Whether she realized it or not, it was that dialogue that might be forever imprinted in my brain. It had affected me so poignantly that I now had trouble getting air. I couldn’t get those words out of my head all weekend long and here they were laid out before me again.
Did I believe in signs? No fucking way.
Did I want to believe in them now? Hell yes.
“You look so damn gorgeous right now,” I panted as I leaned over and licked a trail along the small of Jessie’s back, my fingers tracing over those words, as if revering them. My tongue circled the edges of her tattoo and then without even questioning it, my mouth slipped over those letters one by one.
Jessie blew out a fluttery wisp of air, as if she knew unquestionably what my mouth had done. “Nate.”
I couldn’t even speak. I only reached out to encircle her chin with my fingers, needing to see her eyes. When she finally looked back at me, her gaze spoke volumes.
She knew. Fuck, she knew how affected I’d been by those words.
My lips reached to brush over her mouth and the tips of our tongues met to taste each other softly, soothingly.
“Yes,” she said. Simply. Quietly. “Show me, Nate. Show it all to me.”
I felt like I was in some surreal, lust-induced dream.
I merely nodded and began kissing her everywhere I could reach—her ears, neck, arms, and back. I positioned myself lower and spread her cheeks, licking the flat of my tongue up her center, while she moaned and nearly collapsed on the tracks. I grasped at her thighs, holding her steady and laving gently before standing up and arranging myself behind her.
As my head slipped inside her wetness, I raised my hand and slapped her cheek, hard enough that a pink line stretched across her skin. When she whimpered, I shut my eyes and held my breath waiting for her reaction.
“Do that again, Nate,” she said thrusting her ass toward me. “And then fuck me, hard.”
Holy shit, this girl might be the answer to all of my fantasies.
My tip rested at her entrance and I slapped her, harder this time, as I plunged even further inside.
And goddamn, she was tight and warm and I was practically seeing stars.
I fucked her repeatedly, sliding in as deeply as her body would allow, and then pulling almost all the way out before ramming hard again. Her ass cheeks were red as she continued to beg me for it, propelling against me wildly, using the railing as leverage.
I was going out of my mind for this girl.
I pounded into her over and over again, while tugging her hair and biting her neck. I had never been given the liberty to let loose like this and it was the most exhilarating sex of my life.
Even still, something was missing. Jessie was laid out in front of me like some sexy vixen and was already on the verge of coming undone. But I didn’t want her to be some faceless person I was screwing—I had already done that too many times to count.
And Jessie—fuck—she had just given me a goddamn gift. If I had ever allowed myself to dream, she would’ve been my flawless, sacred vision.
I slowed my thrusts and pulled her against me, my arms wrapping around her middle. “Baby, I want to see your eyes. Turn around.”
What was I even saying? With every other girl I didn’t give two fucks about her eye color, let alone whether or not she was looking at me during sex.
With help, Jessie swiveled her petite body around to face me and she immediately repositioned her legs to grip my waist.
Her gaze on me, I saw that her irises were glassy with lust and her lips were wet and puffy from biting down on them.
I needed my mouth on her that instant. I nudged her toward the railing, placing my arm behind her back to cushion her spine and then began kissing the hell out of her. My tongue invaded her mouth because I needed to taste all of her. She moaned loudly against my lips as I plunged deeply inside her.
Her fingers tunneled roughly through my hair and she began kissing and biting my mouth and jaw and ear now that she had free rein.
And it felt so damn perfect to have her lips and hands all over me. My fingers circled and rubbed her swollen nub while my mouth clamped on her nipple to help send her over the edge. She sighed and mumbled incoherently and then sagged against me.
I was on the precipice of my own orgasm and my legs began shaking as I continued driving into her.
“Give it to me, Nate,” she said, digging her nails into my back and I did, with one final hard thrust. I groaned out my release, collapsing against her, my face melding into her neck, my lips capturing the hollow of her throat.
We stayed that way—me a quivering mess, breathing her same air—not willing to lose our connection just yet.
Chapter Nineteen
Nate
With effort, I lifted my head and stared over her shoulder to the landscape down below. We were on a goddamn railroad bridge and I just had the most amazing sex of my life.
As I reluctantly withdrew, Jessie’s legs came down and found purchase on the tracks. I stepped back as if snapping out of a haze. She bent down wordlessly to gather her underwear and skirt from the ground and I caught a brief glimpse of her backside.
Her skin was swollen and red and my heart dissolved that instant and bled down to my shoes, the poison of what I’d just done to another human being seeping into my veins.
As she tugged her skirt up I stepped closer and lifted the back of her T-shirt, also witnessing evidence of our night in the hotel room. I’d marred her skin with my teeth, leaving red marks, and closer to her shoulder, what looked like the formation of a bruise.
“What are you—” When she looked back at me, her eyebrows slammed together as she took in my expression.
I was so stunned and mortified at my handiwork on this perfect girl that my legs refused to support me any longer. I sank to my knees and placed my head in my hands. “What the fuck have I done?”
