Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JESSIE
“ W hatcha making?” Mia asks, padding through to the kitchen.
She took a shower and announced that my bathroom could swallow her entire dorm in one. It’s nothing compared to Jensen and Kate’s new place, but it’s still a lot more than most people have.
“Grilled cheese, but it’s technically not cheat day for me, so I threw in a tossed salad.”
She snorts a laugh and makes an appreciative noise at how good it smells. “Can you cook?”
It occurs to me that in the nine months we were seeing each other, I never got a chance to cook for her since we never went back to my place; the only time we ate together was if we snuck out to a restaurant or grabbed something in a drive-through.
Mia approaches and then hauls herself up onto the countertop to sit beside me; this already feels different from how we were together in Dallas.
Better different.
Flipping the grilled cheese, I look over at her, unable to stop my eyes from trailing down her body. “Well, I wouldn’t describe this as gourmet food, but, yeah, I know my way around a kitchen.”
I pass her a glass of water, and she takes a sip.
“Who taught you?”
I run a rough hand through my messy hair, which definitely needs a cut. “Myself.” I want to offer her more, but that’s the God’s honest truth. This isn’t some cute story about how my mom taught me to peel potatoes and prepare a Thanksgiving meal when I was ten.
I watch the way heat warms her cheeks, almost like she’s working that out for herself. Years back, when Mia once asked about my parents, I told her their names were Wayne and Alice but left it at that. She now knows my dad is a straight-up asshole, but describing my relationship with Mom is going to be tougher and something I don’t know I’ll ever be able to explain. She isn’t a bad person, and I love her with everything I have, but she has made bad choices that have torn me apart.
The team psych, Ashley, along with countless other professionals, have tried—and failed—to talk to me about her. I guess I just refuse to throw her under the metaphorical bus. At one time, I was angry for the way she seemed to accept Dad’s behavior, but now, all I feel is sadness and desperation on her behalf. Hoping that one day, she will accept one of the many opportunities I give her to escape his clutches.
Mia clears her throat and takes another sip of water. “That’s impressive—teaching yourself, I mean.”
The need to share everything with her pools in my gut, screaming at me to follow my instincts and trust her with my secrets.
I flick off the burner and come to stand between her legs, resting my palms on either side of her. I’m still shirtless, but changed into black athletic shorts. I can’t remember the last time I was so fucking turned on that I blew into my own pants. I should feel even a hint of humiliation at my dick’s lack of control. But I’m not. Going down on Mia, being the first guy to do that or even give her an orgasm, is way too fucking amazing to worry about my inability to hold it together.
She’s still a virgin .
I had every intention of being inside her all night tonight, despite the pain my body is in. But the second she told me, I knew her first time had to be something special.
Did she hold out for me? Warmth spreads across my chest at the thought.
I bite on my bottom lip as I take her in. She’s dressed again, back in the clothes she arrived in.
“You haven’t tried my cooking yet, so maybe reserve judgment on how impressive it is until you have.” Offering her a cheeky smile, I rub my hands up and down her thighs, feeling her jeans are still damp, although that’s not the real reason why I want her out of them. “You got dressed.”
She shrugs, the redness staining her cheeks getting deeper. It’s so fucking cute to watch my sassy girl show her shy side. “These are all I have with me.”
Leaning in and brushing my lips against hers, I shake my head softly. “Incorrect, Sweetheart. You have my entire wardrobe at your disposal.”
She giggles and then kisses me back. “Your stuff would drown my five-feet-four ass.”
The urge to gather her up and march us back into my room for round two overwhelms me, but I hold off, remembering we have food to eat. As I wind her long, dark hair around my fist, I feel the way my dick grows at the thought of doing exactly this while I slide inside her from behind.
Soon.
“That’s the idea. Utopia would be you waltzing around my place, wearing nothing but my name.”
I watch the way her throat works as she digests my fantasy. And I have fantasized about Mia in my jersey way more than I ever had the right to do after I walked out of her dad’s house and ignored her messages like a goddamn coward.
When I release her hair, my hands wrap around her gorgeous, round ass, and I pull her into me, noting she’s at the perfect fucking height.
“We need to eat this food.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “But I want you to know, I’m sorry for running away from us. I let you down. I had known the risk of getting caught when we started seeing each other. I need to be honest and tell you that I never expected you to be my forever girl—because girls like you don’t happen to boys like me.”
When she opens her mouth to speak, I know she’s going to protest and tell me that’s not true, but I stop her with a finger to her soft lips.
