Sincerely, Your Enemy

Chapter 17

Lacey

“ I ’m so sorry, Lacey. Please, please forgive me.”

There’s buzzing in my head.

“I’ve been such a bitch to you. This is all my fault.”

I can’t hear a word the person says next. I’m too busy chasing my senses, all of which seem to be just outside of my reach as I emerge out of the darkness.

My head is pounding. Why am I so dizzy? And why does my neck hurt?

“Lacey? Lacey, can you hear me?”

Only then do I recognize my sister’s voice.

“I think she’s waking up.”

The memories flash before my eyes at the same time they fly open.

Sierra chokes on a sob. “Lacey, thank God!”

It’s all blurry at first. Until I feel a pull on my hand and make out a silhouette on my right.

I immediately recognize my sister. She’s the one holding my hand—more like crushing every bone in my fingers, if you want to get technical about it.

“What’s going on?” I’m surprised I even managed to put a sentence together.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Sierra promises.

“We’re taking you to the hospital. You’re safe,” a man I hadn’t noticed says, and I realize Sierra and I aren’t alone.

I’m lying on my back.

And we’re moving.

Well, we aren’t moving, but we’re in a vehicle that is.

An ambulance, I think.

“You fainted. Your friends called an ambulance,” the man I can only assume is a paramedic says.

“What about Chance?”

“He’s on his way to the hospital, too. Don’t worry.”

God, my neck hurts so much.

My first reflex is to reach for my throat, but the man stops me. “We’ve got the bleeding under control. It’s a surface wound. You’ll be just fine. Now, do you remember what happened?”

That’s when it hits me.

Sierra nearly got taken.

Then they tried to take me, and one of the men cut my throat.

“I… Someone tried to kidnap my sister,” I choke out.

“We know. The police will take care of that, but first, we need to make sure you’re okay.”

He goes on to ask me all sorts of questions—such as how old I am, what day it is, and how I would rank my pain out of ten. I answer every question right and tell him my migraine seems to be improving the longer I’m awake. Although, that doesn’t ease the pit of anxiety growing in my stomach.

“You scared me half to death, you know that? Never do that to me again.” My sister’s eyes are overflowing with tears as she intertwines our fingers and brings our hands to her mouth to kiss my knuckles. “Oh, God, you must hate me. Do you hate me? Of course you hate me. I hate me.”

I could never hate her, and I’m sure she knows that. But I should definitely be mad at her for keeping this from me and nearly getting killed in the process. The truth is, I’m mad at myself.

“I don’t hate you. If anything, this is showing me that I haven’t been doing a good job. I’m a terrible guardian.”

Her face twists in shock. “Are you kidding me? You’re an incredible guardian. We owe you everything, Lace. If it weren’t for you, Oli and I would’ve been separated and thrown into the system. You saved us.”

Now I’m the one who’s crying. “That doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing. I can’t protect you. I’m not Dad. Tonight showed me that.”

“No, no, you can protect us. It’s just…” She stops to sniffle. “You’ve protected us too much.”

My mouth falls open.

“What?” I try to sit up but instantly get dizzy. The paramedic and Sierra urge me to lie back down, which I do out of necessity.

“We’re here,” the paramedic says, interrupting us, and the ambulance takes an abrupt left turn. The next thing I know, the back doors are swung open, and I’m being carried out of the ambulance by two large men.

I thought nothing could ever top the day I got the phone call telling me that my dad had died. But this night? Needless to say, it’s a close second.

From wrestling an anxiety attack while trying to find my sister, to nearly getting kidnapped in her place, to fainting in the parking lot after the bad guys got away, I just know this ordeal will go down as one of the moments I’d give anything to forget.

Thank God TJ was there to catch me. Otherwise, I would’ve hit my head on the concrete.

The police showed up to take my statement on what had happened a few hours ago—it turns out the girls called 911 while locked in the car—and Sierra and I told them as much information as we could.

They sent us home after running a bunch of tests and drawing the conclusion that the intense adrenaline rush had been too much for my body.

I have no idea how I’m going to explain the stitches on my neck when Oliver comes home from his friend’s place tomorrow. I’m just grateful he’s spending the night there and wasn’t around to witness this shitshow.

“Are you okay?” TJ’s voice is thick with concern as we walk into my bedroom a little after 3:00 a.m.