I heard Jessie gasp and then felt her presence as she leaned over me. “Nate. No, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I said, rocking back on my knees. “I . . . slapped you. I . . . left marks on your beautiful skin.”
“I had plenty of marks on my skin already,” she said, her hand snaking down my back. “You didn’t hurt me. If you did, I would have told you to stop. But that, I wanted that. I asked for it.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Look at me.” Now she dropped down to the tracks with me, but I couldn’t look in her eyes. I was afraid I’d see evidence of my worst nightmare present in them. “I did want that and so did you. And it was amazing. I’ve never had a more intense experience in my life.”
“Fuuuuuuck,” I drew out the word. Could it be true that she enjoyed it just as much as I had? How could she?
“Nate, please, it’s okay . . .”
“I . . . no . . . no goddammit, it’s not okay!” I had to get away from her so I could breathe. I sprang up and headed a few feet down the tracks.
Never again . . . it’ll never happen again.
Shit, is that what my father used to say to my mother?
I felt her heat behind me and I jerked away. “I can’t, Jessie. I can’t see what I’ve done to you.”
She relented, wrapping her arms around my stomach and leaning her full weight on me so that I was forced to rest my elbows on the railing.
“Nate, what happened to you?” her voice was soft. “What happened in that house?”
Had she guessed it? Should I tell her so she could understand how I could never be with her like that again?
I’d been keeping it a dirty little secret for so long, it would feel foreign to finally release it, let it go.
“Was it your dad?” she asked and I went completely motionless, barely allowing any air to escape my lungs.
I felt her warm lips through the thin material of my T-shirt as she kissed the center of my back. “Did he . . . hit you and your brother? Is that why you . . .”
I squeezed my eyes shut as a sound erupted from the back
of my throat. Her grip on me tightened. I shook my head. “No. Not as much as he hit . . .”
I stopped myself. It would sound so ugly saying the words out loud.
“Your mom?” Her voice was small and shaky, as if unsure of whether she’d crossed a line.
Fuck, was I really that transparent to her?
I sucked in a harsh breath. That was confirmation enough.
She wriggled her way beneath my arm, forcing herself between me and the railing, so that she could be directly up against me. It felt good having her warm body so near, that I surrendered and encircled her in my arms.
She didn’t look at me, only rested her head against my chest before she spoke again. “And now you’re afraid that what you did with me was the same thing he did to your mother?”
She said it so calmly, so quietly that I pulled back to look into her eyes. Because now she saw the whole truth and there was no use hiding. “Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not,” she said, so plainly. “What we did was very different.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, exhaustion seeping in. “How’s it different?”
“Have you ever talked to someone about this, Nate?”
I jolted away from her, panic rising in my throat. “You do think I’m like him.”
“No!” she said, grasping at my shirt and forcing me back to her. “I meant just to get it out, to help you understand the distinction.”
I shook my head. “I’ve never told anybody. My girlfriend in high school? She guessed. Saw evidence of it herself.”
She nodded, probably because she herself had connected the dots. And maybe others would have too, had I permitted anyone to get as close as I allowed Jessie to get this weekend. And what had that gotten me—but a whole shitload of panic and guilt.
“Your father,” she said, her voice soft, cautious. “Used it as a fear tactic. To beat someone down, take away their dignity.”
I cringed at the truth of her statement, remembering just how plain it looked on my mother’s face time and again.
“We,”—she motioned between the two of us—“were seeking pleasure, together. That’s the difference.”
“I’m not so sure,” I whispered against the top of her hair.
“A few months after my father died from cancer, I made an appointment at the counseling center on campus. It’s free for students,” she said and then shook her head, as if remembering her point would have no staying power because I wasn’t a student struggling with finances. But it did, because my parents would never pay for a counselor. “Talking to someone helped me get through some hard months of grief.”
“I’m glad,” I said, squeezing her. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“In a way, you’re grieving, too,” she said. “You’re grieving your lost childhood. I saw it so plainly in your eyes in front of that house.”
My breaths were coming harder, faster. She was so spot-on. But she didn’t know the other part of it. “What if I end up just like him?’
“You won’t,” she said.
“But there’s already confirmation that I have. Just look at the marks on your body,” I said pulling away from her. “I’m so damn sorry, Jessie. This . . . what happened between us . . . it can never happen again.”
Chapter Twenty
Jessie
The ride home had been quiet. Nate was struggling with some heavy-duty demons and nothing I had to say seemed to have made any impact, so I left him alone with his thoughts.
All the pieces of Nate had come together for me. The way he’d been with girls. The reason he didn’t allow himself to see them as real, or feel anything with them. Kissing is intimate. My fingers traced over my swollen lips. Hell yeah, it’s intimate.
Nate sought out thrill-seeking activities, like skydiving, to feel emboldened and alive. He was so closemouthed about his family and tensed whenever his brother, Luke, had been around. But Luke seemed so opposite of Nate, he grappled way less, was probably half the person Nate was.
He was afraid of what I thought of him, that much was evident. Maybe he was terrified that I’d let his secret out, tell the guys about him. But that would never happen.
