by L A Cotton
Felicity’s house was steeped in darkness when I pulled up outside. Cameron and Hailee had tried to warn me about coming here, but as soon as her name left my step-sister’s lips, all rational thought went out of the window.
I had to know she was okay.
Maybe it was guilt over the fact she wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me, or maybe it was because she meant more to me than I cared to admit. Whatever it was, I wasn’t leaving until I saw her with my own two eyes.
So why had I been sitting here for the last ten minutes unable to get out of the damn car?
“Fuck it,” I mumbled, shouldering the door and climbing out. I’d never called on a girl before; never stood on the doorstep and waited for them to appear. It wasn’t my style. Wasn’t something I ever imagined myself doing... yet, here I was.
But the second I hit the Giles’ porch, I froze. It was late on a Saturday night. What if her parents were home? What if her old man answered the door and saw me standing here? He’d recognize me; everyone in town did. Then there would be questions, assumptions… Fuck.
There was no car in the driveway unless you counted Felicity’s ugly sunflower yellow Beetle.
Retrieving my cell, I sent a quick text to Hailee.
Me: Are her parents home?
Haile: How the hell should I know? Is their car there?
Me: I don’t think so.
Hailee: You should be good then. I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.
I ignored that, not wanting to admit I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing.
Knocking gently, I waited. And waited.
And waited some fucking more.
There was every chance she was asleep. But it wasn’t good enough. I needed to see her, to hear her side of what happened.
I needed to know she was fucking okay.
Me: I need her number.
Hailee: No way.
Me: Please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.
Hailee: If I do this, and I haven’t decided I will yet, you have to promise me not to hurt her. Ever.
Shit. How could she expect me to agree to that?
Hailee: So.... what’ll it be?
Me: I promise to only ever do what I think’s best for her...
Hailee: Jason, that isn’t the same thing.
Me: It’s all I have right now. What’s it going to be, little sis? Am I getting her number or am I breaking and entering your best friend’s house?
Hailee: JASON!!! Don’t you dare...
Me: I’m joking.
For the most part. Because I wasn’t leaving without seeing Felicity. Another text came through with a cell phone number. I added it to my contacts and opened a new message chat.
Me: Open your door.
Felicity: Who is this?
Me: Come find out...
A couple of minutes passed, and I was beginning to think she’d barricaded herself inside while she waited for the authorities to arrive. But then the curtain twitched and a couple seconds later, the door creaked open. “Jason?” Felicity yelped. “What are you—”
“Don’t I get an invitation inside?” I forced my eyes to stay on her face and not her bare legs.
“Why would I invite you inside?” She glared at me. “And what are you doing at my house anyway? It’s late. I was asleep.”
“Just open the damn door, Felicity,” I breathed out. “Hailee told me what happened last night with Thatcher.”
“So you came over here to do what exactly?” Her lips pursed, taunting me. Her eyes daring me to admit it.
“You’re really going to make me say it?”
Silence stretched out before us while Felicity waited for me to make my choice.
“Fine, woman. I came because the second I heard he had his hands on you, I wanted to kill something.” Preferably him.
Bitter laughter spilled out of her soft lips. “So you’re jealous? That’s it?” Her brow shot up in challenge.
“Jealous of Thatcher?” I seethed. “I’m not fucking jealous.”
“No? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you are. Didn’t you like hearing Thatcher and his friend had their hands on my body? They were so close to me, I could feel the warmth of their breath against my skin.” My body began to tremble with rage as she kept talking. Kept describing what Thatcher and his guy had done to her.
“Felicity...”
“What, Jason?” she said, sharply. “Does it hurt to hear they wanted me? That they wanted to hurt me? Because I think he would have. I think he would have taken me right there—”
“Stop, okay,” My chest heaved, and I rubbed my breastbone trying to ease the tightness. “Just stop.”
“Why? Why should I?” Unshed tears collected in the corners of her eyes and I suddenly realized she wasn’t baiting as much as unleashing her own anger at the situation.
“Let me in, Giles,” I said, sliding my foot into the gap.
“No.” A single tear escaped, rolling down Felicity’s cheek. “You need to leave. Just go, Jason.”
“Come on, babe. Let me in.”
“You don’t care about me,” she whispered.
“I care,” I admitted. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t.”
Her eyes flew to mine, searching. Looking for answers I didn’t have. It was a battle of wills and I didn’t know who would break first.
“Fine,” she eventually relented, “but you can’t stay. My parents are—”
“Who said anything about staying?” I smirked as I stepped inside earning me one of her trademark eye rolls.
The door clicked shut behind us and I flinched, the sound like a gunshot to the chest.
What the fuck was I doing? She was okay, I could see that. Maybe a little shook up and angry, but she’d sassed at me the way she usually did. The fight sparking in her sea-green eyes.
“Nice place,” I said, filling the awkward silence.
“It’s not much different to your house.” She smiled faintly, leading me down the hall I knew would open out to the kitchen.
“You didn’t come to the party?”
“I didn’t feel much like socializing.” Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug as she went to turn away from me.