After we found out that they were keeping Chance overnight—he was diagnosed with a bad concussion—we said our goodbyes to Theo and drove home. The girls were so exhausted they passed out in the car on our way back and went straight to bed when we arrived.

I have every intention of asking Sierra what she meant when she said I’ve protected her and Oli too much, but I figured we’d both been through a lot tonight and could pick up where we left off tomorrow.

Since Kelsea’s stuff was already at our place—the girls were supposed to have a sleepover—she’ll be sleeping here tonight. I don’t want either of the girls to be alone after the night they’ve had.

“Lacey?” TJ calls for my attention, and I snap out of it, whisking my head to look at him.

“Mm?” I drop onto the edge of my bed, barely keeping my eyes open.

“I said are you okay?” He steps closer, studying my face like he’s trying to commit my features to memory.

Honestly, I’m not okay. Not even close. I’ve always felt like a bad guardian, but watching your sister almost get taken because you couldn’t keep her safe? Now, that will make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made.

I rub my eyes. “I’m okay, just tired.”

The concern on his face doesn’t dissipate in the slightest. “And your neck?”

He doesn’t wait for my response, crossing the space to sit down next to me.

I skim the injury with the tip of my fingers. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

The gash left from Gabriel’s knife was nothing a few stitches couldn’t fix. Of course, I’m going to have to follow strict care instructions to avoid infections, but I’m not too worried about it.

“You sure? You don’t want the pain meds they prescribed?”

“Even if I wanted them, it’s past 3:00 a.m. Everything’s closed,” I say.

“I think there’s a twenty-four-hour drug store across town. It might be a while, but I can go pick them up for you if?—”

I only realize what I’m doing once my hand comes to rest on top of his. “I promise I’m okay. It can wait until morning.”

I can’t believe he just offered to drive all the way across town to get me pain meds after the hell we’ve been through.

I’m not sure my heart can handle this version of TJ. The adorable, caring version. I’m afraid if he doesn’t stop, I’ll be falling with no hope of ever getting back up.

“What about you? Are you okay?” I ask.

He’s all bruised up, with a cut on his cheekbone and another one on his mouth. The cut on his bottom lip has been deepening with each of his smiles, and while he’s done a very good job pretending like it doesn’t hurt, I see through his act.

He shrugs. “Eh, I got off easy. I’m pretty sure I broke that guy’s ribs.”

I scoot closer to him on the bed. “Still. Looks like it hurts.”

TJ stares me dead in the eye, and says, “What hurt was watching them take you away in that ambulance.”

My mouth hangs open. Adorable TJ is back at it again, and call me weak, but I’m too tired to resist him right now.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he adds.

I furrow my brow. “What? Why?”

He directs his focus to my neck, staring at the stitches indicating how close I came to meeting my maker tonight. Then he exhales a sharp breath, taking his thumb to my throat and slowly running the pad of his finger inches below the gash.

A jolt of need tears through my entire body, goose bumps rising to the surface of my arms at his touch.

Our gazes lock, but he doesn’t remove his hand, keeping it there, right next to a wound he obviously feels responsible for. My heart flutters when he whispers, “He shouldn’t have been able to hurt you. I shouldn’t have let him.”

He can’t seriously be beating himself up for this.

“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. You were a little tied up trying to save my sister’s life.”

He gives a small nod, but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“I’m the one with regrets. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been a terrible guardian.”

“You’re not a terrible guardian. You’re human. There’s a difference.”

I scoff. “Please, my dad definitely rolled over in his grave tonight.”

“You do realize this is your first time experiencing life, don’t you?”

His comment gives me pause.

“Just like it was your dad’s first time being a parent.”

I never thought about it this way.

He’s right, though. We tend to put our parents up on a pedestal and assume they know everything about everything when in reality, they’re just normal people experiencing parenthood for the first time. I’m sure he also had moments where he doubted himself or felt like a complete failure.

“There’s no manual for becoming a parent at eighteen, Lacey. You’re being way too fucking hard on yourself.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion or leftover emotion from what we’ve been through, but his kind words bring tears to my eyes.

My throat becomes clogged with guilt. “I… I just feel like I’m letting him down somehow.”

He winces when I start crying, the first tear coursing down my cheek. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to… Come here.”

