40 – Feminism Has Left The Building
Casey
“I really don’t want to be here tonight. Can’t we just spend it at home with movies and wine? That sounds like a much better birthday,” I complain to the girls as we wait to have our coats checked. It is literally snowing, days out from Christmas, and they’ve put me in this tiny blue dress. It has a modest neckline, but the back of it doesn’t exist, and like it wasn’t already short enough, one of the legs has a slit in it. The heels Rosie bought for me are a gorgeous pearly white. They shimmer like they have sparkles sprayed on them, with two giant tulle bows on the back. Really, my outfit just screams, ‘I’m the birthday girl’, without me even trying. I felt sexy leaving the apartment. Sad, but sexy.
Now I’m sad and cold. Freezing, in fact.
“You’ll be warmer with a few drinks and a pit stop on the dance floor,” Rosie assures me. She and Addison agreed to dress up similarly, While not as sparkly, they were still in tiny dresses, heels, hair and make-up done to the nines. We were meeting Stella inside, apparently, and I expect the guys will also be inside or on their way.
We never ended up meeting at Lucas’s first, the mess of my emotions meant it took every bit of cajoling and finesse for Rosie and Addison to pull me out of the shower, force me into this skimpy bit of clothing, wrangle my hair into something of a wave, and apply some mascara. They are lucky I let them drag me into that Uber. All I wanted to do was curl up with my Special Edition of Age of Innocence, watch The Notebook, and cry into the hoodie Jessie left in my room. The real gut punch was the quick sniff I took of it before we left–because yes, I’m pathetic–and in case you’re wondering, yes, it still smells like him, and yes, Rosie scolded me for being tragic and had to re-apply my mascara.
My heart beats a little faster at the memory of Jessie saying he would be here, but I have to shove that hopeful little sucker back down. There is no hope in hell Jessie is coming out to see me–the destroyer of worlds. I’m not above begging, though. I would beg for Jessie to be with the guys when they rocked up. I know he is probably done with me, God knows I don’t deserve his forgiveness, let alone his attention, but I want to apologize one more time, not just for the mistake, but for pulling him in only to drop his heart on its face.
I know he deserves better. I just want one more goodbye.
We make it into the main bar, which is already packed, and we spot Stella with Lucas and Ethan. I can’t help the way my eyes are immediately searching the perimeter of the room, but I know he isn’t here yet. Because I would know, I’d feel him. I’d sense his gaze on me like a brand. It was always that way with us.
Not anymore. I ruined us.
“Alright, drinks, first round’s on me!” Rosie calls, and we spill our orders as we take a seat at the high bar.
“Happy birthday, Case!” Lucas says with a large smile. Ethan’s enthusiasm is at a two in comparison, but he gives me a half smile and wishes me the same, along with Stella.
“Thank you,” I reply, not feeling any of the ‘ happy’ for this birthday.
“What did you wish for?” Lucas asks. But, because I can’t say, a big burly lumberjack to sweep me off my feet, kiss the shit out of me, and remind me how much he loves me, instead I say, “For winter to be over.” A small round of chuckles hits the table, and Rosie makes it back with the drinks.
“To our eternally sunny girl, happy birthday, Casey!” Rosie raises her drink in the center of the table. Everyone follows suit in a woo, before we drink and settle into the table. I feel anything but sunny right now.
“So, how’s the studio?” Stella asks, leaning her chin on her palm and looking at me. I can’t really read her facial expression. All I know is that her eyes are terrifyingly dark, and I really wish I could do a wing on my eyeliner like that.
“Great, I have a couple interviews coming up with some new trainers, so that should be good. Free me up a bit. Might actually be able to pursue the self-defense classes I wanted to hold.”
“You do self-defense?” She sits up straighter, her eyes now sucking in all my attention. I couldn’t look away if I tried.
“Yeah, I want to. I held a demo class a few months ago, and it was a hit. I just need permanent instructors. My goal is to have at least two. Then I have someone to teach it and the other to assist in the demonstration.”
“What do you need from the instructor or person demonstrating?” This comes from Ethan, who is also just as perked up. I shrug, a little taken aback by his interest in the topic.
“Oh, um, I guess, the demonstrating person just needs to be a guy. I kind of want to help teach women to defend against the actual threat. You know, against someone bigger, taller, stronger, more intimidating. Teaching people to defend against someone like Addison, for example, might be futile when the people more likely to attack them look like you and Lucas.” Both guys nod in understanding, but Addison slaps my arm. “Hey, I might be small, but I am mighty.” Rosie chuckles.
“We know, Addy, don’t worry. Noah has sent footage of you at that Rage place. It’s terrifying.” Addison’s smile is borderline feline.
“I fucking love that place.” She hums and sips her drink.
