by Kate Hewitt
And how unfair was it that he’d never even got the chance to tell her he cared, to see if she cared, too?
Because even now, with her looking at him as if she just wanted him gone, Jaiven believed she cared about him, at least a little. Maybe she was scared, just like he was. Maybe if she just listened—
“I think you should go,” she said quietly, and turned her head as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him.
Anger exploded inside Jaiven, an emotion so dark and churning he felt as if it blurred his vision, his thoughts, everything. He couldn’t even name its source; all he could do was feel the injustice of it, the pain of her rejection. She hadn’t even given him a chance.
“Just let me in the fucking apartment, Louise,” he snapped, and she stilled, her eyes flaring with surprise.
Jaiven winced, shame roiling through him. He’d just given her a glimpse into the darkness of his soul and obviously she hadn’t liked what she’d seen.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I didn’t mean that.”
Louise didn’t answer, just stared at him as if he’d grown another head. Turned into a monster.
And that’s what you are. You are a monster, and you’ll never be able to hide it. Never be able to convince someone to care about you. You didn’t tell Louise a damn thing and she still knows. She still sees the truth of you.
And that made him even angrier. So angry that he couldn’t think. Couldn’t clear the red mist from his brain.
Somehow he managed to choke out, “I just want to talk to you. Please, Louise.”
She stared at him for another endless beat, and then she turned back to her door. “Fine,” she said tonelessly, and opened the door.
Jaiven followed her into the apartment, barely noticing the comfortable clutter of books and scarves and framed prints. A cat cannonballed into the little foyer and twined itself between Louise’s legs, purring plaintively.
Jaiven raked a hand through his hair, fumbled for words. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and Louise tossed her heels onto the floor, reaching down to stroke her cat before she straightened again, her back nearly quivering with tension.
“Look, Jaiven,” she said, still not facing him, “it’s over.”
Jaiven leaned against the closed door, his mind spinning emptily before it finally snagged on those words. “It’s over,” he repeated, and he didn’t know if he were asking for confirmation or just stating a fact.
“Yes. I was thinking about it today and I’m just not into it anymore.” Her back was still to him, and he knew, he just knew, she wasn’t telling the truth. Not even close.
“Bullshit, Louise.”
She whirled around, color flaring into her face. “Don’t tell me what I think—”
“I’m telling you what you don’t think. You’re still into us. Into me.”
She let out a huff of scornful laughter that scraped him raw. “You are so full of yourself.”
But he wasn’t, not remotely. In that moment he felt every inch the needy boy who had begged his father to pay attention to him. His mother to forgive him. The woman he’d loved to love him back.
All the while feeling, knowing inside he wasn’t worth loving. He would never be worth loving.
And Louise is the same. She doesn’t even know what you’ve done and she still doesn’t think you’re worth a shit.
So why was he here? Why was he putting himself through this torture?
Because even now, with everything she’d said, he believed she cared about him. And even though there was still so much she didn’t know, Jaiven clung to that. He needed her too much. He couldn’t walk away now.
*
Louise took an instinctive step backward from Jaiven, from the look of predatory intent she saw on his face.
From the moment she’d seen him on her landing he’d been edgy and angry, and it rang about a million alarm bells inside her. In all their time together she’d always trusted him. Felt safe with him. It had been, she realized now, the emotional bedrock on which she’d been able to have the liberating, fantasy sex.
But now he looked different, darker, and while she wasn’t exactly scared, she didn’t like this stranger he’d become. Didn’t like the panic she felt clawing inside herself.
“Jaiven…”
He took a step toward her, his mouth curving in a sensual, knowing smile. “You don’t really want me to go, Louise.”
She glared at him, or tried to, because even now she was conflicted. Tormented. “I need you to go,” she said quietly, far more of a confession than she’d wanted to make.
He took another step toward her, and he was close enough so she could feel the heat coming off him. Breathed in the intoxicating scent of him. She knew she should resist, had to resist because this whole exchange tonight had been so terribly reminiscent of her experience with her ex-husband. The anger. The swearing. The ordering around. And she was too strong now to scrape or beg, to apologize or even just to hear him out.
He didn’t deserve a moment more of her time.
She opened her mouth to tell him so, and then he reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lips before he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
The caress was so unexpectedly gentle that Louise felt completely wrong-footed. She ached inside, for a million different things. For safety. For freedom. For Jaiven to touch her again.
“I need to stay,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes, her defenses devastated with a single whisper. “Jaiven…”
“Please,” he said, and then he bent his head and kissed her.
This was, Louise knew, a bad idea. A really bad idea. She’d just told him it was over, and he was obviously trying to prove otherwise. Maybe he asked sweetly, still kissed wonderfully, but she knew it had to be over.
For her sake. For her sanity and safety.
And yet her mouth opened under his and her hands fisted in his shirt as she drew him closer. So much for ending it. So much for being that strong.