He opens his arms for a hug, and I immediately scoot closer to sink into his embrace. It feels strangely natural. Me resting my head against his chest, him propping his chin on top of my head. It’s like second nature. And it’s terrifying.

I let out a small laugh and wipe my face with the back of my hand. “It’s not you. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s up with me tonight.”

His arm closes around my shoulders, his touch packing a ridiculous amount of warmth and comfort. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time either.”

Wow, I’m being so self-centered right now.

Here I am, whining about being a shitty guardian when he’s also been taking care of his sister.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Considering that he nearly got himself stabbed to protect me and Sierra, I think the least I can do is try and get to know him.

He nods. “Hit me.”

“What happened to your mom?”

I immediately know asking wasn’t a good call. He grows stiff at the mere mention of her, his posture shifting from relaxed to noticeably tense in a fragment of a second.

A deep sigh escapes him. “She… had to leave.”

Seconds elapse.

Then he adds, “For work.”

I don’t believe him one bit. And normally, I might let it slide, but having tact is a skill that requires energy I simply don’t have at the moment.

“That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

Our eyes lock, his reflecting how uncomfortable he is with my interrogation.

I have no idea what he’s been through, but after we buried my dad, it was impossibly hard for me to talk about him. Anyone who dared ask me what happened or how I was feeling would get a blend of half-assed answers and comforting lies.

I couldn’t let them know that I’d been crying myself to sleep every night since his death or that for a brief, fleeting moment, I’d considered taking my own life because the thought of filling his shoes fresh out of high school was too much to bear.

Whatever TJ’s hiding, he’s hiding for a reason. And seeing as I was in the exact same position once, I can’t blame him.

“It’s okay,” I croak, nuzzling my face into his shirt, inches below his bloodstained collar. We both desperately need a shower and a change of clothes. “We all have secrets.”

The look he gives me after that… You’d think I just told him I spent my days microwaving my hamster as a kid.

“That’s it? You’re not going to grill me for answers?” he asks.

“No. Not tonight.”

The confirmation seems to have a soothing effect on him because his shoulders release all tension.

He waits a few more seconds and then asks, “Do you have secrets?”

I separate from him and fall backward onto my bed. “Oh, yeah. For example, I hate driving in the rain. I tell people it’s a safety concern, but really, it’s because I’m convinced it killed my dad.”

The irony of me oversharing after he’s just refused to answer my question isn’t lost on me.

TJ follows my lead and lies down on his back. “What makes you say that?”

“The fact that he’d taken that route home a thousand times before . He knew it like the back of his hand. A thousand times driving down that exact road, and nothing ever happened. Except for that one night. The police said his car hydroplaned because of the storm. That’s the only difference. The rain . That’s what made him lose control of the car. That’s what killed him.”

TJ doesn’t say anything, but he shows me his support by grabbing my hand. My heart gives a jolt when he intertwines our fingers.

I let out a bitter laugh. “All because my siblings and I wanted pizza. It was hailing outside, but the restaurant was just seven minutes from our house. We didn’t think this would happen.”

TJ rolls onto his side, and I instinctively do the same. God, the look in his eyes. It knocks the breath out of me.

He looks like he genuinely feels for me—and I’m not talking about surface “aw, that sucks for you” compassion. He looks like he’s experiencing every bit of my pain along with me.

“Thanks for sharing your secret with me,” he breathes and inches closer to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

Alarms blare in my head.

This is too much.

The deep, unfiltered confessions about the worst day of my life. The empathy in his eyes. How is it that I can feel this connected to someone who’s barely ever shared details about his life in return? How is it that I trust him when he doesn’t seem to fully trust me?

To this day, TJ’s the only person I’ve ever confided in about my grief. Starting with the time I broke my dad’s mug and lost it in front of him. I remember the way he held me. That was when I first started considering him my friend.

I nod. “You’re welcome. I just hope one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me yours.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I’ve been looking for my biological father,” he admits against all expectations.

I don’t say anything, treating him in the same way I would approach a baby doe. Quietly, carefully, not to scare him off.

He exhales. “I know it’s pointless because he walked out on us when Kelsea and I were just kids, so he’s obviously not worth being found, but I’ve spent my entire life wondering why he abandoned us. Was it another woman? Another family? I just… I couldn’t go on not knowing.”