“Well, I’m happy to be a permanent volunteer if you need,” Ethan suggests, and my head snaps back in his direction.
“Really?” A touch of excitement buzzes through the sadness that swims in my veins.
“Yeah, for sure.” He shrugs. His eyes land on Stella for a brief moment before they come back to me. “I’ve always been interested in helping women stuck in those kinds of situations.” Lucas moves uneasily next to him and downs his drink, gesturing that he is getting another. Ethan follows the movement before he comes back to me. “I want to help where I can, so just hit me up. I have a black belt, but I’m no instructor. I’d be happy to just demonstrate.” Ethan gives me an easy smile, but before I can query further, Rosie interrupts.
“You’re a black belt?!” He smiles larger and nods at her, sipping his beer. Stella only manages a side eye and shifts slightly away from Ethan as Rosie continues.
“My guy, you should lead with that. You just went from like a seven to a nine-and-a-half.”
“Liar, he is at least a nine without the karate.” Addison shakes her head at Rosie.
“Not a ten?” I ask while chuckling, and Addison joins me. Ethan can’t stop his shy smile, but he just looks down at his drink, shaking his head in a chuckle.
“Ten is a very big call. You have to have, like, no flaws to be a ten in my books,” she clarifies. “No offense.”
“So, I’m a ten, then?” Caleb’s teasing hits us from behind and when I look over my shoulder, he and Noah are making their way to us, Caleb having overheard the conversation.
“Hey, shortcake,” Noah coos and leans in for a kiss with Ads. About seven hundred tons of jealousy lands on my chest, and I have to pinch my eyes closed and skull my drink.
He didn’t come. Of course he didn’t come! I betrayed his trust and broke his heart into a bajillion pieces. He isn’t going to want anything to do with me.
“Pest, you are so far below a ten, you’re barely on the scale.” Rosie rolls her eyes at Caleb. She’s wrong, of course. Caleb is just as stupidly attractive as the rest of this group of guys. With all of his arrogance, the insult doesn’t even register, instead he feigns offense, hitting a hand to his chest before leaning in to whisper something in Rosie’s ear with a grin. It appears Rosie had been keeping their one-time romp a secret, and by the way she is blushing and trying to hide the lust from her eyes at whatever he said, she is struggling to keep a lid on that secret. Rosie pushes back her chair, interrupting Caleb’s whispering, and demands, “Ladies, dance floor, now.” Stella and I stand. Addison goes to stand, but Noah lifts her from the chair and appraises her outfit with a frown.
“I really don’t want to get into a fight,” he tells her and she just rolls her eyes.
“Like I can’t fight my own battles,” she deadpans at him, which earns her an intense look.
“I’d like it if you didn’t fight anyone, Addison. It’s my night off,” Lucas clarifies as he makes it back to the table. Noah hits him with a deadpan and I turn, following Rosie and Stella into the throng of people. Not all that interested in coveting Noah and Addison right now.
When I look over my shoulder to see if Addy is following, she is skipping up to me and looping an arm around mine.
“Is the caveman going to be okay while you dance?” I ask. She giggles in return.
“I promised him lots of private shows later in exchange. He reluctantly agreed.” I flick my eyes to where Noah stands and can see his eyes glued to the back of Addy, his gaze never faltering.
“You snagged a good one there, Ads,” I tell her, and when she looks up at me, she smiles gently.
“So did you, Case. Don’t quit him yet.” She winks.
She’s nuts, because quitting him would mean cutting my heart from my chest. I just don’t know how to tell her that I think he’s the one that quit me.
You know why I like gin? Because it makes my head feel like it floats on clouds. Wine makes me feel heavy and tired. Vodka makes me want to run a mile after two drinks and then violently throw up every drink after. But gin makes me laugh. It makes me feel like my skin is buzzing and my heart is wrapped up in joy. It was exactly what I had needed after today, and with everything that happened with Jessie, I want to let go of the shame and the guilt. I just want to forget how much my chest aches and to take this time for myself.
I dance with Rosie, Stella, and Addison in the middle of the dance floor. The guys joined us at a distance, at one of the high bar tables that had dance floor viewing, and we stayed there for a good hour. We all had our fair share of gropers to shoo. Stella has artfully managed the death stare of the century, and most have steered clear of her. Rosie embraces most, but seems overall uninterested. Addison just gestures to where Noah stands at the edge of the dance floor, and after a number of seconds, the perpetrator disappears while she remains smiling and dancing. I’ve been lucky so far. Most are just friendly and looking to dance, which is fine. Stella did scare the living shit out of one when she said she’d flay his flesh if he touched me without permission again. That was fun to watch. But the more the night went on, the more I wanted to be rescued by someone much taller, bigger, scarier.