“The happiness you brought me back then felt too good to be true, so I lived in the warmth of your addictive sunshine for as long as I could. All cards on the table—it still kind of does feel surreal, having you here. But you didn’t rule me out, even if your dad did. You’ve given me a second chance, and I want to be a man you can call yours and be fucking proud of it. Even if it takes time to separate my past from the present, I’ll do it for you, for us. So, while I work on fixing myself and believing I’m lucky enough to have you in my life again, I want you to work on trusting that this time, I’m in it for the long haul. Your dad might want to murder me, but no matter what he does, I’m not going anywhere, Sweetheart.”
Mia’s eyes turn glassy as she looks at me, but doesn’t say anything.
When I pull her into my chest, she releases a silent sob against me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry, Mia.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “No, these are happy tears.” Pulling away from me, she wipes under her eyes. “Just … why now? I came here, expecting to deliver some flowers to a guy who didn’t really want to talk to me, and now, all this.”
I cock my head to the side and study her. “I really did a shit job of showing you how I felt back then, didn’t I?”
She blows out another sob.
“I fell for you years ago, Mia. Do you know how unnatural it’s been for me to hold back from you? Then you walk into my apartment and do something no one has ever done.”
“What’s that?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I force back tears. “You saw me, my scars, my bruises. You didn’t freak out or want to run away, just like you’ve never judged me for drinking to numb my pain. That night, back in the dorm, when I told you why I turned to alcohol, there was nothing but understanding in your beautiful eyes. It might take me a while to get there, but I know you’re the only one I want to show myself to. And when you find someone like that, you never let them go.”
Mia presses a kiss against my lips. I’m almost sure the food is cold by now. Not that I give a fuck.
“But you don’t want me to be a part of your whole life, the part back in Dallas.”
“Mia, my dad is an abuser and a really bad man. In a different state is the closest he will ever get to you—I’ll make sure of it. But the demons from my childhood live on inside me—I know they do. Keeping myself straight and not drinking is the only doubt I have about us because if I head down a pathway similar to my mom, I’ll break your heart, even if I never mean to. That’s what I’m protecting you from. I’ll show you my bruises, and I’ll answer the questions you have, I promise. But that doesn’t mean I have all the answers to everything.”
I point at myself and look at her. “There’s only one circumstance where I’ll walk away from you: if I’m going down, there’s no way I’m dragging you with me.”
MIA
Wearing an oversized T-shirt and with a cold grilled cheese in hand, I crawl into Jessie’s bed.
I’m still trying to process everything he said to me in the kitchen, but right now, the high I’m riding on is blocking out my ability to form coherent thoughts.
Does Jessie Callaghan love me? Has he always loved me?
He didn’t say the words, but I know he wants me, and I have to give us a shot. My euphoria is so intense that even my nineteen-year-old self is kicking her giddy feet, pushing back memories of heartbreak.
He climbs in beside me and takes my plate while I make myself comfortable under his arm. “Comfy now?”
I wriggle a bit more for effect and take the plate back, instantly taking a bite out of the grilled cheese. My mouth waters. This is seriously good. “Even cold, this is the best I’ve had.”
Jessie flicks on the TV mounted on the wall in front of his bed and begins scrolling through options.
“Your choice tonight,” I say, taking another huge bite of the grilled cheese.
Selecting one of my all-time favorite shows, Dexter , he settles back behind me and starts eating his food too.
“I’m sorry if I get crumbs in your bed.” I wince, brushing off a few that already stand out against the dark gray comforter he has.
Jessie shrugs. “It’s fine. I can change the sheets tomorrow.”
“You don’t have a housekeeper to do that?”
“Nope.” He takes my empty plate and sets it on the floor with his. Adjusting himself to look at me, he bites down on his lip, almost like he’s working himself up to say something. “I don’t own this apartment. The team paid for it as part of the contract I signed. Even though I was forced out of Dallas, the Scorpions wanted me bad, so my agent negotiated in a housing arrangement for however long I’m on the team. I earn well, yeah, but I get taxed a huge amount, which swallows a large chunk of my take-home pay.”
“So, your wages are only in the lower hundreds of thousands per month,” I jibe. “I know how much you were earning in your first year at the Destroyers, baby.” I pat his cheek mockingly. “You must be rolling in it now.”
Jessie kicks his feet out in front of him. “I send a ton home every week.”
“To your parents?”
He nods slowly. “I know it ends up in casinos, liquor stores, and the pockets of hookers since my dad can’t keep it in his pants. But I can’t leave my mom without food. Every last cent I send, my dad steals, even from the bank account I set up for her a while back. So, I send more. I know it’s not a solution, but the guilt of not helping her when I earn big eats away at me.”
“H-how much do you send, Jessie?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and whispers, “It’s been twenty thousand a week for the past six months.”
“Nearly half a million dollars?!” I burst out. “They’ve screwed you for all that money!”
“At least.”
My heart cracks. “Jessie, that’s so much money. Money for your future. Your career won’t last forever. God forbid, but it could end tomorrow.”
