by Tessa Bailey
It takes Jack some time to continue and I’m grateful. Grateful as the full minute ticks by, so I can force my breathing to stay normal. My bones are shaking, but I’ll be damned before I let Jack see the righteous anger beginning to trickle in, my intuition beginning to hum in anticipation of the oncoming blow.
“They tied my hands.” He clears his throat. Loudly. Like he can’t control it. “I didn’t like what was happening and I wanted to express that, but I kept my mouth shut instead. Men were supposed to want sex—I was supposed to—so saying no would mean something was wrong with me, right? I don’t know. It felt wrong . . . but my body reacted, so they kept going. Felt like it went on forever. Why didn’t I say no?” His eyes are apologetic, focused on me and it’s everything I can do not to cry. “In my head, I was screaming it, but I just bit down and let it happen. Let them use me. And through it all, the only thing that made what was happening bearable was being drunk. I . . . hid inside the buzz. Let it blank my mind. Same way I do now every time I think about what happened. Or shit, any time I—” He throws back his shoulders, jaw clenching. “Anyway, that’s all I got. Thanks for listening.”
Jack
Katie hasn’t said a word since we left the meeting. Did I go too far?
Her fingers are threaded through mine as we walk towards her hotel. That physical contact and the fact that she hasn’t split yet is the only thing keeping me sane. Swear to God, I didn’t plan on dropping my baggage on a room full of strangers. I also wasn’t expecting to listen to their stories and feel like I belonged there. I’m not the only one that plans their day around drinking or not drinking. How about that?
So I’d taken a shot and shed about nine layers of skin, right there for Katie to see. And Jesus Christ, I’m not sure it helped yet. There was an expectation in my gut that finally saying the words I’d kept inside for eight years would be a relief. Or I’d experience some magical lightness. Honestly, though? I still feel dirty. Still feel like Jack.
It seems like forever I’ve been punishing myself for not saying no that night. For closing my eyes and vanishing into my buzz while control was taken from me. Maybe it would have been more productive or therapeutic to be mad at the women who tied me up, but that anger and guilt has always been directed squarely at myself. I should have done something. Said something. If I’d tried hard enough to stop what was happening, my mind and body wouldn’t have retreated to two different camps afterwards, my body continuing to seek satisfaction while my mind told me fulfilling those needs was a weakness. Just like it had been that night.
Nothing I do with Katie makes me feel weak, though. Only strong. Capable. I choose to be clearheaded when I’m with her. I don’t have to make bad decisions to justify my guilt, because for the first time, someone believes I’m capable of making good ones. I’m slowly starting to trust that belief as well, but I’m still standing on shifting sand after exposing myself at the meeting. Not knowing what’s on Katie’s mind is tearing me up.
We ride the elevator to her hotel room in silence, although her head is lying on my shoulder, so I’m calm. For now. When we step inside her room, though, the tension inside me ratchets up, watching Katie rock on the balls of her feet, standing just out of my reach.
“If you can’t look at me the same now, honey, just tell me.” My blood is either a thousand degrees or twenty below zero. I can’t tell. “Put me out of my misery.”
Katie goes still. “Can’t look at you the same?”
“Yeah.” I rip off my jacket and fumble it, sighing when it falls to a heap on the floor. Part of me wants to do the same, the honesty of the last couple of hours making me exhausted. “Look, you wanted to help. But if this problem of mine is too much for you, I understand, huh? I’m sure as hell going to argue and try to change your mind, but give me a starting point. Something, Katie.”
“I do look at you differently,” she whispers through stiff lips.
Her words hit my stomach like a semitruck. “Okay. All right—”
“You’re even more amazing to me now.” Her exhale is so heavy, she sags a little. “You’re brave, Jack. And yes, you’re stubborn to carry that awful memory around without telling anyone, because what happened to you was awful. It was wrong. But to walk up in front of those people a-and bare yourself like that? I’m so proud of you. That’s how I’m looking at you.”