From the corner of my eye, I feel another confident idiot slink on through the pack and shimmy his way up to me. His chest to my back. I take a small step away from him and he follows. The guy’s hand lands on my hip, and as I go to spin around and scold him, he’s pulled back by the neck of his shirt.
Both surprise and desire rip through me at the same time. Because I really hadn’t expected Jessie to show up, looking downright edible, by the way, and I certainly hadn’t expected him to care about some random guy. I honestly hadn’t expected his attention on me ever again.
Jessie has Mr. Confidence’s shirt fisted in his hand, the guy almost hovering off the ground as Jessie brings his raging snarl into his face. “ Mine,” he growls, coating my skin in awareness, my whole body lighting up at the sight and sound of him. I guess he is still working off that rage.
He drops Mr. Confidence on shaky feet, who scurries away like a mouse running from a lion. When his attention lands on me, the look I see sends a shiver over my whole body. I become a stupid panting mess, feeling my desire pool between my legs. I want him to take me here and now, public indecency be damned. I have so many things to say, so many apologies to make, so many questions about what he is doing here, because seriously, what is he doing here? Are we actually okay? What does this mean?
But those blue-green eyes with flecks of gold are pure ice. Where he’d usually soften or curl the corners of his lips, he only glares. The only difference between me and Mr. Confidence is that the ice is of the hottest fire and they burn with desire, aimed solely at me.
His eyes trail down my body, and I feel it everywhere. He takes a few assured steps forward until he is standing right in front of me. The anticipation alone almost makes me sick, but then, with his magic barista hands, he grips my jaw, pulls me forward, and plants a kiss to my lips. Quick, demanding, and aggressive, with a possessive swipe of his tongue, he holds me in place, and I let him. Open for him and yielding all control to him, begging him to take it. Take me.
A little moan leaves my throat, and when he pulls back, his grip still firm, lips hovering so close to mine, his deep gravel voice hums through my body. “I don’t like people touching my things.” Feminism gone.
Shivers race over my back, and I shudder. Hit with desire and a little touch of fear from his words. Both a declaration and a threat. He was still very mad about the manuscript, but that was a reminder that I am still his. While the sour pit of shame still stirs with guilt over that manuscript I stole and the trust I broke, a little bit of the tension I’ve held all night dissipates at the recognition that he still burns for me and still sees me as his. I am praying he meant it.
The moment doesn’t linger, though. In a few blinks, the domineering show is over and, without another look, he turns. Walking toward Noah and the guys, I watch him go. Like a lovesick puppy under a spell, I stand there, gazing after him, before turning to Rosie, Addy, and Stella.
I haven’t managed to catch my breath, but the whole interaction has me feeling hollow. Every part of me aches for him, and the sudden need to cry stings the back of my eyes.
When I’m quiet for a moment, it’s Stella who breaks the silence. “You good?” She raises a brow and I have to shake my head.
“I mean, yeah… but… he just… What does that mean? Why did he…” I trail off looking over at him again, only to find him and Noah in conversation, every now and then both looking this way before sipping their drinks, the rest of the guys floating around and engaging in conversation around them.
“He just needs to simmer down, give him a beat to catch his breath. He can’t cool his jets like you can,” Addison confirms. I just nod, but still look over at him, not feeling all that secure about where I stand, not sure what any of this means. But he did at least give me part of my birthday wish. He kissed the ever loving shit out of me.
“I think I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell the girls as I try to blink back tears.
“Oh, we’ll come with.” Rosie shrugs.
“No, I just need to go by myself for a second.” Because the gin was winning, and I might cry. They seem to get it and back off as I turn to head for the bathroom.
When the door swings closed behind me, I’m relieved to find it empty, heading straight for the sink to run my hands under cold water.
I splash the cold water on the back of my neck, cupping some to sip and then making my fingers damp to cool down my chest. With my head back and my hand stuck down the front of my dress, the bathroom door opens and I jump back, trying to pull my hand from my dress so fast I smack myself in the jaw.
“ Fuck! ” I shout, and the tears I had been trying to bury start to escape.
“Sorry, sorry, just ignore me. I’m just cooling down.” I wave at whoever entered as I try to find some paper towels. When I get no response, I turn, “Sorry, I—Jessie?! What are you doing? This is the women’s—”
His lips crash onto mine, cutting me off. I hadn’t even felt him approaching. I turned, and he was there. Now, he is backing me against the bathroom sink, his jacket peeled off, thrown to the counter, and he lifts me on top of it.
“What are you doing?” I pant between his tongue dancing with mine.
“Didn’t want your ass to get wet.”
“I meant in here, Jess. We could get caught.”
“I locked the door,” he grunts. His tone, those dark eyes, and deep frown, so at odds with the soft soul I’ve spent the last few months learning and loving. He’s all animal, the darkness, madness, and rage. I’m sure a therapist would have some things to say about the way I find this so incredibly hot, but I don’t much care.
