Chapter 15
15
BEATRICE
My legs are shaking as I walk through Dee’s hallway and into her living room, intensely aware of Jonah following me.
It’s so good to see him. I can hardly believe he’s here.
I wish I wasn’t in such a state though. I barely slept all night and I was so exhausted and miserable this morning, I ended up bawling for twenty solid minutes in the shower.
My face is now a puffball and my eyes look hollow.
In short, I’m a mess.
‘Have you changed your mind about Dee losing her job?’ I ask hopefully.
He gives me such a look of angry incredulity, I flinch. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
‘So you’re still angry with me?’
He stares at me for a moment and I swallow uncomfortably in the pause.
‘I trusted you with all my shit and the whole time, you were bare-faced lying to me. So yes, I’m still fucking angry with you.’
I hold up both hands in a gesture of acceptance. ‘I shouldn’t have lied to you. It was wrong of me to do that. I got so carried away with pretending to be Dee, I lost my head. Not that that’s an excuse.’
‘No, it’s not.’
I fold my arms defensively. ‘You have every right to be angry. But I promise you, I genuinely meant no harm. I was trying to help.’ I inwardly cringe at the pleading in my voice.
His snort is full of disdain. ‘Help me with what, exactly? Making me look even more of an idiot? Or did you just fancy stepping into Tessa’s vacant place for a bit? See what it was like dating the son of a rock star?’
‘That was never my intention. I’m not interested in your dad’s fame. Things just… got away from me.’
‘Things?’
‘How I started to feel about you.’
A frown flickers across his face and he turns away and walks over to the window, his broad back towards me. I can see the tension in his shoulders and my heart turns over.
I can’t stand him being so cold with me like this. Not after the closeness we’ve developed recently. Finally getting him to smile had felt like a massive achievement. I want to see that smile again. Desperately.
‘I don’t think what I did is on a par with how Tessa treated you.’
He just snorts, still refusing to look at me.
A thread of frustration begins to unravel in my chest. This whole situation is so unfair. I was just trying to help. ‘You know what? I think you’re using this as an excuse to get out all your residual anger about Tessa and the way she treated you. To find an outlet for the rejection and loss of control you felt. You’re still hurting from that, which is totally understandable, but you’re taking it out on me and that’s not fair.’
He spins around, his face a mask of anger. ‘Don’t try to psychoanalyse me,’ he spits out.
‘I’m not. I’m just pointing out the obvious,’ I say, determined not to back down. I’m desperate to find a way back to how things were with us and it seems to me the only way to do that is to tackle our issues head on.
He stares up at the ceiling, shaking his head.
I take a tentative step towards him, my hands out in supplication.
‘Yes, I messed up, I admit that, but I’m not Tessa. I didn’t cheat on you and I didn’t walk away from you. In fact, I really wanted to stay, more than anything. I didn’t want Dee to come back to her job. I wanted to do it. I still want to do it.’
He looks at me now and I see a flash of something, a break in the fury.
I take another step towards him. We’re only a couple of feet apart now. I feel the air between us vibrate with an unspoken passion.
I have to be brave and tell him exactly how I’m feeling or I suspect he’s going to walk out of here and I’ll never see him again.
‘But mostly,’ I say, ‘I want to be with you. Because I really care about you. In fact… I’ve… I think… I think we’d be good together. Be good for each other.’
He shakes his head again, his eyes hard. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘What? What don’t you know?’
‘That we’d be good for each other.’
‘Why not? Why wouldn’t we be?’
‘I’m too broken to have a relationship right now.’
I force back a sob of frustration. ‘You’re not!’
Again, he shakes his head at me. ‘You’re right. I am still angry with Tessa. I need to work my way past it before I can trust someone again.’
‘Okay. I understand. Well, I can wait for you. I will wait. For as long as it takes.’
‘Don’t bother. We can’t ever work now because I’ll never be able to trust you again.’
He starts to move towards the door and I run in front of him, blocking his way.
‘That’s not true! Please don’t go. Please. We can’t leave it like this.’
I reach out and curl my fingers around his tensed forearm in a desperate attempt to stop him from walking around me and out of my life.
And I can’t bear the thought of that.
I’m expecting him to shrug my hand off, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands there, rooted to the spot, not looking at me, his whole upper torso radiating tension. I can feel the effort he’s expending to keep himself emotionally distant from me pouring off him.
Sensing I have a slim window here to persuade him to stay and talk to me some more, I side-step around in front of him till we’re face to face again. He’s refusing to look at me though.
‘Please give me another chance. I swear I’ll never lie to you again.’
I see his throat move as he swallows.
I have an intense urge to kiss him, to show him just how much he means to me. I want to give myself to him fully, make myself so vulnerable, he can see a way to trust me again.
Leaning in closer to him, I catch his scent in the air – spicy and masculine – and I breathe it in deeply.
My head throbs.
I want him so badly, my entire body is aching with need.
‘Jonah. Please? We can’t leave it like this.’
I can see from the frown on his face that he’s battling with himself. I think he’s feeling the same need I am, but he’s not allowing himself to break.
So, I’m going to have to break his will for him.
Putting my hands on each side of his face, I draw him to me, leaning in closer until our lips are almost touching. I feel him resist for a second and I’m about to back away again, not wanting to force him to do anything he really doesn’t want to do, when he lets out a low, frustrated-sounding moan from the depths of his throat and closes the small space between us, crushing his mouth against mine.
My heart leaps and I kiss him back hard, loving the feel of his skin beneath my hands, his breath mingling with mine, his tongue as it slides into my mouth in such a possessive way, it makes me gasp.
Oh God.
I press my body hard up against his and delight in the feel of his erection pushing against me.
