6. Julie
6
T his is a fucking shitshow.
I cup the stream of water, then bring a gulp of it to my lips. Anything to get rid of the sour taste in my mouth. The cold liquid soothes just for a second, before the rawness in my throat returns and my lashes fall to my cheeks.
Fuck, someone teleport me to the other side of the world.
Obviously, I hate having Jacob standing next to me like he belongs there, but him throwing out a sexual innuendo like that? I want to throw up. The last time I slept with him was almost a year ago, and it still haunts me to this day.
There is no way in hell I will ever let him touch my body like that again.
It’s worse enough that I have to pretend to actually like the motherfucker since throwing a scene at a business event will probably not work in my favor, but now he’s using me as his secret weapon to piss off his brothers.
Oh, how I fell for the wrong brother all those years ago.
I mean, yeah, I was stupid and young. But for me to be this blind for years? Jason might be mad at me for dating his brother, but it’s nothing compared to the level of rage I have for myself. The way I kept my eyes shut every time Jason begged me to see the truth, but I was dead set on focusing on all the things Jacob did right, instead of everything he did wrong.
There’s so much regret building inside of me, constantly weighing down my back like a pack full of cobblestones, and I have no clue how to get rid of it. How do I fix this?
And Jason bringing Mia?! What the fuck is up with that?
My stomach tumbles like a washing machine. Fuck, are they together?
The door to the bathroom is yanked open, rudely snapping me out of my head, along with my heart bouncing to the back of my throat and my lashes flying to my hairline.
Not again.
Jason’s glare is more intense than I’ve ever seen it, his eyes heated like molten lava as if he’s ready to kill someone by spitting fire.
My legs wobble, my eyelids bouncing up and down as our gazes are pulled at each other like magnets as I stare at him in the mirror. The dimmed lights make him look that much more intimidating, as the bright light of the hall illuminate his silhouette, yet only darken his features.
Contempt wrinkles around his lips, and his bright blue eyes find mine with ice. For a moment, my heart hitches, wondering if he’s just as dangerous as his older brother, but when I look closer, longer , I know Jason’s anger is fueled by the hurt and frustration he feels when he looks at me.
This is Jason , Julie . You’ll be okay.
If only I could turn back time and tell him everything I didn’t get a chance to.
“How the fuck can you be with him?” His voice is gravelly, inked with incredulity, as he slowly but surely puts his feet in motion, his raging energy filling every square foot in this small bathroom.
I breathe in all the oxygen that can fit into my lungs, then wipe my hands onto one of the towels beside the sink, throw it into the hamper in the corner, and swing around to face him.
“It’s complicated.” Think a Rubix cube with more colors than sides.
He stops until he’s right into my space, our chests only an inch apart, and our hearts almost connecting except for our rib cages keeping them separated. Tension builds between us, the outside world disappearing from my senses.
“He’s talking about you like you’re a fucking whore!” he snarls, crazed and wide-eyed. “Is that what you are, Julie? His fucking little whore?”
My rational mind knows he’s repeating Jacob’s words, but hearing them roll off his lips, aimed at me the way they are, is like a machete cutting deep and thoroughly into my chest.
With itching fingers, I force myself to hold his gaze, when really, I want to slap the filth out of his mouth.
I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of losing it, though. The way I see it? The more normal I act, the less affected I seem, the crazier he looks. And if I know Jason, he’ll regret every nasty thing he’s spitting at me the moment his head hits his pillow tonight.
There is no way in hell I’m going to give him any more reason to hate me than he already does. I’m going to be the perfect opponent. The one who will provide him no other option than to realize how much he’s acting like a maniac when I’m being polite and civil any time I can.
I cross my arms over my chest, chin high. “This is the ladies’ room. It’s becoming a habit, Jason.”
Silence .
He just keeps drilling his glare through my features, examining every inch with deep breaths releasing from his nose as if he’s mentally digging for answers. But he slips up when his gaze lowers to my lips in a teeny second, and the intensity in his eyes changes. It’s no longer built out of solid rage, it’s now mixed with a lust that shudders my spine.
Oh, boy. I remember that look all too well.
If I close my eyes, I can still taste the champagne on my lips from that night. I can still feel the strokes of his tongue against mine. I bite my lip to stop the growing tingling in my lower abdomen, then roll them together with a quasi-casual expression.
“Okay, well, you’re obviously here with a reason, Jason. Please, enlighten me.”
But his raging gaze keeps penetrating me without words.
More silence, what a surprise.
“Ignoring me. Classy. And here I thought you were more mature than that.”
I twist to give him my back and stand my ground a little easier, but he catches my upper arm, holding me firmly in place. His palm sears through my skin, and my lips part at the current that ripples through my senses because of it.
“You want mature?” he grits out, dipping his chin to bore our gazes together like magnets.
Fresh, fruity hints of lemon enter my nostrils, combined with a whiff of sandalwood. A cologne that’s the epitome of safety for me, though today it’s a sheer contrast with the feral expression it’s accompanied with.
“I’ll settle for civil.”