I caught him staring at my profile a bunch of times on the trip back, like he was studying me. I wish he’d just talk to me.
“Nate,” I finally said, finding my voice. “For whatever it’s worth, my weekend away with you . . . was amazing. Thank you for that.”
I didn’t look at him, but I saw him squeeze his eyes shut in my side view.
“What we did . . . what we shared,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Was so much more than some bite marks on my shoulder. And I’m glad I really got to know you.”
His gaze swung to mine, his eyes heavy with sorrow at the mention of the bites. I knew then that he wouldn’t be able to see beyond the marks.
“I’m pretty sure if we lifted up your shirt, you’d see evidence of what my teeth did to you as well,” I said, and his breath caught.
“That . . . that’s different,” he said. “I weigh more and I’m stronger than you. I could have . . . I could have . . . easily overpowered you.”
“But you didn’t, Nate,” I said, gripping my fingers so hard, they turned white on the steering wheel. “You didn’t. No chance. I wasn’t afraid of you. I’m still not.”
The car fell silent again; the only noise was the whooshing wind as the landscape flew by. And this is how I knew that Nate was in complete and utter turmoil. His knee wasn’t jiggling and his fingers weren’t drumming. He was motionless, the way I now knew he got when things were heavy and he was trying to keep the pieces of himself together.
After another mile marker, I said, “I’ll always be here for you . . . if you need a friend.”
I wanted him to know that things didn’t have to change between us, even though they already had.
I’d have to get over how it felt to be with him, having his hands and mouth all over me. Rough and tender at the same time. I wanted to tell him, to make him see that I loved experiencing all the dimensions of him. How, depending on what angle you looked at him, you saw a different side.
When I got to his apartment building he breathed a sigh of relief, like he didn’t have to hold his discomfort in any longer. My heart was in my throat as I tried to swallow away my melancholy.
He gripped the door handle and I was determined to not allow this to feel so damn awkward. “Thank you, Nate, for everything. My photography project is going to rock.”
Suddenly he turned and met my gaze. His eyes were warm and sad at the same time. “Jess, please don’t think . . . I never meant . . .”
We stared at each other for long moments. I wanted to fill in the blanks for him, but instead I gave him the opportunity to do it himself. At least I prayed he would.
His fingers reached toward me and his firm hands cupped my face. I sucked in air as his lips hovered closer to mine. “It’s never been that way with any other girl. Ever.”
He brushed his lips across mine and my entire body prickled in response.
“You did something to me . . . brought something out in me,” he whispered. “Something I need to figure out. Something I liked doing. But also something I . . . loathe about myself.”
“Maybe . . .” I tried to get the words out as he stared so intently into my eyes. “Maybe it was the very thing you needed.”
I took a deep breath as he went still. “Maybe it only scared you because you never felt it before. Had the freedom to feel it before.”
“Fuck!” he said and then crushed his lips to mine in a bruising and all-consuming kiss. One that I felt to the very depths of my heart. His tongue traced over my teeth and gums and the roof of my mouth, tasting me everywhere, as if savoring it one last time.
Then he dragged his mouth away, shoved the door open and fled the car.
Nate practically sprinted to his apartment building without once turning around and I was left there, reeling and out of breath from that damn k
iss.
Chapter Twenty-one
Jessie
For the next twenty-four hours, I could still feel him on me. The raw stiffness everywhere on my body, especially between my legs, where his lips had tugged at my skin. I liked that I could sense him and I despised it too, because it was a reminder of what I could never have again. At least not like that. But I’d probably take him any way I could, even as a friend.
I ran my fingers across my swollen lips in an effort to re-experience where his mouth had been. I had Nate on top of me and inside me and it was excruciating to think about when I’d even get the chance to see him again. Normally I saw glimpses of him around campus, at the bar, or in the shop—but if he was going to avoid me, which I suspected, we would probably be apart for even longer.
I took a lengthy shower and then headed to the university darkroom to develop some rolls of film. I needed to know what I was working with, which shots came through, in order to further formulate the photography project in my head.
The college had darkrooms for our private use, but students had to have authorization to use them. We kept a log in case someone got careless and mixed up compounds or forgot to clean up after themselves.
The university afforded the space, equipment, and chemicals, and we provided our own photography paper, which could get pricey, so I tried to use it sparingly. I surrendered my student ID to the guy working the desk and then closed the darkroom door behind me.
I snapped on my latex gloves and got to work preparing the three trays that would house the developer, stop bath, and fixer, keeping the checklist of procedures in my head for safe chemical use. You weren’t allowed to use the darkrooms unless you’d already taken a couple of prerequisite courses and those classes were heavy on proper practices and hazardous waste disposal. I was already used to safety procedures at Raw Ink, working around needles all day, so that this part came natural to me.
I shut off the overhead switch and clicked on the safelight, which had a soft amber glow. I loved the solitude and quiet of working in the darkroom, producing images with my own hands, determining exposure level and size—it was all so satisfying.
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