“So what is it?” Relief is finally drifting in, lightening the metal I swallowed eight years ago. Knowing Katie doesn’t think worse of me—is even proud of what I did—has allowed it to happen, and fuck, it’s like running at top speed without moving my legs. Almost. “Why aren’t you over here in front of me, where I need you to be?”
She presses both hands to her cheeks without responding.
“Katie.” I breathe in. Out. “Please.”
“You told me once that looking at yourself in the mirror after sex is difficult. Now that I know why, now that I know you drink to numb yourself, I’m worried you have that same problem with me. After we—”
“No.” A laugh tumbles out of my throat, because this worry of hers is one I can lay to rest. Finally, something I can actually control. “When I told you everything is different with you, I meant it.” My voice is sliced raw and I don’t care. “I’ve never held someone through the night until you. Never needed someone’s skin against mine so badly I can’t eat or think. Not ever.” Her body relaxes and she’s about to come to me, but I’m not done. I didn’t share everything in that meeting because some of the explanation belongs only to Katie. “Before what happened, women always looked at me a certain way. And I understood that interest between men and women because I lived with it, right there in my home. But after that night, it became less about fun and more about . . . doing what I was meant for. If I couldn’t open my mouth and say no that night, why shouldn’t the answer always be yes? Wasn’t I supposed to enjoy it?” I tuck my thumbs through my belt loops. “By then, I was drinking more and more often. So I stopped caring about being anything more than . . . serviceable. That’s what I was good for. This whole time, until you, that’s how I’ve been living.” I pause for a breath. “It’s more than that, though. I’ve hated myself for not saying no and . . . fuck, until you, I was saying yes to punish myself.”
A whimpering sound slips out of Katie’s mouth and my body moves on instinct, closing the distance between us, cupping her face in my hands. “Until me?” She covers my hands with hers. “You promise it always feels right afterwards now?”
“Right is an understatement, Katie,” I say, my tone rough. “You looked for more in me so I went to go find it. There’s no guilt in saying yes to you when you look at me . . . and I feel like more. Like I might have something to give.”
“You are more.” She studies me a beat, then nods, her gaze shining. “But I’d like to shank those bitches.”
A laugh puffs out of me, making her frown. This girl. She’s in my goddamn bones and she’s going to stay there. Whether she leaves or not. “If you’d come to my mother’s the morning I fixed the boiler, you’d have gotten your chance.”
Flames light in her eyes. “They were there. That’s why you—”
“Yeah.” My thumb brushes her cheek. “I’m sorry. It caught me by surprise.”
Just remembering the way they’d hugged me, leered at me, is multiplying the hot clench in my stomach. Does the urge to drink accompany it? Yes. Hell yes, it does. Shooting at the range helped calm the cravings over the last couple of days, but I have no weapon in my hand at the moment. So I focus on counting the freckles strewn across Katie’s nose until I come out the other side of the need. This demon is one I’m going to fight forever, but I’m not going to give up. When I decided to stop hurting the people who took the risk of caring about me, I didn’t take that vow lightly.
“I’m sorry you had to face that alone,” Katie murmurs, watching me with concern. “Sorry for every time you have to face it in the future.”
“It’s okay,” I say, to make her feel better.
Even though it’s growing more obvious with every passing minute that I’m going to be pretty goddamn far from okay when she leaves. The worst of the craving has passed, but there’s still a layer of grime on me, leftover from spilling my guts. Laying a kiss on Katie’s nose, I back towards the bathroom. “Listen, I’m just going to rinse off. Be right out.”
Her right shoulder lifts slowly, tucking up near her ear. “You didn’t shower after training today?”
“Yeah, I did.” Katie is seeing right through me again, so I turn on a heel and enter the bathroom, already stripping off my shirt. After flipping on the hot water tap, I meet my own eyes in the mirror, which is like a slap in the face. A reminder to be truthful and stop hiding. “All those things I said . . .” Her small form appears in the doorway. “They’re just sitting on my skin, you know. Making me feel filthy. I don’t want to feel anything but clean when I touch you, Snaps.” Because her expression is so heartbroken, staring back at me in the mirror, I toss her a wink over my shoulder. “You are going to let me touch you, right?”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation, before closing the bathroom door and peeling off her shirt. Damn, she looks pissed. Pissed and topless. My cock presses against the zipper of my jeans, begging to be let out. “But you’re clean for me right this minute. Just as you are. So I’m not letting you wash an inch.”
