Chapter 12
JADE
I’m screwed.
I can’t stop thinking about the accidental conversation we had this morning about you-know-what.
It doesn’t help that the house was spotless when I got home, and we cooked dinner together.
Now we’re sitting in the living room, watching another movie.
Josh is shirtless and wearing these ridiculously low-hanging cotton shorts.
He’s also not wearing any underwear. Those hip V things are too-on-display for there to be boxers underneath.
He’s also eating popcorn and licking the salt from his lips.
I can’t stop sneaking peeks. His chest, those abs, and strong shoulders, and that sinful mouth that offered to do sinful things to me this morning, have me tied up in knots. I’ve never been this on edge.
My palms are sweaty.
Knees weak…
You know the Eminem song.
Only this is about Josh, not whatever he was rapping about.
My heart won’t stop pounding like a drum.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was on the verge of a panic attack.
But I’m not. For the first time in over a year, I managed to get through an entire day at work without dwelling on the past. Not once did I smell their breath or recall their vitriol.
Not when all I can think about is Josh. Ever since I woke up this morning with him cupping me there, I’ve been a live wire.
Skin buzzing. This funny sensation is whirling in my stomach. I can barely sit still.
Chewing my inner cheek, I face the television and try my hardest not to look at Josh, with his messy blond hair, his tattoos, or his feet, which are propped up on the coffee table, missing a pinkie nail. He lost it when Hunter dropped a dumbbell on his toe, and it never grew back.
There’s movement when he gets up, but I glue my eyeballs to John Travolta.
I don’t ask him what he’s doing, as that’s none of my business, but I feel the air of him brush by when he exits the living room.
My ears lock into his every move throughout the house.
The creek of the floor. A cupboard opening, then closing.
I sound like an insane person. All because of this morning.
I’ve never had anyone offer to go down on me and sound excited to do so.
Sure, men have tried to pick me up before.
It happens. I have a vagina. It comes with the territory.
But I’ve always shut it down, or Josh has been there to do it for me.
Which is always a relief. So, what I really mean is I’ve never had the opportunity to be offered.
Had it been anyone else but Josh, I wouldn’t have sat all day in my tattoo chair, inking some random person’s skin, with my brain locked on other things, things that had my panties soaked through.
This has never ever, ever happened before, and I’d be lying if I wasn’t absolutely terrified by it.
Which is silly, I know, because it’s Josh.
Ugh.
More movement has the hair on my arms standing on end.
His footsteps draw closer, and I swear my heart detaches, grows limbs, and climbs up my throat like a face hugger in Alien.
Something cool brushes the outside of my arm, and I jump.
In humiliating slow motion, a plastic bowl full of popcorn launches into the air.
Kernels make a break for it and rain all over me, my chair, and the floor.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry.” Throwing my blanket off my lap, I launch into frantic cleanup mode.
Dropping to my knees, I right the now-empty popcorn bucket and toss every piece into it.
A slew of apologies pours like sap from my lips.
I don’t even know what I’m saying, as I scramble to fix this—my stupid, stupid mistake.
Josh’s firm hands land on my shoulders, and I jump again. “Babe, stop. It’s okay. Let me get the vacuum.”
“No. No. I got it. This is my fault.” Launching to my feet, tears well in my eyes as I brush crushed popcorn off my bare knees.
Josh grabs me and hauls me against him before I can get away. Thick arms wrap my shoulders, and I plaster my cheek to his warm pec. “Calm down. It’s okay.” His fingers comb through the back of my hair.
But it’s not. None of this is okay. I was raped and ruined, and my son has had to deal with the shell of a mother for over a year. I tried to kill myself and forced my best friend to watch. Now I’m here. I’m broken. I’m…
The tears fall, coating Josh’s chest. I don’t even try to stop them.
I shatter, overwhelmed, needy, and just so damn tired.
And he holds me through it. Every broken piece that wrenches out of my throat, he takes.
Every snotty blubber. It’s too much. Everything’s too much.
I miss my sisters. I miss my son. I miss me.
The me I used to be. Sure, she wasn’t perfect, but she was better than this.
She was better than obsessing over a man, wondering what it might be like to have someone touch her sweetly down there and maybe like it.
When every ounce of pain drains from my soul, Josh pulls back and cups my face. Forcing me to look up at him, he swipes the mess from my damp cheeks with his thumbs. His expression is soft. Not judgmental. Just loving.