He wants me as much as I want him.
I’m jubilant.
Despite his anger with me, there’s still a part of him that needs this closeness and connection too.
I sink into it, my body responding instinctively to his. My skin is rushing with heat and a fizzing sort of excitement. Something I’ve never experienced before. Being physically close to Jonah is on a whole other level compared to the way it’s been with anyone else.
His hands move down my body and scoop under my bum and before I know it, he’s lifting me up against him.
I wrap my legs around his middle to support me and he spins us around and takes a couple of steps till he has me pressed up against the wall.
He grinds into me, his body pressing hard against mine and kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear at any moment and this is his last chance to get what he wants.
I welcome it.
This is what I want. What I’ve wanted since the moment I saw him.
‘Fuck! What are you doing to me?’ he mutters against my mouth.
‘I’m showing you how much I want you,’ I murmur back.
He fists his hand into my hair and holds my head still while he kisses me thoroughly, his tongue sliding deep into my mouth. It’s as if he’s finally releasing all the tension he’s been holding onto through this kiss. There’s frustration and anger and need in it, as well as pleasure.
I feel exactly the same. Holding myself back from allowing this to happen has been monumentally hard.
I wriggle and push myself against the bulge at the front of his jeans, wanting, needing to get closer.
He groans at the added friction and steps back, releasing me from where he has me pressed against the wall and turns around so he can walk us over to the bed.
When we get there, he drops me onto my back and I keep my legs wrapped around him while he shuffles us up the mattress until my head hits the pillows. He then proceeds to roughly remove every piece of clothing from my body with a frown of concentration on his beautiful face. Then strips his own clothes off too, flinging them away from him as if they offend him.
‘Condoms… in the drawer,’ I say, pointing to the bedside table.
Without a word, he leans over and yanks the drawer open, locating a strip of them and tearing one off, then unwrapping it with swift fingers and sheathing himself.
I watch the focused concentration on his face as he does all this, till he looks back at me and our gazes lock. He’s still frowning, but there’s an intensity in his eyes that’s giving me excited chills.
I’m expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he slides his fingers between my legs and when he finds how ready I am for him, he kisses me hard on the mouth, then lines up our bodies and slides his cock inside me, inch by delicious inch. Breaking the kiss, he looks into my eyes as he pushes fully into me, his gaze never wavering from mine. After an excruciating few moments of anticipation, he finally draws back and starts to thrust. It’s fast and furious sex and it feels like we’re locked together in a sort of fight for supremacy.
I give back as good as I’m getting.
We grunt and moan and gasp in wild abandon, our bodies slapping together hard. It’s carnal and animalistic and real. So real.
I’ve never been so turned on.
Feeling a need to take more control, I rock us to the side and he allows me to roll on top of him, our bodies miraculously staying locked together. I ride him hard, rubbing my clit against his pubic bone and I wrap my fingers around the tops of his arms and hold on as I feel myself begin to come.
It’s powerful. So powerful, I lose myself in the sheer pulsing joy of it.
This – this is what I’ve wanted all along.
To feel this way.
I hear Jonah’s own moans of pleasure start to build beneath me and I keep riding him, taking delight in the lingering waves of my orgasm as he comes too, his fingers digging into my hips.
I collapse on top of him, my head next to his on the pillow, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath mine, our bodies hot and our skin slick.
‘That’s what we both needed, right? Closure,’ he whispers into my ear, his breath coming in short, hard pants. ‘A full stop to the whole damn circus.’
Sitting up, I frown down at him, my brain slow to catch up with what he just said.
When it finally does, I suck in a sharp breath, aware of a hot dread washing over my whole body.
Before I can reply, he grips my hips and lifts me off him, depositing me on the bed next to him, then rolls away and gets up, leaving me staring after him in shock.
What just happened?
‘No. That’s not what I need at all,’ I say, sitting up. ‘I want – you . I want a relationship with you.’
He’s searching around for his clothes now and after locating them all, pulls on his boxers, then his jeans. ‘Not going to happen. We’re done now,’ he says as he does up the buttons, not making eye contact with me. ‘I’m not ready to have another relationship, especially since I only seem to be attracted to women who end up fucking me over and I really don’t want that for myself.’
‘I won’t fuck you over,’ I say, hating the shake in my voice.
‘Too late. You already have.’
‘Please don’t be like that.’
He doesn’t respond, just pulls his t-shirt over his head.
I’ve lost him and I feel desperate about it.
‘I love you,’ I blurt, then wince at how pathetic and needy that sounds.
‘Sure you do, Bea.’ He finally turns to look at me for one long moment, tears glinting in his eyes. Then he shakes his head. ‘Bye.’
Without another word, he strides out of the room, banging the door closed behind him.
I just sit there, staring after him, then wince as I hear the outer door bang as well as he leaves the house.
So that’s it then. He’s gone. Probably out of my life for ever.
Getting off the bed on shaky legs, I gather up my clothes and pull them on, forcing back the tears that are threatening to break at any second.
I’m feeling everything right now, but mostly anger at myself.
What the hell did I think would happen? That we’d have sex and it would magically make everything okay? Did I really stoop so low as to try and seduce him into forgiving me? What a bloody fool I am.
But I was desperate. I didn’t know what else to do to get through to him.
Having sex wasn’t it though.
Idiot!
Now I know how amazing it can be with him, I’m never going to be able to forget it. Or experience the joy of it with him again, judging by his reaction to me afterwards.
I want to cry. But I’m not going to. I have to move forwards, one step at a time and look to the day when I don’t feel this way any more.
If only I could say I wish I’d never met Jonah Jacobson, but that would just be another lie.