He chuckles, but there’s no humor to be found. “How can I be civil when all I wanna do is punish you?”
I swallow dryly, my mouth suddenly parched. My clit throbs when I detect the desire staring back at me.
“Are you jealous?” I want him to be.
And I want him to punish me. I want him to pull my hair and tell me what a bad girl I’ve been. I don’t care what he does to me, as long as he doesn’t ignore me. Being ignored by this man is worse than his wrath, even if his wrath is taking years off my life every time it’s aimed in my direction.
“Are you trying to make me jealous?”
“Why would I do that?”
“To piss me off. We both know you’re good at it.” My heart gallops, flying away like a mustang triggered by fight-or-flight.
See, this is where he’s wrong. I never meant to make him jealous. I never meant to piss him off. And I sure as hell never meant to hurt him. But I did. Not because I was selfish, not because I was angry, and not even because I thought it felt safe.
Because of a stupid twist of fate.
The moment Jason and I crossed that line we could never come back from, I felt what was holding me back dissolve, evaporating into thin air. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel everything I felt for him before that— I did .
But my insecurity never let me go there. It never let me take that plunge and confess how I felt, because I was scared he didn’t feel the same. I was scared it would ruin what I had with him, and I wanted him more than anything.
Even if it was just a little bit.
Until that night.
By then, it was too late.
Now I have to defend myself against the man who has my heart but doesn’t want it, praying one day he will give it back in peace. While protecting myself from Jacob, determined to destroy everything I’ve been working for.
“Tell me what you really think of me, Jason. We both know you’ve been dying to.”
His mouth inches closer, teasing the proximity of my lips, the move slowly sipping the air from my chest. Painful and tempting.
“You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do.”
My neck inches up, my nose tempted to run it along his jaw, breathing in the mix of his fresh cologne and his skin. Chest fluttering, a throbbing between my legs shoots all my senses alive and into hyperalert. Unable to resist any longer, my eyes flick to his pursed lips, still seated in a glare.
Fuck, I want to erase it with my lips glued to his.
“Then tell me,” I dare, thrusting my hips a little forward until the tips of his fingers touch my hips, and the rest of his hands follow as they glide over my curves, just the way I like. My skin tingles at the weight of his palm onto my body, my desire turning my fresh panties into a soaking mess.
“You’re walking a dangerous line, Jules,” he breathes.
I can see it.
He’s pushing the gate open that he so desperately wants to keep closed.
“Nothing I haven’t walked before.” His touch extends to my legs, gracing the skin underneath the hem of my golden dress. Scorching, teasing, and expanding my tension in my core with a deliciousness that’s indescribable.
Suddenly, I realize how much I’ve longed for his touch. How much I’ve missed him, and how much I want to feel him close to me. The admission is stealing my breath away like a pickpocket, unaware you’re being robbed of your possessions. But it’s his gaze that keeps me from completely flying off to an energy field that has me at his mercy.
His eyes soften a little, but not enough to forget how angry he is, and then I see the wicked sparkle in his eyes.
Lord, have mercy on my soul.
He’s not just teasing.
My pulse thumps in my flushed neck, my eyes growing wider, as his finger inches to my core with a tender yet determined touch. With my skin tingling, each hair lifts as if a magnet is pulling them to the sky, and involuntarily, my lashes fall to my cheeks and my lips part.
Fuck.
“What are you doing, Jay?” I intended it to be reprimanding, but the sensation of his heated fingers trailing the crook between my thigh and my pussy barely gets the words over my tongue, let alone with a little venom.
Shit, that feels good. Too good.
“Making your skin crawl,” he breathes against the shell of my ear, jolting alive every brittle hair on my body that wasn’t already. “Burn my touch into your body, making sure you’ll still feel me when you’re lying alone in your bed tonight.”
“Who says I’ll be alone?”
“My wet hand in your panties.” He bites my neck, and I yelp. “Is this mature enough? Am I being civil enough to your liking, Jules?”
He circles my entrance, then a groan vibrates from his chest when he’s inside of me and finds my wetness coating his finger. His thumb grazes my clit, teasing the little bitch by dancing around her but never really touching her. My nerves are forming a little bundle of joy between my legs while my actual feet barely hold me up. I flatten my palms on the sink, keeping me steady as Jason creates magic within my body.
“If this is your way of punishing me, you’re doing a shit job.”
I can sense his smile against my neck, followed by a long lick from the base until he reaches my ear, making me shiver against his firm torso.
With his free hand, he holds me in place, the other never missing a beat.
“Don’t underestimate me, Jules. Torture comes in many forms.”
My name sounds like a plea, breaking away my walls and building up my confidence. I’ve missed feeling him close.
I throw my arm around his neck for support, then cup the other around his cock. It’s hard, pressing deeply against the thick fabric of his black pants.
“Feels like the only one you’re torturing is yourself. Do you want me to take care of that?”
I rub my palm over it, and he retaliates by biting my shoulder, his teeth sinking into my flesh deep enough to make me hiss. “Oh, fuck.”