Except maybe this could still be about being strong, she thought hazily as Jaiven deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to him so her curves connected with the hard wall of his chest, and he slid his hand down to cup her butt.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her tongue stroking his. She heard him moan. Yes, this could be about being strong. He was trying to prove something, and she would, too. She’d end it with a bang, she decided. She’d take what she’d wanted, and then she’d make him leave.
Jaiven was backing her out of the hallway, toward her living room. She steered him back down the hall, toward her bedroom. Her bed.
Her hands fumbled with his tie and he shed his jacket, started unbuttoning his shirt. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she fell backward, lying there supine, prone. Her dress had ridden up her thighs.
Neither of them spoke, but Louise could hear both of their ragged breathing. Saw the fire of intent in Jaiven’s eyes, felt it in herself.
With a knowing smile, Jaiven reached over and slid his hands down her body until he reached the hem of her dress. He pulled it upward, right over her head. She even raised her arms to help him. “No granny pants tonight, I see,” he remarked as he tossed the dress onto the floor.
She just stared, her chest heaving, her heart racing. Her mind spinning too much to form a thought. Jaiven reached down and slid his hand from her ankle to her hip; her leg was encased in a sheer black stocking, and she could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin mesh.
Her breath was coming in shallow pants now, her body clamoring for more. For him. Jaiven met her gaze, and suddenly his smile looked knowing and smug. He’d proved his point. She did need him. Want him, just as he’d told her she did.
Damn it.
Well, he wanted her, too. And she’d show him just how much. She reached up and curled her hands around his biceps, pulled him down to her. Two could play this game.
Or so she hoped.
He kissed her, slow and deep, his hands roving over her body. She kissed him back, driving her fingers through his hair, pushing herself against him. Needing more.
She reached for his belt buckle, her fingers fumbling as she undid it. With a snick it fell to the floor and she tugged down his zip. He kicked his way out of his trousers and she pulled down his boxers, every movement abrupt and jerky as they fought their way to nakedness.
“Aren’t you in a hurry now,” Jaiven murmured against her mouth as he tossed her underwear onto the floor.
Yes, she was in a hurry. Dazed and desperate with desire, as she’d always been with him.
Which was why it needed to end after tonight. One last bout of fantasy sex—except Louise didn’t think this kind of encounter had ever been either of their fantasies.
*
Jaiven stretched out on top of her, tormenting her with his touches as she arched and writhed underneath him. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to guide him inside her.
He braced himself above her, gazed down at her with a triumphant smile, one eyebrow arched. “You want me, Louise?” he taunted softly. “Right now?”
She froze, realization trickling through her as she stared up at him helplessly, her body still arched to accept him even as everything inside her began to rebel.
Somehow in the midst of the sex and the rampant desire she’d forgotten the point he’d been trying to prove. How much she wanted him. How desperate she was.
And now he was determined to drive the point home, to prove it beyond doubt.
To humiliate her—just as Jack once had.
“Well?” he prompted, and she turned her head away from him. He slid his hand through her hair, tightening his grip as he forced her to look at him. Fury and fear roared to life within her. Just the feel of his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly, brought bile to her throat.
“Say it,” he demanded in a low voice. “Say ‘I want you, Jaiven.’”
“Damn you,” she choked as memories rushed through her in a sickening wave, memories of how she’d been before, with Jack. How humiliated and desperate. And now, to her utter shame, Jaiven was making her feel the same way.
“You’re not going to say it?” he said in mock sorrow, and deliberately he brushed the tip of his erection against her. Louise groaned, pressed her head back against the pillow. So this was his punishment. His revenge—and yet for what? For telling him it was over?
And she’d thought she’d cared about this man.
“Say it, Louise.”
Everything in her fought to keep silent, to stay as strong as she’d told herself she would be, and yet from a deep well of yearning, or perhaps it was self-loathing, the words came.
“I want you, Jaiven.”
“Say it again.”
Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed them shut, let out a shuddering breath. “I want you, Jaiven.”
“I know you do,” he said, and slid inside her. And even though everything in her fought against it, demanded she didn’t surrender in this way, her climax came, crashing over her, decimating her defenses.
Afterward Louise lay there, her body utterly sated and yet burning with shame.
Ironic, really, that a man who had wanted her so badly and had once made her feel so desirable and confident and strong had left her with the same dull sense of worthlessness that her ex-husband had. So terribly ironic.
She rolled onto her side, tucked her knees up to her chest, everything in her aching. Next to her she heard Jaiven stir.
“Louise—”
She had no idea what he was going to say; she didn’t care. She just wanted him to leave.
“Please,” she whispered. “Just go.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder, warm and strong. He turned her over gently and she went, unable to fight him even in this. She kept her eyes closed, at least, but then a treacherous, damning tear sneaked out from under her clenched lid and slid down her cheek. Jaiven swore.