“Hey.” I grabbed her arm and pulled gently, backing her up against the counter. Her breath hitched, her eyes alight with so much emotion I felt winded. How could one girl—one quirky, no-filter, pain-in-the-ass girl—affect me so much with a single look?
“You okay?”
“I...” Felicity slid her hands up my chest, her touch like wildfire, blazing a trail of heat. “I think so.”
“Thatcher just wanted to scare you.”
“Yeah, well, it worked.”
My chest squeezed again. Too many people were being dragged into this thing between me and Thatcher. First Hailee, then Cam, and now Felicity. If I wasn’t careful, soon there would be too many moving pieces for me to keep tabs on.
“What did you do that was so bad?” Her voice was quiet even in the silence.
Shit. She could have asked me any other question and I probably would have answered... but this was the one thing I never wanted her to know about me.
But instead of clamming up and distracting her with kisses and touches, I found myself saying, “There was this girl.”
Felicity tensed, her eyes full of bewilderment. “A girl? Like Jenna?”
“No, not like Jenna.” I grimaced. “Jenna is no one.”
Felicity arched a brow at that.
“She’s just someone to pass the time. A willing body.” Jesus, it sounded so fucking awful out loud.
“Ew, gross,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes.
“Hey,” I slid my fingers underneath her jaw and tilted her face up, “you asked.”
“I know, I just... ugh, I hate her.”
“You sound a little jealous, Giles.” The idea had me feeling a little smug.
“It’s not exactly on my list to watch the guy I’m...�
�� She stopped herself and I found myself wanting to pull the words out of her but I wouldn’t. “It hurt seeing the two of you together is all.”
“Together, me and Jenna weren’t...”
Fuck.
Bell’s.
“That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“You mean you didn’t take her back to the storeroom and fuck her?” Her eyes darted away. “Could have fooled me.”
My spine stiffened; the urge to argue with her strong. Felicity was only half-right; I hadn’t fucked Jenna that night, but she had given me head.
Shame was a feeling I was unfamiliar with, but it didn’t dull the impact.
“I didn’t fuck her,” I said, as if it mattered.
“Whatever, Jason.” She looked at me again. “This, us, it’s all a game. And like I said the other night in your bathroom, I’m not sure I want to play anymore.”
The bathroom. Shit. That had been a mistake. I was drunk and angry and she was right there, my own personal punching bag.
Rather than acknowledge that clusterfuck, I inched closer, erasing the sliver of space between us. “You sure about that?”
Felicity’s lips parted on a soft intake of breath. “What are you doing, Jason?” Her voice trembled.
“I thought it was obvious. I’m here because I couldn’t stand the idea of Thatcher hurting you.”
“Because you’re jealous.” It didn’t come out sassy this time.
“I’m not…” Rubbing the back of my neck, I mulled over what to say next. When really all I wanted to do was kiss her. After all, didn’t they say actions spoke louder than words?
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” My lips hovered dangerously close to hers. It would have been so easy to crash my mouth down on hers. But I wanted to savor her, to taste every inch of her skin.
I wanted to lose myself in her, and that disarmed me.
“Your eyes are so dark,” she said. “It’s like they’re black.”
“They say the eyes are the window to the soul. So what does that say about me?”
“I think it says you’re deadly.” Felicity leaned into me, our noses brushing, lips almost touching.
“Deadly, huh?”
We moved closer still.
“And dangerous...”
“Definitely dangerous,” I echoed, tasting her. Once. Twice.
“Don’t prove me wrong, Jason,” her words slammed into me but I didn’t have time to process them, because her mouth sealed over mine and I knew the game had just changed.
And I wasn’t sure of the rules anymore.
Chapter Thirteen
Felicity
Jason was in my house.
It shouldn’t have been the only thought consuming my mind as his lips trailed over my skin, nipping and sucking, but it was.
Jason was here.
Because he was worried.
About me.
I didn’t know what to do with that.
I wanted to store it for future reference; to lock it away for the next time I needed to remind myself he wasn’t just a conceited asshole. But I knew it was a dangerous thing—to let myself believe this meant anything more than right here, in this moment. Jason belonged to Rixon. He had the hearts of almost every single person in our small town. There wasn’t room for mine too. Yet, I found myself falling down the rabbit hole anyway.
Somehow, we managed to make it upstairs to my room without breaking contact. Our clothes scattered in a haphazard trail from my door to my bed which looked better than ever with a half-naked Jason Ford sprawled over it.
“Come here.” He crooked a finger at me, pushing up on his elbows to watch me. When I reached the bed, he shuffled to the edge, planting his feet on the floor. “You always sleep in a Raiders t-shirt?” He fingered the oversized blue and white shirt, pulling me until I stood between his legs.
“I’ll take the fifth,” I said around a coy smile.
“You will, huh?” His hands painted a torturous path up and down my legs, every time inching higher until his fingers were brushing the apex of my thighs. “I like you in Raider colors.” His eyes glittered with lust, but I tried hard not to read between the lines.
Don’t get sucked in.
Don’t fall for his bedroom talk.
Don’t let this become more than it is.