“Keep your hands up, Julie.” I obey his rough command, linking my hands behind his neck, letting myself relax to his touch. My pussy flutters with each swirl around my sensitive nub, pulsing the muscles in my hips to a blissful state.
Every sense of my body is remembering the last time he touched me like this, as if suddenly it’s reminding me how to live. How to relish the pleasure of his touch. Each rub gets me higher up that mountain, evaporating the oxygen from my lungs second by second.
“Do you feel that, baby? What level of maturity I am capable of? How civil my fingers feel against your clit?”
Panting, I hum, resting my forehead on his shoulder, no longer able to form words. Warmth spreads through my body, electricity coursing through my veins.
“That’s it. You’re coming. I can feel it. Because I know you.” Fuck him .
“Your breath changes.” I can’t breathe.
“Your body trembles.” My legs wobble.
“Heat rises to your cheeks.” I’m feverish.
“Your eyes flutter.” They shut when my quads tense.
“Are you coming for me like a good girl, Jules? Tell me. Use your words. ” His sultry voice pushes my release harder and faster, the euphoric sensation whirling into bigger proportions by the second.
“Yes, I’m coming,” I admit breathily.
Unexpected, taking no prisoners on his way through my body.
I’m so close. So damn fucking close.
“I want you to feel how I felt, baby. I want you to feel like you’re almost there, claiming the one thing you’ve been craving more than anything.”
I am, I’m almost there.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please don’t stop.”
My mouth opens wide in a desperate attempt to suck in some air, as all the muscles tense around my pussy, ready to fall over the edge into ecstasy at the rhythm of his touch but then… it all stops.
His hand disappears from my center, and I blink, my mind in a haze at the sudden loss of touch. Panting, I peer up at his blue eyes looking as daunting as the deep blue shades of the Caribbean Sea. My ears burn like they are about to fall off, my brain trying to make sense of the confusion while still working in overdrive. There’s a sadistic glint flickering through his gaze, not helping with my puzzled expression.
What the hell?
He leans in, and automatically, I close my eyes, sucking in his fresh scent while his mouth falls flush with my temple.
“And then watch it slip out of your hands.” There’s a diabolical tone in his voice that I’ve never heard before, and my eyes grow big as he steps back with a wolfish grin.
The blood drains from my face, though they are still heated by my pussy that’s waiting for the grand finale.
He’s joking, right?
But with each step he takes back, keeping his smug expression unwavering, I know he’s not.
I haven’t seen him more serious in his life, and he’s a fucking serious guy most of the time. The one who’s got his ducks in a row, quacking only when he has something useful to say and keeping his mouth shut if his opinion isn’t asked for. He’s the sensible one, but there ain’t nothing sensible about that shit-eating grin on his face.
“What the fuck?” I hiss.
He flips his wrist, glancing at his watch, then winks. “Oh, damn. Look at the time. My date is waiting. You and Jacob deserve each other, you little cheat.”
What? No .
Fuck.
Cheat?! Shit.
My head staggers. “I’m not–”
“What, Jules? A cheater like he is? Or with him in the first place?”
Oh, you stupid, stupid girl.
His eyes gleam with pride, as if he just claimed victory. He played me, and he knows it.
Jason fucking Spencer played me, and I showed all my cards. He knows I’m full of shit, and I bet now he’s going all feral on this entire thing. Like a pitbull he’s going to bite and bark until he gets to the bottom of this.
Completely and utterly speechless, I stand there. My gaze trails every backward step he takes toward the door, not waiting for a reply, before he disappears through it with a wink, my pussy still throbbing.
“FUCK!”
He talked about tormenting me. About making my life a living hell, but being used to the nasty streaks of his brother, I never took his threats seriously. I expected some discomfort and a lot of frustration. He’s taking this shit to a whole other level.
“Bastard!” I find my reflection in the mirror, my gaze furious.
I let him get this close. I underestimated him because he’s Jason. He’s my friend. Or he was. Goddamnit. Everything has fucking changed.
I take a towel from the dish next to the sink, then hold it underneath the faucet before turning it on. The cold water flows over my wrists, cooling my boiling veins a little before I hold the damp cloth against my neck.
I can’t believe he just fucking did that.
I wet my cheeks next, trying to get rid of some of the flushed skin that will betray me the second I walk out there, then grab another towel to dry my face.
I need to fucking get out of here, find the comfort of my apartment with a sweater and a cup of tea before turning on a rom-com to forget this night ever happened.
Or open a bottle of wine for myself.
Not sure which one it will be, but regardless, it’s time to fucking go.
I spin on my heels, then pull up an imaginary mask of indifference with my chin held high as I prance to the door.
All I have to do is make it from the bathroom to the grand entrance, grab the nearest cab, and be on my way. I can do that. The night can’t get any worse than this anyway.
But I’m never that fucking lucky.
Because the second I open the door, I’m roughly pulled to the side and slammed against a hard chest. My heart jumps, and my pussy springs alive, both traitorous bitches praying it’s Jason who came back to finish the job.
Except when I look up, it’s not the pair of blue eyes I’m looking for.