My heartbeat drowns out the drumming shower spray.
Chapter 21
Katie
I’ve never fancied myself a natural-born seductress, but maybe I was wrong. Jack looks ready to fall on his knees as I saunter close, then change directions, climbing into the shower. Pulling the heavy curtain closed behind me, cocooning myself in the steamy darkness, I wait, letting the hot water glide over my back, down my face. Only about three seconds pass before Jack follows, slowly closing in behind me, his energy wrapping around me and squeezing like a python. His big hands settle on either side of me, braced on the marble wall, and we simply exist in the lack of light, gaining strength from one another.
When he releases a long, ragged breath against the back of my neck, I’m filled with purpose. There’s no logic here or right answers, there’s only the blueprint my heart is demanding I follow.
The impact of his confessions has left me aching, but as I turn around to face him, I bolster myself. Because Jack’s head is hanging forwards, his eyes are closed, muscles bunched. And I’m going to heal him. For now, at least. Just an increment along the scale of recovery he’ll need to face. I’m not so confident that I believe my touch can turn his tide, but right now, when we’re the only two people in the world, my pulse, that steady, insistent thrumming, does believe it.
Soothe, fix, heal, love.
My body has been blocking the shower spray, so Jack is mostly dry. Until I trail my wet hands down his ridged torso, leaving dampness in my wake. Immediately, his body begins to shudder, his stomach muscles clenching and releasing. His breath runs short when I conform my thumbs to the grooves of his hips, pressing, stroking. Between my legs, I’m warm and slippery already, just having him close. Every inch of me yearning for what he can give me.
But this is about me giving to him.
“Kiss me, Jack?”
His mouth is on mine before I’m prepared, sending me stumbling back a step in the shower. No matter, though, because he gathers me back by my elbows, making a hoarse sound as our lips part, tongues meeting on a starved lick. His erection is thick against my belly, tempting my palms, making them spark and tingle. So I don’t deny them. I can’t when his mouth is making me frantic, when he presses his forehead to mine between kisses and whispers my name. As soon as I enclose him in my fist, he breaks the kiss and makes a choked noise, his gaze glassy and unfocused. “Christ, I’m never going to get used to how good it feels when you touch me. Nothing ever felt right until you, Katie. You know?”
“I know,” I manage, even though my mind is blown. Even though it settles responsibility more firmly on my heart, my mind. “Look at me.”
His breath rasps against my mouth, green eyes a mere inch from mine. “Always.”
I fail to swallow. “You’re not dirty, Jack. You never were. You never will be.”
“You can’t know that,” he whispers, lines creasing his forehead.
My hand slides down his heavy column of flesh, then strokes back up as he moans through clenched teeth. “Yes, I can know. Tell me and I’ll believe you.”
Wariness steals through his big frame. “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . .” I go up on my tiptoes, laying kisses on his lips while my hand stays busy, pumping up and down on his stiffness. “I know you had a physical before the academy, which means you’re all clear. Have you used protection every time since then?”
“Yes. I’ve never, Katie. Never without.”
Our foreheads bump when I nod. “So tell me you’re clean, like I know you are.”
His breath races in and out. “I can’t let us do this. You’re—”
“I’m on the pill.” With lust lacing in my blood like lightning, I bring his erection between my legs, dragging it through my wet heat. “Yes or no, Jack?”