“And? Did you find out anything?”

He hesitates but ultimately decides to keep his answer vague. “Nothing of substance.”

It’s obvious there’s more to the story, but it’s a miracle he even told me anything at all, so I figure pressing him for answers wouldn’t be the right move.

“Thanks for sharing your secret with me.” I recycle his line from earlier.

He cracks a smile at the same time a massive yawn creeps up on me.

“That’s my cue.” He pushes to his feet. “What time do you want me to pick up Kelsea tomorrow?”

I sit up. “W-Wait, you’re leaving?”

I sound pathetic, so damn pathetic, but the truth is, I don’t want him to go. His eyes find mine, and my breath catches in the back of my throat.

“I didn’t want to assume anything. I can stay if you want me to?—”

I cut him off. “I do.”

His eyebrows shoot up in shock, but he seems rather pleased by my response. “Then I’m staying.”

TJ’s going to spend the night with me.

In my bed.

I should be a nervous wreck. I mean, I haven’t had a man in my bed in over two years, but, somehow, I’m completely at ease with the idea.

He glances down at his T-shirt and tugs at the hem, the dry blood staining his collar appearing darker in this light. “Do you mind if I shower?”

I give him a once-over. His dark hair is a mess, clinging to his forehead and covering parts of his brown eyes—and that’s on top of his bloody shirt and roughened-up face.

The annoying part is, seeing him all bloody and bruised doesn’t even come close to putting a damper on the sizzling attraction I feel for him.

I can’t blame him for wanting a nice, hot shower. He hasn’t had a second to himself since the ambulances came. He and Theo drove straight to the hospital and waited for hours for news about Chance and me.

“Sure, I’ll just go in after you.”

He answers with a polite nod and makes a beeline for the door, stopping right as he’s about to walk out of my bedroom. Hesitation oozes out of him for a moment, as though he’s debating on something.

Finally, he casts a glance over his shoulder and says, “Do you…”

Is he going to ask me what I think he’s going to ask me?

He stops, shaking his head like he just had some sense knocked into him. “Do you have some clothes I could borrow?”

Disappointment sinks in my stomach.

“Of course. I still have my dad’s clothes.”

He clears his throat. “Thanks.”

Then he’s gone.

That’s not what he was going to say. I know it in my bones. He was going to ask me to shower with him, wasn’t he?

No, he wasn’t. You’re delusional.

The mocking voice in my head is loud, but my desires are louder. Why did he chicken out? Did he think it would be inappropriate to ask after the night we’ve had?

Or maybe he really did want to ask about my dad’s clothes but felt unsure if it would trigger me. He knows how well I reacted to taking out my dad’s things the last time he needed a change of clothes.

Just. Stop. Overthinking.

It doesn’t matter if he wanted to ask you. What do you want? I might be insane to even consider it, but I think I want to join him. With my heart thundering in my ears, I slip out of my clothes and throw open my closet to grab a purple silk bathrobe.

Am I really doing this?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

The floor creaks as I head down the hall toward the bathroom. I can hear the water running, so I’m guessing he’s already in the shower.

I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling a gust of air, and turn the knob slowly.

It’s unlocked.

Did he do that on purpose?

My jaw drops at the sight of him. I was wrong. TJ’s not in the shower. Instead, he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, fully clothed, with his head clutched between his hands, seemingly in deep thought.

His head snaps up when I come in, the emotions in his eyes undecipherable.

Oh, God, what is he thinking?

I just totally invaded his privacy. I didn’t even knock. What if he’d been butt naked? Ever heard of manners, Lacey?

“I was hoping you’d do that.”

Am I dreaming?

“Y-You were?” I stammer.

“Yeah. I just wasn’t sure if telling you all the dirty fucking things I want to do to you was a good idea, considering you nearly got kidnapped tonight.”

Thank God I was right.

“Lock the door,” he commands before rising to his feet. He’s so assertive and powerful in the way he talks I feel compelled to obey.

TJ smirks once I’ve obliged, stalking toward me, and it takes all I have to hold his gaze rather than cave beneath its intensity.

It would seem whatever decorum was keeping him from making a move back in my bedroom lost the fight against his animal instincts.