“I know. That’s not where it stops though. I have fines coming out of my ass for showing up late to practices and games. I pay my agent and PR team way more than their average clients since they’re constantly putting out fires my dad starts. He might hate me, but he doesn’t hide the fact that I’m his son. Neither does he hide what he gets up to in public.” He blows out a defeated breath. “You remember my black Mustang?”
I think back to the secret kisses we shared in it. “Yeah.”
“He totaled it a couple of months back. When I’d left for Seattle, I’d said he could use it. But he never got it insured. He got pissed one night at a bar and drove it straight into a store window. I paid for the damages and to keep the news about who had done it buried. Just lucky it was the middle of the night and the store was closed. And the fact that he didn’t kill anyone.”
Nausea swirls around in my stomach as my mom flashes in front of me.
Jessie turns to me, his hand coming to the side of my face. “Shit, Mia. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about your mom.” He scrubs at his face with his other hand. “See what I mean? He’s already hurting you. I’m already hurting you.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, picking up the remote to silence the TV. “The only time you hurt me is when you shut me out.” I climb over him until I’m straddling his hips, and I feel the way he responds immediately.
He looks deep into my eyes, hands falling to my sides as he pins me to him. “What do you want, Mia?”
I bite my lip nervously. “I want to taste you. Give you what you gave to me earlier.”
“Mia, you don’t have?—”
I stop him with a finger to his lips. “I know, but I want to.”
My heart races as I lift off him and pull back the comforter, staring down at his cock, which is obviously huge, even beneath his athletic shorts.
I pull at his waistband, and Jessie raises his hips, making it easier for me to remove his shorts.
I expect him to be wearing boxers, so when his cock bobs up and rests just below his navel, I gasp at the shock.
Jessie chuckles, running a hand through my hair until it rests at the nape of my neck. He pulls me into him. “Have you done this before?”
When I told Jessie that I’d messed around with guys in the past, this is what I meant. In my heartbreak, I had gone out with a couple of girlfriends from back home. They convinced me the best way to get over whoever it was that had broken my heart—since I wouldn’t tell them—was to get under someone else.
Big mistake.
The guy I met at the bar told me we’d only make out in his car. We didn’t. He didn’t force himself on me, but he did make it pretty clear that the goalposts had changed when he unzipped his pants.
I could’ve gotten out of the car and gone back into the bar. But I wanted to prove to myself that I was over Jessie.
I had tears in my eyes the entire time, and I hated it. So, I vowed never to touch anyone else again. A stupid and unrealistic promise—I knew that. But unless it was Jessie I was touching, I just wasn’t interested.
Wrapping my hand around his shaft, I pump him once, and he groans in pleasure. The sound shoots straight through me, pooling between my legs. I look at him; he asked the question, and I don’t want to lie.
“Once.”
A crease forms between his eyebrows, almost like he’s regretting asking me. “Did you like it?”
I shake my head. “No. Because he wasn’t you.”
His dick leaks in my hand as it grows even bigger. I’m nervous. I can’t pretend that my inexperience doesn’t affect my confidence, but I’m determined to make this the best blow job he’s ever had.
I take him into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the tip, and he groans way louder than the last time, his fingers twisting in my hair.
His response spurs me on and fills my chest with warmth, letting me know I’m making it good for him.
He’s huge—so much bigger than the guy from the bar, but going down on Jessie is also so much easier.
Because it’s what I want. He’s what I want.
Cautiously, I take him all the way to the back of my throat and gag as his hips shoot off the bed.
“Oh Jesus, fuck, Mia,” he cries out.
His pleasure only urges me on. I want to pull my panties to the side and sit on him, taking his huge dick all the way inside me.
But more than that, I want him to finish in my mouth.
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last another ten seconds with the way you’re sucking me so good.”
I release him with a pop, my confidence only growing with every moan that tumbles from his lips. “I’ve always wanted to know what you look like when you come.”
My mouth finds his dick again, and without having any idea if it’s good for a guy, I start to pump him as my hand and mouth work together in synchronization. He swells in my palm, and I flick my eyes up to where Jessie braces his arms behind his head, clenching his jaw.
When he releases into my mouth, I don’t feel the disgusting urge to spit him out, like I did with the guy at the bar. I swallow every last drop of him, savoring the way he tastes.
With his jaw now slack, he watches the way I take him further down my throat, and when he shudders, I lick the tip of his dick, proud of the way I just made him feel.
I barely have time to register what I just did when he loops his arm around my waist, flipping me onto my back as he hovers above me.
“Did that not hurt you?” I say, my eyes on his bruises.
Kissing me passionately, he breaks for a second. “Like I said before, Mia, I’m used to these bruises. There’s also no better pain relief than feeling your body in my hands. And right now, I’m on top of the fucking world.”