by Brynn Ford
“You already did kiss me. Without my permission.”
His eyes locked on mine as he stepped forward, crowding me. The look of a caged and cornered animal washed over his features, though I was the one who felt cornered. His forehead nearly touched mine as he leaned toward me and got in my face.
He snarled, “Just like that, it’s my fucking fault?”
I leaned backward, but refused to step away, hissing at him through gritted teeth “Get out of my face, Jasper. Don’t you ever, ever try to intimidate me like that again.”
He pursed his lips, “I’m not Asher Fallon. How dare you even make the comparison.”
“You’re talking out of your ass now. I haven’t made any comparisons.”
“You don’t have to say it out loud,” he said, one of his hands slipping over my backside, “It’s written all over your face.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Asher still had a hold on me.
The reminder of who he was and all the things he had done to me twisted and coiled in my gut. It overwhelmed my clarity. I should’ve just accepted Law’s immediate apology and moved on, but this fear I still held onto kept me from moving forward.
Time loop.
I had thought Asher was a good man.
I had thought Asher could give me what I needed.
I had let Asher break promise after promise after promise.
Though Law had only broken this one, this seemingly insignificant one, it shook the fragile foundation on which our relationship stood.
And yet, my hips rocked forward, naturally drawn to him as both his large hands gripped my ass and held me firmly against his body. My body never reacted that way to Asher.
No, Ris.
Don’t, Ris.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
His cheek was touching mine, his lips brushed against my ear, “I want to punish you right now. I want to hurt you for the way you’re hurting me. And for the first time ever, I regret the urge.”
If Asher had said that to me, my blood would have run cold. I would’ve cowered and submitted because to fight him would only make it worse. But when Jasper said it, it made my stomach clench, my knees grow weak, and every cell in my body ache to let him.
The kind of weakness I felt for Jasper Haven was more despairing, more terrifying than the kind of weakness Asher had broken me to find. Asher inspired weakness of the mind, but Jasper inspired weakness of the heart.
“You’re still mine, Angel. But you make it so fucking hard to follow your terms under this contract,” he whispered into my ear.
My body hummed for him, mind willing or not. I clutched his shirt where it covered his chest, holding on, clinging to him with a ferocious feeling of desperation.
Desperation was a feeling I knew and a feeling I loathed. It made me feel out of control and weak. It was a feeling that drove me to dominance and because I was feeling it now, it drove me to demand what I wanted.
Can I still have what I want?
“I want to renegotiate the terms of our contract,” I blurted.
He chuckled, sighing into my hair, “Of course you do.”
He was stepping forward, moving me backward, slow steps until my back landed against one of the mirrored walls. He pinned me in place with his body, looking down at me.
“What do you want from me, Christine?”
I gave him unwavering eye contact, “I want more from you. The whole point of this contract was for the three of us to help each other, satisfy each other’s needs while we cope with this shit storm life has put us through. Desi’s needs are satisfied. And though I thought this would do it for me, and it did for a while, it’s not enough anymore.”
“Spell it out for me, then. Tell me how to make you happy.”
“I want you.”
“You have me.”
“No, Jasper, no I don’t.”
He pushed me harder into the mirror, a hand creeping up the front of my thigh, “You’re infuriating sometimes, you know that?” he fumed at me, blue flames blazing in his eyes.
“I’m challenging,” I corrected.
“Stop being a fucking challenge and just say what you want,” he dug his fingertips into my thigh.
I swallowed, “Opportunity. I want opportunity.”
Confusion smothered the flame, “What?”
“I want the opportunity for this to grow. For us to grow,” I released his shirt in favor of his silk neck tie, letting my fingers graze the smooth fabric.
"Desi still needs me. Us,” he corrected, “She needs us.”
“Of course she does. We’re her friends, she’ll always need us in some capacity. But we’re not talking about her.”
"You understand why I have to make sure she's okay.”
"No, I don't. Because she is okay. She's fine. You saw it yourself at the Queen’s Party when you demanded that she come all over my fingers."
I was indignant that he couldn’t focus on the relationship between the two of us for a millisecond before dragging Desi back into the conversation. He got stuck on Desi, just like he’d gotten stuck on Audrey.
Time loop.
"So now you’re telling me I pushed you too far with her? Well, fuck me, then, I pushed too far.”
I snapped, shoving him back with my hands on his chest, "You didn't push too far. God, why do you do that? Why do you say things like that, as if we didn't all have a choice in the matter? You think you just snap your fingers and all women just fall into line for you because it's what you want. You wouldn't get a damn thing from me if I didn't want it."
He chuckled, "Are you trying to give me a lesson about dominance and consent?"
“Apparently you need one.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and practically growled at me, “I want to bend you over and beat your ass raw right now, but your ambiguity over what you want from me makes me feel like I can’t do anything to you without asking your permission first. I feel like I’m fucking losing my mind and you don’t seem to give a shit.”