The last thing I could ever want right now is for him to stop, and yet when he closes in on me, I instinctively backtrack against the closed bathroom door.

He tilts his head at my body language, an amused grin pulling at his mouth. “Not trying to run away from me, are you, rich girl?”

“N-No.”

Jesus, Lacey, get a grip.

He fills the remaining space between us, bringing his mouth inches away from mine, and says, “You sure? Because if you’re going to bail on me again, I’d rather you do it now. Last time’s blue balls nearly fucking ended me.”

“I won’t,” I assure him.

He nods, so close to me I can feel the warm pant of his breath against my lips.

“Remember you said that.”

Ironically, what he does next ensures that I can’t think straight, let alone remember a single thing, including my own name. He grips my silk bathrobe into his fist, uses that to pull me closer, and smashes his mouth to mine.

All I can do as he takes my mouth against the door is claw at his bloodstained shirt, bunching the fabric between my fingers in the same way he’s holding my bathrobe. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t run out on him, but you’d think he’s worried I was lying by the way he’s keeping me flush to him, tugging on my bathrobe harder every time I withdraw from his kiss to breathe—although, if I have to choose between oxygen and letting TJ devour me, I choose suffocation every time.

My hands come to rest on each side of his face, and I open up, allowing his tongue to slip inside my mouth, ruining every kiss I’ve ever had in the process.

I can’t hold back a moan when his teeth nip at my bottom lip, and that seems to spur him on because he lets go of my robe and grabs my waist, his thumbs digging into my hip bone as he groans. “I don’t want to tear that sexy little robe to shreds, so please, please , for the love of God, take it off before it’s all over the floor.”

There’s something about the hottest guy you’ve ever seen desperately begging you to take your clothes off. Seriously. I’m pretty sure my brain chemistry’s just been altered forever.

I inhale a sharp breath and reach for the ties of my bathrobe. I can feel the weight of TJ’s scrutiny as I pause, fidgeting with the ties but never undoing them.

His eyes snap up to mine, the hunger and irritation on his face making my thighs clench. “Don’t fucking play with me, Mattson. Take it off, or I will rip it to shreds.”

Anxiety stirs in my gut, but I try to play it off with a smirk. “I will if you will.”

TJ doesn’t answer. All he does is take a step back, look me dead in the eye, and strip. No hesitation. He just slips out of his clothes, throwing his shirt over his head and kicking off his jeans.

I’ve seen his cock before. Well, as much of it as I could see in the darkness of the tool shed, but I’d never gotten the whole picture. Not like this.

And can I just say… he looks like God assigned the making of his body to the world’s most talented artists.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew TJ was fit and took care of himself, but holy mother of…

He’s not just out of my league.

They’d have to make a whole new league just for him.

He interrupts my gawking at him by reminding me of our agreement. “Deal’s a deal, rich girl.”

My fingers are trembling, but I finish what I started just the same, unfastening my bathrobe in one go. The silk cascades down my body, landing at my feet, and I nearly close my eyes just so I don’t have to witness his reaction.

It’s not that I find myself unattractive. It’s just that he’s so unbelievably perfect a part of me is scared I couldn’t possibly measure up.

TJ doesn’t seem to agree, though, because his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when I drop my robe. And I have no doubt, seeing the way his cock hardens and his mouth hangs open, that he’s enjoying the view.

“Christ, Mattson, you’re…” He pauses, at a loss for words. “…I could say you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and it still wouldn’t come close to doing you justice.”

My insides melt at his words, and I can’t think of a reaction more appropriate than kissing him.

Our bodies clash together so fast he barely has a chance to register what’s happening before I’m sweeping my tongue across the seam of his mouth and lacing my arms around his neck.

This isn’t just kissing anymore. We’re completely naked. This is intimate. Extremely vulnerable. It cranks up the sexual tension by a thousand.

His arms close around my waist at the same time our tongues tangle together, and his cock rubs against my stomach, sending heat straight between my legs. This kiss is all tongue and moans and desperation. I came in here thinking we’d have casual shower sex, but this feels like so much more.

Especially after the hell we’ve been through tonight.

TJ drops his forehead to mine, chasing his breath, and plants another hard kiss on my mouth before banding his arms around the backs of my thighs and carrying me into the glass shower without breaking a sweat.