“I’ve got you,” he vows, and I believe him.
My bottom lip wobbles. “I’m sorry,” I blubber.
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Cuffing his hand around the side of my neck, Josh presses a thumb under my chin and holds my gaze.
He inhales deeply, filling his chest, and for some reason, I mimic him, drawing air into my lungs until my chest gets tight.
When he exhales, I do too, releasing what’s left of my hot mess into the ether.
“It’s just popcorn and you’re allowed to cry,” he adds.
“But the popcorn wouldn’t have happened had I been paying attention.”
“It’s okay.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me, babe.”
“I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had this morning, literally all day. I can’t stop thinking about it… and that’s not okay. I’m… I’m such a mess.”
“Thinking about my mouth on your pussy, is not a bad thing, Jade,” he reasons, his voice crushed velvet.
How can he go and say it like that?
“Yes. It is. Don’t you understand that?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t do those things, and you have a girlfriend.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” More than anyone else.
“Then maybe, we should go into the bedroom, and I’ll lay you down, and we can try. Maybe you’re thinking about it a lot, because that’s what you need.”
“But what if it’s not? What if I don’t like it?” What if it’s ugly? What if I have a panic attack or worse?
“Then we stop. But something tells me we are both going to like it. A lot.” His smirk says he believes just that.
“What if you don’t?” Doesn’t he get it? What if it’s bad? It could be.
“I will.” That damn smirk of his transforms into a smile like he finds me funny or something else entirely.
I slap his pec. “Josh. I’m serious.”
“So am I, babe. I’m gonna love it. I know I will.
We’re gonna take it a step at a time. First, things first.” Josh releases my neck and clasps my hand in his and slowly escorts me to the bedroom.
Every few steps, he checks to see if I’m okay, but we don’t speak.
Entering my room, he leads me over to the bed, where he kneels and, oh-so-gently, staring up at me from the floor, hooks his fingers into the waistband of my pajama shorts and panties and waits.
“Are you ready?”
Am I?
Probably not.
But…
Swallowing hard, I nod just once, afraid that if I speak, I’ll chicken out, and I don’t want to. I want to try this. I need to. My body wants to give it a chance, even if it ends badly.
My trembling fingers sift through his soft hair as Josh offers me the sweetest grin before sliding my bottoms to the floor. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to watch. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if…
A surprised squeak eeks out of my throat as warm air puffs over my bare mound and a tongue slips between my lips. Josh moans like he likes it. Like this isn’t gross to him. My breath stalls, and my knees nearly buckle.
I cannot believe this is happening.
“Let’s lay on the bed, sweetheart, so I can touch you.”
Words fail me as I fall back onto my mattress and my eyes pop open to find Josh standing at the foot, a tent in his shorts with a growing wet spot.
His lips are red. Gaze feral. He places a knee on the bed and stalks forward until he’s hovering above me.
Nuzzling his nose alongside mine, breath fanning over my lips, Josh reaches under my ass and scoots me higher.
Another surprise squeak surfaces as he moves me with so little effort.
WHITE BOY
This is it.
This is when I prove myself.
Fuck. Look at her.
Flushed and breathing heavy, biting that bottom lip, spreading her legs apart so she can cradle me in her hips. I rest my covered cock against her bare pussy. Jade’s responsive moan is music to my ears.
“Is this okay?” I check, not wanting to cross any lines that might make her uncomfortable.
Those impossibly green eyes widen, and she bobs her adorable head.
“You sure?”
More head bobbing ensues, which is fucking cute as I rub my cock against her heat. It soaks into the fabric of my shorts, and when she shudders, I soar. She’s far more sensitive than she thinks. This beautiful woman of mine is just… fuck.
Leaning down, I brush my lips across her cheek to the shell of her ear. Jade’s nails bite into my arms as she trembles, emitting the cutest little sounds. “Can I lick your pussy now?”
She gasps. “Josh.”
“I need your permission, babe. Tell me what you want,” I whisper before I sit back on my knees, between her spread thighs, and offer her my hand. “Make me touch you.”
She looks at it like it’s diseased and doesn’t know what to do with it. “Josh.”
“Trust me, babe. Put my hand on your pussy. Give it to me. Give me you. It’s just us here. If you want to stop, we can. Anytime. Okay?”