I felt need swell between my legs at the threat of his dominance punishing me into submission. It was the same need I always felt for him, yet at the same time I wanted to cry. I wanted to ball my eyes out because I was so afraid of everything I was feeling. I’d never felt so confused. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what was happening or how we’d gotten to this place.
"I just told you I want to be yours and all you're doing is standing here arguing with me. Did you hear me, Jasper? I want to be yours. I want to be your partner."
“You can’t be mine and my partner at the same time. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. And if what you wanted was a partnership, then why did you ever give me power over you, Christine? You’re fucking with my head.”
He was seething, every muscle in his body rigid as he fought to keep his restraint, fought his instinct to take control and punish me.
I felt liquid pooling at the corners of my eyes and my betraying voice cracked, “Because all I want to do is please you. But I feel like I have to sacrifice the dominant part of myself so you can be happy. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“I can't do it. Partnership. I can't give you that. You know that."
"Don’t you ever wish you could?"
He closed his eyes, "I wish I could give you everything you ever wanted. But sometimes wishing isn't good enough. I just can’t."
I laughed at the audacity, "Well, fuck you for saying that. I’m so glad to know that you don’t have the strength to change. Really, fuck you."
I had to get out of there before I completely lost my shit. This encounter wasn’t going at all as I had anticipated and I just couldn’t take it. I strode forward to leave, but he didn't let me get past him. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to him. He gripped my face with both hands, and though his gaze was fierce, his features were suddenly and unexpectedly soft.
"Don't leave. Not like that."
I hissed
, "For once in your life you could try asking instead of telling."
“Why do you insist on trying to change me? If you could just accept me the way I am, if you could just give me your submission all the time then –”
“Then what? Then I could be yours? Then you could always call the shots? Then you could always control me? Why can’t you accept me? Why can’t I be enough for you? Why do you refuse to grow? Why can’t you even try?”
Law watched my lips as I spoke, but I only saw his eyes as questions poured from me. Something beyond the soft blue flickered in acknowledgement that my questions were valid. Something softened at the same time something else hardened. His rigidity always fought so hard against the truth. It was the reason why he watched my lips instead of my eyes. He didn’t want to see his own truth reflected there.
“I don’t know what to say to you.”
“Tell me you want me, too,” I swallowed, “Do you want me?”
He pressed his hips forward into mine, “Of course I want you.”
“Not like that. I want more than that.”
“I…” he hesitated uncharacteristically, “I do, too.”
My heart skipped a beat, hope kickstarting an uneven rhythm, “Then let’s try.”
“It’s not that simple. The way you switch, that you’re asking me to be like you are, it doesn’t make sense to me. I can’t just stop being the way I am because you want me to. There’s a reason we didn’t work out before.”
“Oh, but I should just change for you, then?” fear rose in my chest and it commanded me to blame him for our failure, “The reason we didn’t work out before is you. You’re the reason I left. Because you weren’t man enough to give me what I needed. You’re the reason I went to Asher. You’re the reason he hurt me. You’re the reason he tried to kill me. You’re the reason everything is falling apart and my heart is breaking.”
The promise of tears was now a certainty as strays dripped down my cheeks. I immediately felt the horror of my words, the shame of the guilt and blame I’d just placed on him for the atrocious acts another man committed against me.
It wasn’t his fault.
I shouldn’t have said any of that.
I knew Law wasn’t the reason Asher hurt me. I’d made the choice to leave him. But I was so hurt in the moment I couldn’t control my words.
His eyes narrowed to slits and his chest rose sharply before he huffed out a breath, “Why don’t you just stab me in the heart, Christine? It would’ve hurt a whole lot less than what you just said to me.”
He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face away from him, forcing me to the edge of the sunken dance floor and bending me over a table, “Just tell me you’re sorry, Angel.”
I could hear the wanting, the sadness in his tone and I knew the cool blue of his eyes would melt me into submission if I dared to look at him over my shoulder.
“Don’t call me that.”
“I gave you that name and it’s my right to call you by it. We’re not done. You’re still mine. So tell me you’re sorry, Angel,” his voice was more insistent.
His fingers brushed my hair back over my shoulder before his body bent over mine and his face fell against my neck, nuzzling into the crook of it. It wasn’t with a sexual intent, though I felt the tug and pull of desire I had for him low in my belly all the same. The wetness that slid across my skin wasn’t from his mouth, his tongue, but rather from his tears. Law’s tears were on my skin and it threatened to break me. It occurred to me that he’d made me face away from him because he didn’t want me to see how much my words had hurt him.
“Please, Angel, tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you’re sorry for what you said. That I’m not the reason everything bad has happened to you. Don’t make me hold the weight of that.”
My words slipped from my mouth easily with the regret I felt for hurting him, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s not. But I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I can’t be okay with being your sometimes girl. I want to be your always girl. I want you. All of you. And I need you to want all of me. Can you give me what I’m asking for?”
“No,” he paused, "I don't know. I’m sorry," his body left mine all at once.