I thought he’d put me down once we were under the water, but he doesn’t seem to have any intention of letting me go, plastering my body against the freezing shower tiles as his tongue traces along my lips and slips between them to taste mine.

He positions us to the left of the water stream, the steam mixing with the cold air and creating a warm mist around us.

In this position, there’s no ignoring how big his cock is. The tip is resting against my stomach, but if he were to slide down, he could easily push inside me.

He parts from my lips for a moment, running his own along the curve of my jaw and then burying his nose in the crook of my neck to breathe me in. “You drive me fucking insane, Lacey. Like out-of-my-mind insane. I don’t want to take this too far, but I… I can’t fucking handle what you do to me.”

Desire is pumping in my veins, making it impossible to think straight as I begin to rock against him.

“I don’t want to take this too far either.” I bite down into my lower lip. “Should we stop?”

His cock starts to throb against my stomach, and he brings his mouth to the sensitive spot under my collarbone, sucking the skin between his teeth. “Probably.”

My head falls back against the shower wall, and TJ grabs the opportunity to explore my weaknesses further, dragging slow kisses along the side of my neck and groaning every time a moan slips out of me.

“We can stop, it’s not that hard. Right? We can just stop whenever we want.”

“Right,” he rasps against my skin. “Whenever we want.”

My resolve nearly snaps when his mouth latches onto my soaked breasts, bruising each one with hard kisses. Then he’s twirling his tongue around my nipples, sucking, biting, and marking me all over.

The next thing I know, he’s cupping each of my breasts with his hands and downright devouring them.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’m in trouble.

“You have no idea how much I’ve craved those tits.” He circles my nipples with his tongue again and again, until I’m arching off the shower wall and gripping his hair as though I’m trying to hurt him. “And that mouth…” He crashes his lips to mine again but doesn’t stay there long enough. “And that adorable stomach…” One of his hands snakes down my body. “But not as much as I’ve dreamed about filling up this needy little pussy.”

With that, he stops, glancing at me and searching my gaze for any sign of doubt.

“What else do you do to me?” I surprise myself by asking. “I-In your dreams?”

His eyes flare.

I gasp when he reaches for his cock and aligns the tip between my folds. “Then I slide between your pussy lips…”

I can’t help rocking harder, needing him to take it all the way, which he does a moment later, guiding his cock upward until I feel him press against my center.

“…and I rub your little clit until you’re all good and wet for me.”

That’s when I know there’s no way we won’t be crossing the line if he keeps this up. He begins playing with me, using his cock to hit all the nerves in my clit on repeat.

“TJ…” I moan his name as quietly as I can—because the last thing I want is for our sisters to wake up and hear us getting down and dirty in the shower.

“Fuck, you feel so warm, rich girl,” he groans and speeds up his thrusting between my lips. “I can just imagine how tightly you’d squeeze my cock. How good it would be.”

Another gasp leaves me when he lowers his length to my entrance and stays still, keeping it close but not sliding inside. I can’t stand this. How much I want him.

The words leave my mouth without my consent. “I don’t want to imagine it.”

I can’t believe I just said that. Can someone tell my mouth the rest of my body did not agree to this?

TJ pulls back a few inches, his mouth falling open at my request. “What are you saying?”

One look into those dark eyes, and it all becomes clear.

I’ve spent over a year so hyperfocused on not being a total failure of a legal guardian that I forgot my life didn’t end at eighteen. I’ve denied myself so many things since, starting with sex and intimacy.

I swallow hard, debating on repeating myself or wussing out. I could tell him I didn’t mean it, but I would be doing myself a disservice. I think I need this. To do this one thing for no one but myself.

I level my gaze with his and say, “It means I want you to fuck me.”

The look on his face is priceless, conveying so much shock and arousal I wish I could snap a mental picture and look at it whenever I need a reminder that it is, in fact, possible to shock Mathias Jacobs silent.

I clear my throat. “You heard me. I haven’t been fucked properly in forever, and I want you to do it.” My confidence falters for a moment. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course.”

A few seconds are needed for him to collect himself, but then he snaps out of it, squeezes my throat, and pulls me closer to kiss me.

He separates from me too quickly for my taste and rests his forehead against mine, staring deep into my eyes as he rasps, “No.”

Talk about anticlimactic.