“But I think I prefer you like this.” He pushed the shirt up my hips, all the way over my body until it was bunched around my shoulders. I pulled it off the rest of the way, baring myself to him.
“Perfect,” his voice was strained and I loved it. Loved that I affected him so much because God only knew, he made me melt.
The old me, the me before senior year, wanted to ask a million questions.
What did this mean?
Did he want me or just hot anger-fueled sex?
Did he feel even an ounce of what I felt for him?
But the new me, the girl with a senior year bucket list, stuffed down all the doubt and willingly walked into the lion’s den. Because deep down, maybe I did want my chance to tame the beast.
Jason smoothed one of his hands up my stomach causing me to shiver. “You like that?” He asked huskily, staring up at me with a lazy smirk. “What about this?” His fingers closed around one of my nipples, pinching, and a bolt of pleasure shot through me.
“Oh God.” I tried to swallow the moan building, but his touch was like kryptonite.
His other hand joined the party, rolling and plucking until my knees began to buckle.
“Jason, stop, I can’t...”
“Too much?”
I nodded, my body melting against him. Before I could catch my breath, he’d pulled me onto the bed and rolled me beneath him. “Do you have any idea how much it turns me on knowing no one has been here?” He slid his hand between us, cupping me. “Except me.”
Jason pressed a finger against me, rubbing me through my damp panties. I wanted him to pull them to the side and touch me, really touch me, but he seemed content in taking his time. Teasing me. Driving me wild.
He rocked back, standing at the foot of the bed. His tight-fitting boxers left very little to the imagination and I almost came right there when he grasped himself, squeezing roughly.
“Jason...”
“What do you want, babe?”
Everything, I wanted to say. But instead, I squeaked, “You.”
Eyes dark and hooded, he climbed back over me, kissing me deep and hard. Our tongues danced a fast-paced rhythm, tangling and swirling together until I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.
His hard length rocked against me, making me wetter, needier. My sexual experiences left little to be desired compared to this. Jason was barely even touching me and I felt him everywhere; my synapses firing off in all directions, heat swimming in my veins.
My hand glided down his hard abs, cut to perfection from hours and hours of physical conditioning. But when I grazed his dick, Jason snagged my wrist, pinning it to the mattress at the side of my head.
“Patience,” he said against my lips before diving back into the kiss. His tongue stroked every inch of my mouth before he moved to my jaw, drifting down the slope of my neck and along my collarbone. I writhed against him, desperate for him to end the sweet torture. But something told me he was only just getting started.
The thought both exhilarated and terrified me.
On a normal day, Jason was a lot to handle. Too much. But like this—half-naked, his skin pressed up against my skin, his mouth latched onto my neck, his hands curled into the flesh on my hip—he was lethal.
Jason broke the kiss again but only to move down my body. He dipped his tongue into my navel, swirling it around. Something so insignificant wasn’t supposed to feel so erotic, but it did. My toes curled, my body aching to be closer to him.
“These need to go,” he whispered against the inside of my thigh, dragging my panties down my legs. I was naked now, fully exposed to the guy I knew would never give me everything I needed.
Everything I wanted.
But I couldn’t find it in myself to care, not with his mouth hovering over my most intimate place. “Has anyone ever kissed you here?” he asked huskily.
“N- no,” I panted.
He grinned wickedly before diving for me. His mouth and tongue hot and heavy as he licked and stroked. Jason pressed a finger inside me, then another. I moaned, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.
“You taste so fucking good.” His other hand trailed back up my body, resting between my breasts, pinning me to the bed as he dived back in, eating me with an intensity that had me moaning and bucking off the mattress.
But Jason was a tease. Pulling away every time I almost fell off the edge. Taunting my warm skin with tiny kisses along my inner thighs, rewarding my cries with a deeper press of his fingers. My hands fisted his hair, desperately trying to move his head to where I needed him most, but he was strong.
And I was a breathless wrung out mess.
“Jason, please...”
Finally, he relented, attacking me with his mouth, his tongue licking and flicking my clit with fervor. My body began to tremble, the force of my orgasm tearing through me before I had time to prepare myself.
Jason climbed back up my body, licking his fingers clean before tracing them over my lips. “See how good you taste.” I sucked one into my mouth, high on the lust burning in his eyes, the carnal growl rumbling in his chest as I tasted myself on his finger.
“I think I’m dead,” I breathed out, barely able to form words.
“They don’t call me God for nothing.” He smirked before kissing me, long and deep and painfully slow.
“I want to feel you,” I yawned, my hand drifting down his cut abs.
“Later,” he insisted, rolling off me and tucking me into his body, my back to his solid chest.
“Are we spooning?” I asked, confused he wanted to cuddle rather than have sex.
“You’re exhausted,” was all he said as the weight of what had just happened settled over us. After a couple minutes of silence, I asked, “Jase, what are we doing?”
He stiffened behind me and I half-expected him to get up, yank on his clothes, and make a run for it. But he didn’t. His lips pressed tiny kisses along my shoulder, stirring a fresh wave of desire in my tummy.