shiver. Jackson notices and grips my thigh a little tighter, drawing my attention back to him.
“All right, let’s go… I’ll talk to you soon. We all definitely need to hang out more,” Stella says as she gets up from the table. Easton follows behind her like a puppy, giving me a wink.
Not sure what that was about.
“Hey, you okay?” Jackson pulls me into his side, and I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. He still smells like citrus and lemongrass.
“Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” The concern in his voice proves to me that it’s time. Jackson has spent the last year busting his ass to prove to me that he loves me and that he wants me and only me, and it’s time for me to show him that I accept his apology.
“Kennedy, babe, are you still with me?” Jackson asks.
I blink and shake my head, forcing myself to pay attention to the present. Turning to face him, I grab him by the cheeks and pull him to my face. “I want to go somewhere.”
“Anywhere you want, I’ll go.”
“I have to tell you something.”
“If you’re asking me to leave, it’s not—”
“Shh, it’s not that. I’m not going to tell you to leave ever again.”
One second passes, and then another, and then he’s getting up and grabbing my tray from the table. “Let’s go.”
“I haven’t even finished lunch,” I squeak.
“I’ll get you something in the drive-through on the way to wherever we’re going.”
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, jumping up from my seat.
* * *
We stop at McDonald’s on the way out of town since I’m the one doing the driving. I’m sure Jackson knows where we’re going, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, we argue over the radio stations and talk about school. It takes us an hour and a half on the interstate to get to North Woods, and when we pull into the cemetery, neither of us says anything. Jackson gets out first and comes over to the driver’s side of the car, opening the door and offering me a hand.
A sudden nervousness washes over me. For a long time, I blamed myself. I hated myself because hating myself was easier than admitting that she was gone. It was easier than believing something bad had happened to me, and like a domino effect, everything came crashing down. I miss Jillian every day, and I am thankful beyond measure that Jackson decided to stay and be my rock over the last year.
“We didn’t have to come here,” he says as we join hands, and I close the car door. The sun is still perched in the sky, and a soft breeze blows through the trees. Everything about this moment feels right.
“We did,” I say, turning to him.
Hand in hand, we walk to Jillian’s grave. I never got to go to the funeral since I was still in the hospital the day they had it, but I came here on my own to say my goodbyes once I was released. It’s the first time Jackson and I have ever been here together, though, and it’s special to me because it’s like our healing is coming full circle.
Stopping in front of her grave, I stare at the words etched into the stone.
Loving daughter, sister, and friend.
My eyes well with tears as I drag my fingers over the letters.
Turning to face Jackson, I can see the emotions on his face, each flickering with a different degree.
“After everything that happened, I never expected to want to be with you. I was determined to forget that you existed and to move on with my life, but you didn’t let me go. You stayed with me through the good and the bad and showed me that you really do care.”
“I love you, Kennedy, and I’ve been telling you that since the day you came home from the hospital. I loved you even when I was hurting you because I was hurting.”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat. “I love you too. This last year has made me appreciate you so much, and I wanted to come here to Jillian’s grave and tell you that I forgive you. That I love you, and I’m ready to embark on whatever journey is planned for us. I’m ready to be a couple.”
Jackson releases my hand and cups me by my cheeks, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my lips. All I can feel is him, the warmth of his lips, the kindness of his touch.
“I already thought we were,” he says, grinning, which in turn makes me smile.
“Technically, we kinda were, but we never made it official, and you never pushed or asked me if I forgave you. You let me heal all on my own, picking me up when I fell down.”
Neither of us says anything, we just stand there holding each other, letting the breeze rush past us and into the trees.
“Do you think Jillian would be happy if she saw us now?”
Jackson pulls away but only slightly. “I think Jillian sent us to each other, so we could heal together because she knew even though it was going to be rough that we needed each other.”
I nod because I did need him. I needed him so that I could let go of the pain. I needed his anger so I could realize that I wasn’t the only one to blame.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you too, and I’m glad you didn’t leave when I told you to.”
“I’m a little bit stubborn.” He lets out a chuckle.
“A little bit?” I shake my head and look back at Jillian’s grave one last time before we leave to head back to the car.
I miss you, and I’ll never stop missing you.
Thank you for giving me your brother.
* * *
Thank You for reading Regretting You, the final book in the Blackt
horn Elite Series.
Do you want more dark bully romance? Read our international bestseller The Bet, and keep reading for a sneak peak.
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1
Remington
I lick my lips, the busty blonde sitting beside me has my cock rock hard. I know I should be focusing on the shit that the professor is droning on about, but I don’t care. All I can think about is the things she’s going to do with her lips and tongue in about an hour.
A loud creaking noise fills the room interrupting Mr. Johnson, and momentarily pulling me from Layla, or maybe it’s Lacy, I can’t really remember. I look from the girl beside me and to the door.
Whoever it is, is going to get an ass-chewing. In college, the professors don’t really care if you’re late or don’t show up, so I’m not really sure why Mr. Johnson makes a show out of those that are tardy, still, I don’t hold my breath that he isn’t going to start bitching in a second.
My entire world flips on its axis when I see the person entering the room. Big blue eyes, soft pink lips, and long blonde curls, just the way I remember them.
Jules.
My heart starts beating out of my chest with just one look. No fucking way. I must be dreaming, or high, or drunk, or all three combined, because there is no fucking way that she’s really here, much less in this class.
I haven’t seen her in three years.
Three. Fucking. Years.
The memory of her is like a hot branding iron on my skin. The day she left was the day I lost a piece of who I was...a piece I tossed over my shoulder and never cared to find again. I grit my teeth, my jaw flexing with the pressure.
Mr. Johnson spins around, finger already raised as if he is about to snarl at her, but when he sees the sweet angel standing in the middle of the room, his face changes, morphing into something else. Even he can’t bring himself to yell at this sweet creature.