There’s no earthly description for the sensation of a man’s muscles shaking, the heat of his hands hovering above my ass, his flesh thickening in my hand. It’s the epitome of anticipation. An aphrodisiac. “Yes, I’m clean for you, but—”
He breaks off with a growl when I tuck the head of him inside me. A plump, pulsing inch that stretches me and zaps eagerness to my nerve endings. “Have me.” I raise my knee, resting it on Jack’s hip. The movement allows him to slip deeper, just a touch, but I might as well have pushed him in all the way, his reaction is so intense. I’m pinned to the wall by his eyes. They’re digging past layers of tissue and burrowing their way into my soul, making a permanent home. He’s unsure, but hungry. Desperate and hopeful.
“Katie, honey.” He shakes his head. “I’m only clean on the outside.”
“No. That’s nonsense. Look at me and trust me. Do you trust me?”
He sounds almost tortured when he answers, closing his eyes. “Yes.”
His concern for me is going to win. I can see it blanketing everything else. So I burn down his resistance. “Fuck me, Jack.” I guide him deeper, rolling my hips, exulting as his mouth drops open, his chest heaves. “Show me how much you want me. Prove it.”
Jack
Prove how much I want her?
My hips are moving before the command fully forms in my brain. Pushing forwards and up like a well-oiled machine. I’m too rough, way too aggressive as I surge forwards, filling Katie with my cock. Lights and shadows flicker and dance in front of my eyes when that tightness surrounds me. When her ragged gasp greets my ears.
I’m cutting off her oxygen and I need to move back, need to stop pressing against her so hard—she’s flattened between me and the wall—but I’m reeling from the sensation of her warm pussy. It’s clenched around my dick without a barrier of latex and it’s not just the insane feeling. No, no . . . it’s the fact that it’s Katie. She trusts me this much? I don’t deserve it. God fucking knows I don’t, but I’m pulsing head to toe, my heart screaming at me, laboring under the weight of the responsibility she’s giving me. Having her without protection, being trusted at my word by this girl . . . it’s a responsibility I didn’t even know I needed so much. Katie knew. She sees me. She’s inside me, under me, around me. And it’s still not enough.
I want inside of her, too. So deep she can’t dig me out.
“Jack,” she half gasps, half whimpers. “Please.”
My hands tighten on her ass, trying to heft her higher, but I’m crowding her so closely against the wall, it’s a long, torturous drag of petite curves over muscle. Every single wet inch of her body slides between me and the wall, until her pussy is positioned at the exact height where I need it. So I can pound her. So I can own her for life.
Her mouth is just above mine now, her thighs clamped around my hips. And someth
ing about those lips, the ripe berry color, how they part to accommodate her breaths, burns me with a fevered need to worship them. “Thank you,” I groan, swooping in to feast on her with a tongue kiss so nasty, I should be delivering it to her cunt. “Thank you, mouth.”
“You’re thanking my mouth?” She breathes, her eyes glazed over, head falling back.
I hum low in my throat, leaning forwards to lick a path up the side of her neck. “Your lips open so you can breathe, right? I’m thanking them for helping my girl breathe.” Keeping her propped with my lower body, I take one hand off her sweet ass, dragging it down between her tits. “Thank you heart for beating. Lungs for staying filled. All the things I can’t do for you, but wish I could.”
Tremors pass through her body, her hands lifting, dragging me in for a kiss. A kiss so raw and full of everything—lust, torture, happiness, sun, mountains, sky—my breaths rasp in and out by the time we break away, joined by the pelting of the shower spray that lands on my skin. “It feels so different than the first time,” Katie whispers at my mouth. “There’s nothing but good. I-I need you to move. You have to move.”
Yes. The second she challenged me to prove how much I want her, I was lost. Nothing can bring me back now. I’m so mesmerized by her open, beautiful face, the heat of her pussy wrapped around my dick, all I can do is work myself to the point of agony for her pleasure.
Unfortunately, I could come right now.
With a condom on, sex with Katie obliterated me, but this? My balls are hard as stones and tucked up against the base of my cock, expecting me to relieve them inside the tightest space I’ve ever known. Sorry, boys. I haven’t even moved yet and I already know I’m never, ever going to recover from this. We might be fucking—and make no mistake, I’m going to bang her brains out—but my balls aren’t the only part of me in danger of imploding. She’s got my heart in a chokehold, too.