“You drive me fucking mental, stella mea, ” he grinds out as he trails his teeth down my neck. My fingers grip in his hair and I moan as he latches on to my shoulder with his teeth.
“Jessie,” I breathe.
“I’m fucking pissed at you,” he says, his face furious when he pulls back but slams his lips to mine. An embarrassingly weak whimper leaves my lips, and his fingers have the hem of my dress pushed up to my hips and teasing the inside of my thighs. “But I also want to thank you. For today. For the shop.”
That’s what this is. It suddenly makes sense. He isn’t here to have me back. He is here to thank me for today, despite the fact it was the least I could do, that is all this means. And right now, in this bathroom? It’s just attraction. Maybe he couldn’t fight that, but he is still mad and this is probably going to be the end.
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, I’m so sor—”
“No.” He shuts me up with lips, his tongue and his teeth, dragging my bottom lip as he moves to my jaw, behind my ear, my neck, and my collarbone. “We can talk about that later. Right now, I just want to devour you.” His fingers find the edge of my thong, slipping it to the side, and I gasp as his thumb finds my peak in less than a second. “This. Fucking. Dress,” he grinds out, trailing a delicate finger through my middle.
“Jessie, please,” I beg, so desperate for him to surround me, fill me. Exist nowhere but right here with me.
“So fucking wet for me.” He slides one finger in and mutters a curse, using his free hand to lower the straps of my dress. “And this blue? My new favorite color.” My breasts slip out with ease, and he takes one into his mouth, letting it go with a pop while slipping his finger deeper inside me. “We have one fight, and you think I’d let someone else touch what’s mine?” he growls, his finger curling upward, spearing me at a dizzyingly slow pace. I can barely hold it together to keep my eyes open, let alone understand any of his words.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimper, and I almost squeal when he adds a second finger, his pace picking up to an almost punishing speed, and he has to steal the moan from my lips. His tongue demands entrance, and when I open for him, his free hand grips the front of my neck and lightly squeezes to hold me in place. His fingers work me until I’m barely able to tell what year it is. The edges of my vision blur as his grip tightens, and I feel myself become impossibly wetter.
“ Jessie, please, holy fuck, ” I whisper through his grip on my throat.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he grumbles and kisses me again, his tongue drags the length of my neck to the tips of each of my breasts, and when I feel myself grip his fingers ready to fall off the edge, they pause.
He burns me with the intensity of his eyes. They swim with so many unspoken words, so much ice-blue rage, and I can’t help but drop a tear. I feel my heart fill with so much love for every facet of Jessie, all the while it falls into pieces at the meaning of us right now. This feels painfully like… goodbye.
“You seem to have forgotten whose pretty little cunt this is.” The taunt is downright demeaning and also, somehow, the single hottest thing he’s ever said.
My body hums with need, between the heartache, the orgasm on the precipice, and the way I feel him so deep, I can confidently say there isn’t a single person in this world who owns every part of me the way Jessie Jenkins does. “It’s always been yours.” I struggle to hold back the sob.
In a single breath, his fingers leave me, the button of his jeans is flicked, and he pulls them down enough to unsheathe himself from his boxers. In the next breath, he grips his coat under my ass and yanks me forward, his cock landing perfectly between my legs, stealing the gasp from my mouth with his.
He drives into me with haste, not missing a beat, and when my head falls back from the intensity of the orgasm curling inside me, he grips the back of my head, forcing my eyes on him. The blue of them shines as they bleed his pain, the pain I put there.
“ Fuck,” I breathe, and his lips tip up in the corners. A smirk of satisfaction has tears welling up in my eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull my chest flush with his, completely unable to bear the distance between us any longer. I need to feel the firmness of his body and the warmth of his skin just one more time. I need him to know, “I love you so much, Jessie,” I state breathlessly, feeling his grip move to my ass, holding me in place while he fucks. Turning into the savage I asked for that first time. I lose the battle on my tears, and then my orgasm, as it rips through at the increase in his pace.
“ Yes , shit. Fuck! Ace. Your pussy is fucking magic,” he growls, and with a few more punishing thrusts, he comes right along with me.
Like he has done every time, Jessie leaves little kisses across my shoulder, up my neck, and eventually finding my lips, as he pulls out of me silently. When I find the nerve to meet his gaze, his dark eyes scan every inch of me as he fixes himself in his pants. He helps me to my feet, fixes my dress, and pats down my hair, leaning in to leave a longing kiss to my forehead. The final punch to the gut. The seal to our ending. I can’t help but drop another tear and feel as though my heart is being removed from my body. He may have claimed me as his in the most primal way, but I know in my heart and in his eyes, I am no longer his in the way that matters I don’t deserve him and I am certainly not going to make him suffer by staying.