I chew into my bottom lip, embarrassment painting my cheeks red. “Why not?”

A small smile makes his lips twitch. “You said it yourself. You haven’t been fucked properly in a long time, so no, I’m not going to have sex with you just hours after you had a knife held to your throat. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

Well, then.

I drop my gaze, avoiding eye contact. “I understand. You can put me down.”

He doesn’t budge, still holding me up in his arms. He has me pinned against the shower tiles with my legs wrapped around him in a way that makes it hard for me to move.

Instead of setting me free, he laughs quietly and inches closer to press a featherlight kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I said I’m not going to put my cock in you. I never said you weren’t going to come on it. In case I didn’t make myself clear before, I always finish what I start.”

I don’t even get a chance to form a coherent sentence before he’s gripping himself at the base and pushing his cock farther into my slit, picking up where we left off.

“Oh, and just so we’re clear, turning you down took every ounce of my self-control, so please know that the next time you ask me, I’ll tell the gentleman in me to go to hell and fuck you right there and then.”

Holy sweet mother of God .

“Now, where were we?” His free hand wraps around my wet hair from behind as he rocks his cock against me hard and fast.

My moan is muffled by his mouth raining down on mine. I dig my nails into his shoulders for support, shifting to try and adjust to the overwhelming pleasure, and he groans through the kiss. My clit is so engorged, so sensitive, that I can’t stop wriggling.

“Fuck, I love watching you squirm because of my cock, rich girl. The way it was meant to be.” TJ directs his gaze to the spot where our bodies connect, watching himself glide against the nub I’ve neglected for so long.

He releases my hair and drops his fingers to my entrance, holding his cock with the other and never slowing down his rubbing.

I buckle forward when the tip of two of his fingers plunge inside my pussy. They’re not even fully in, but it adds to the overall sensation, and I’m immediately whimpering, aching for more.

“What? You like that? You like my fingers pushing into your cunt?” he teases, pushing the tips of his fingers in and out a few times. “Does it ache, baby? I can make it stop if you ask nicely.”

I throw my head back with an irritated groan. “Yes. Yes, I need you to fuck me with your fingers. Please.”

I nearly cry out when he squeezes not one, not two, but three of his fingers in my pussy. No warning. The next thing I know, they’re curling in and out of me furiously.

I’m so full of him like this, with no way to escape the raging pleasure building in the pit of my stomach.

“Fuck, you’re so tight when you clench, you push my fingers right out,” he rasps, stretching my walls further.

It feels too good, his fingers working my G-spot from the inside while his cock rubs me in rough circles. I’m starting to come apart at the seams, and all I can think about is how amazing it’ll be once I reach the pinnacle.

God, I forgot how good sex could feel.

“I can’t wait until I get to feel every inch of you, Lace. Fuck, I could just…” He stops moving for a second. “All this rubbing is making me want to blow all over your pussy.”

Lace .

That’s the first time he’s called me that. And boy does it make my heart flutter in my chest.

Hearing him say how good it feels kicks my hormones into high drive, and euphoria shoots through my entire body. I moan a little too loud, immediately reminded of where we are, but it doesn’t halt the rising pressure in my stomach.

“Shit, shit, I’m?—”

That seems to send him over the edge because he starts to spasm as soon as the words leave my mouth.

“Fuck, Mattson, I’m going to come, too.”

His carnal groan sets off my undoing, and the ache between my legs explodes out of control. My eyes roll back at the same time TJ makes the hottest noise I’ve ever heard and spills all over my clit.

I’ve had some good orgasms with guys before, but with TJ? Let’s just say I’m a writhing mess by the time we collapse back down to Earth.

I’m chasing my breath, my sanity, and most of my senses when he pulls his fingers out of my pussy and circles my throat roughly. His mouth descends on mine so fast I don’t have a chance to tell him how hard he just rocked my world before our tongues are tangling together.

It’s in that moment… as I think back to the way TJ threw himself at two men to save my sister and then gave me the biggest orgasm of my entire life, that I realize I was wrong.

I thought I was standing on the ledge, seconds away from falling for the guy who doesn’t do serious relationships, when really, I was already plummeting to the ground with no hope of breaking my fall.

I’ve caught feelings.

A lot of them.

And this relationship might be fake…

…but my feelings for Mathias Jacobs are as real as they get.