I felt lighter without his weight on me, but not pleasantly so. It was a feeling like I might float away, be lost forever in the clouds without anything to ground me, to keep me safe and sane and stable. I was heartbroken and irritated and felt like he’d just given up on me.
I sighed, rising to stand and face him, though I didn’t look at him, “It's okay, hedge your bets, Law. Though my heart may have moved on by the time you figure it out.”
How could I ever move on from this?
“Just go home, Angel. I think we’ve both hurt each other enough for one day. I’ll take you to Asher’s trial, but I think we both need some cooling off time until then.”
Two days.
I pursed my lips, wanting to curse at him, wanting to scream at him, tell him every awful thing I had ever thought about him just to hurt him more. But I knew that was only my fear trying to protect my heart. My heart never wanted him to hurt and he didn’t deserve that, least of all from me.
So I cast my eyes downward, told him, “Yes, Sir,” and left with what little of my dignity I had left.
I held it together long enough to get home before I balled my fucking eyes out alone on my bed. I cried over the man I couldn’t help but fall in love with, though he refused to love me back.
Chapter 19
Ris
Asher was already settling comfortably in his seat in the defendant's chair. I tried to hide my smile to see him there, about to stand trial for all the wrong he had done to me. He deserved punishment and it filled me with an admittedly sick sense of glee to see him in that position.
I turned my head away the moment I saw the twitch of movement in his, looking straight ahead to avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing me watching him. I could sense his eyes on me, burning the way they always had. It was the look that used to burn as intense love but had since turned darkly into loathing. It made my stomach churn and I had to remind myself that he couldn't hurt me here, he couldn't harm me anymore.
Couldn't he?
My gut boiled, festering fear building and bubbling until I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was instinct burning inside me. Asher had something planned.
In a mostly quiet courtroom where the only noise was the soft, whispered chatter of the observers, my attention was swiftly drawn to the back of the room, notified of someone's entrance by the creak of the large, wooden door swinging open. It was followed immediately by the familiar clack of high heels on the tiled aisleway between the bench rows. My eyes landed on the face of the woman entering the courtroom and my heart sunk at the sight of her.
My spine went rigid as a chill tickled along my nerves. I watched intently as the woman strode past with head high and shoulders pulled back, walking by me without so much as a brush of acknowledgment. Her thin lips were pressed as sharply as her expensive black jacket and pencil skirt. The breeze she created as she moved past was as cold as her glacial heart.
We knew each other. We had been on opposing sides of a case once and I remembered it well.
Too damn well.
It was one of the few cases I'd lost and it most certainly wasn't because my client had been guilty. It was because of this soulless, conniving, cold-hearted, corporate bitch. She'd been vicious in court, tearing apart my client's credibility shred by tiny shred. She'd been hired, not just to put my client away, but to ruin him for good. She'd done a damn fine job at it, too.
And she would be questioning me on the stand.
Desi was sitting to my left, Law to my right. Though we had fought just a few days ago without resolution and hadn’t spoken since, he came with me to trial and stayed loyally by my side as promised. Regardless of anything else, he was a good friend and I needed the support. I wasn’t in a frame of mind to brood over the confusion of our situation g
iven that my very private personal life was about to be intimately shared in this courtroom.
Law grabbed my hand from my lap and squeezed, sensing my strain. I almost wanted to yank it away, but I was too aware of the prying eyes surrounding me in the courtroom.
"What is it?" he asked, noting my obvious tension angled at the woman who had just entered the courtroom.
"Darcy Jackson. His lawyer," I replied, my eyes following her as she sat down beside Asher.
"Is that bad?"
I nodded.
Law didn't ask me more, he just held my hand tightly and kept it on his lap. He shifted, inching closer to me until our hips touched. I looked over into his baby blue eyes and felt him draw something out of me. He drew out my worry and infused me with strength in the way he looked at me. So I let him keep my hand, but I huffed and shifted, moving closer to Desi and away from him in a childish show that I hadn’t let go of our recent dispute.
Soon after, the trial began. I was forced to listen to the bullshit Darcy fed to the jury in her opening statement. It was bullshit, but the way she framed her argument was as tight as her overstretched face, pulled back by her low, taut ponytail that kept the length of her dark hair hidden behind her back.
It made her look more masculine to hide her hair in that way. I knew why she did it, I had done that countless times in court myself. It was sad, but a truth nonetheless, that people were more likely to take a man seriously in court. Men were more often viewed as authority figures by the common people that made up our juries and sometimes, women like me just had to play that game.
She knew how to play that game, too. She was good and I was scared.
I felt Asher watching me during her statement, causing me such discomfort and anxiety that my heel bounced as my leg twitched nervously. Making it worse was the overwhelming presence of the man I wanted to give my heart to sitting at my side. Law leaned in close to me, brushing my hair back over my shoulder to whisper in my ear. His fingertips sizzled when they grazed my skin.
"Look at him, Angel. You're giving him the power he wants by avoiding him. Look him in the eye. Stare him down. Take his power away. Don't back down, don't look away until his attention is called away by the proceedings."