“Louise—”
“Just go,” she choked, and another tear slipped down her cheek; in a few seconds she’d be sobbing. “Please, please, just go,” she gasped, and after a second’s pause she felt the bed dip and knew Jaiven had got up. She kept her eyes closed as she heard him hunting for his clothes, and then after what felt like an age she heard the door open and shut.
She let out a ragged sigh of agonized relief and turned back onto her side, clutched her knees to her chest. Mallow, her cat, jumped up on the bed, pressed against her, and with all her pent-up sadness and shame, Louise sobbed against his fur. She’d thought her heart had broken already, but apparently it could happen again. It had been a fragile, taped-up thing anyway, and now as she sobbed alone on her bed, her cat clutched to her, she felt it shatter.
*
Jaiven strode from Louise’s apartment, his gut churning so hard he thought he might be sick. He felt sick, appalled by his own behavior. He hadn’t let anger control him like that in years. Decades.
And with Louise…
He swore out loud, the sound vicious in the stillness of the night. A cab rode by, slowing in case he wanted a ride, and Jaiven walked on. He needed to clear his head. Think what the hell he could do to fix this.
When have you ever been able to fix anything? You just showed Louise what you’re really like. You wanted to keep your secrets and in that moment you gave them all away.
He’d shown who he really was, Jaiven realized with a sickening wave of self-disgust that had him nearly doubling over. He’d shown her how depraved, how dark, how desperate he really was. He’d never need to come clean about his prison record and his past; Louise already knew. Not the particulars, but the essence. The hateful, terrible truth. With that realization thudding through him, he straightened and walked on.
He should have gone, he knew. When Louise had told him it was over, he should have accepted it and left. He should have acted like a sane, rational human being instead of an asshole controlled by his anger and insecurity. What the hell had he been thinking, humiliating her like that? As if making her say the words, admit her desire, made any damn difference.
The truth was, Jaiven knew, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been simply reacting to the endless guilt and need and fear he still felt—and it had made him hurt yet another person.
For a heart-stopping second he was brought back to the last time he’d felt swamped by this appalled misery, when he’d watched a woman clutch her chest and crumple to the ground, her life’s blood spreading around her in a scarlet pool.
And it had been his fault. His doing. He’d paid his debt to society in prison, but could you ever really atone for such an act? Such a crime?
At least he could atone for this. He’d make it up to Louise somehow—as best as he could. For once, he’d fix the wrong he’d done.
He spent half the night in his private gym, working the hell out of a punching bag before he headed up to his office to immerse himself in work. Trying to forget, even though he knew such a thing was impossible. He’d never been able to forget.
As dawn sent a pink wash over the buildings of the Bronx, gilding the Bronx River in gold, he knew he needed to see Louise again. Make amends as best he could.
And then walk away and leave her the hell alone, just as she’d wanted him to.
*
Louise wasn’t answering her phone. Or her door. An unrecognized number had popped up on her screen three times the next morning, and she knew it had to be Jaiven. Whatever he wanted to say, she didn’t want to hear it.
She’d gone over the excruciating details of last night in her head over and over again. He’d made her body sing and her heart bleed. It was, Louise thought bitterly, a horrible combination. She burned with anger at his actions, and with shame at her own response. She’d been in an abusive relationship for over two years and she still rolled over when a man asked her to? Still begged?
Damn Jaiven. And damn herself for
having wanted him that much.
So she avoided his calls, breathed a sigh of relief when the sidewalk was empty outside her building as she headed to work. Although, did she really think he was going to chase her? Maybe that night really was punishment for calling it off first. Maybe now he was finally done with her.
Bastard.
She cabbed it to work and tried to focus on her lectures, but after three endless days and sleepless nights he still occupied her thoughts.
Why had he been so angry? What had he been trying to prove? He’d already seen for himself how much she wanted him. Why had he humiliated her by forcing her to say the words in such a brutal and calculating way?
She’d thought he was a better man than that, but she’d been wrong before. Should it really surprise her that she’d misjudged him so badly? And she’d misjudged herself, thinking she was stronger and smarter than she really was. That realization hurt just as much.
She tried to stop thinking about him, told herself it didn’t matter why Jaiven had come to her apartment on a mission of revenge and sex. All that mattered was that she was never going to see, talk to, or even think of him again.
*
Then, four days after that night, he showed up outside of her Introduction to Feminist Theory lecture. Louise saw him outside the door to the classroom as she wrapped up the lecture. Her heart started to thud and her mind went to static. Thankfully the bell rang and she managed to stumble through a conclusion before turning blindly to gather up her papers.
He was here. She felt an awful mix of terror and anticipation. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she was so afraid she’d give it to him.
Her hands shook as she tried to gather her papers into a neat pile and then just ended up stuffing them into her bag. The last of the students trickled out the door, and in the yawning silence of the lecture hall Louise could hear the ragged sound of her own breathing. The zip of her bag was like a screech, and even louder was the sound of the door opening and closing, then footsteps heading toward her, slow and deliberate. Blood roared in her ears and she still stared down at her bag.