Chapter 19
NINETEEN
KANE
Atowel wrapped around my waist, I sit on the edge of the bed. My knee keeps bouncing as I read through Jessica’s latest message.
Jessica:
I miss you.
I chew my nails before pushing back my damp hair. She’s waiting for a response. I should message her back. Say something.
I toss the phone aside and rest my elbows on my knees. How am I supposed to face her now? She’ll see right through me. I can’t lie to her, and more importantly, I don’t want to lie anymore.
I run my fingers through my hair and tug at the damp strands. She deserves better. So much better. Come on; even that guy, Jackson, would treat her better, but what can I say? I’m selfish. I don’t want to let her go. She’s mine, and I want her all to myself.
I swipe up the phone and start to type a response, but then I hesitate again.
What should I say? I write another sentence but end up deleting it all.
My skin still smells of lilies, but I know it’s all in my head.
It’s not real. No, it can’t be. I scrubbed myself raw in the shower, and any traces of the witch are gone, but I swear her sickly scent lingers on my skin like a brand.
My phone taunts me from its spot among the crumpled dark sheets because I know that if I don’t respond, she’ll think I’m ghosting her again and that I don’t want to see her.
That could mean she might not let me back in this time, and if she shuts me out, I’ll lose it.
She’s my calm and the only thing that makes sense in this messed-up existence.
In the next second, I get up and throw on clothes. I need to see her. I need her like I need my next breath. Hell, at this point, she’s oxygen, and I’m suffocating.
The drive to her house passes in an instant. I’m so determined to find her that I barely notice crossing the bridge to the Falls or driving through run-down streets filled with potholes and blocked drains.
I park behind a boarded-up house, then cover my car with the tarp I keep in the trunk. You can bet your ass the car will be gone in the morning if I don’t hide it.
The silver vehicle is parked in its usual spot, shaded by a large tree. I walk right past it with my head down low and my hood shadowing my face. If Cash saw me willingly wearing a New England Patriots baseball cap and a zip-up hoodie, he’d never let me hear the end of it.
But hey, I have to blend in with my surroundings. My father’s men aren’t particularly bright, but they’d notice someone wearing Armani around here. Come to think of it, you should have seen the look on a recruit hopeful’s face when I told him to get me some football merch.
“Who do you support?” he asks, barely holding himself together because he’s talking to a founding father’s son. They always tremble with fear.
“Support?” I check the time on my watch. Boredom is already settling in.
“Football. What team do you support?”
I frown. “Just get me a fucking cap.”
As I knock on Jessica’s window, she screams and quickly muffles it with her hand. I can’t express how relieved I am to see her.
We lock eyes through the glass, and the constant roaring in my head quiets down. She always has that effect on me.
The window creaks as she opens it to let me in.“What are you doing here?” she whispers, glancing behind her.
I climb inside. Feel Real by Deptford Goth plays through the speaker beside the lamp on her desk. “My brother is home,” she continues. “He’ll kill you if he sees you here.”
I straighten. “We better be quiet then.”
She looks up at me, dragging her gaze over my Patriots cap and hoodie. “Patriots? Really? I didn’t take you for a football fan.”
I’m not. But I’m not completely clueless, either.
I pull her to me. “Careful. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll think you’re into the whole football thing.”
She smiles. “You do know the point of a disguise is to blend in, right?”
A laugh escapes her when I duck down to kiss her.
It’s the sweetest fucking sound on the planet, the kind of thing I wish I could bottle up.
I’m so in love with her that it should be studied.
With one kiss, she makes me forget everything.
With one kiss, she makes me want to be a better man.
With one kiss, she chases away the darkness.
She giggles against my mouth when I tilt my head to deepen the kiss.
I don’t miss how she melts against me, and I cup her cheek with one hand and pull her closer by the waist, tasting her, savoring her, falling even deeper.
She clutches my hoodie, wrinkling the fabric as she rises onto her tiptoes, her tongue sweeping over mine.
We move across the rug toward the bed and stumble over her bag, laughing. Together, we tug off my cap and hoodie before crashing back into another kiss. Then we fall onto the tangled sheets in a mess of limbs. I’m on top of her as she helps me peel her tank top up and over her head.
We kiss again, fervent, hungry, like teenagers who can’t get enough. I’m trembling, turned on and nervous all at once. God, I’ve never felt anything like it. How is it possible that it only gets better with her?
“Touch me, Kane,” she breathes, guiding my hand between her legs. The pulse flutters in her neck as I dip down to press a soft kiss to her skin.
Her lips part beneath my fingers. “God, baby, you’re so wet.”
“Touch me.”
My heart beats a staccato rhythm as I kiss her pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath my lips. My shuddering breath washes over her as I trail my fingers through her slickness, circling her clit in slow, firm strokes until her breathing dissolves into pants and quiet whimpers.
“Does it feel good?” I ask, lifting my head so I can watch her come undone.
I want to see it all and know it’s because of me.
No one else.
Jessica’s lips part as she nods. My heart is kicking hard against my ribs. Jessica gasps and grips my shoulders as if she needs the anchor.
My throat works as I swallow and whisper, “You’re so beautiful.”
And she is. She takes my breath away when she looks at me like she is now, full of want and need and raw vulnerability.
I move down her body, trailing kisses across her smooth skin. When I reach the waistband of her sleep shorts, I hook my fingers into the fabric and drag them slowly down her legs, tossing them aside.
She looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters, and the sight of her like this nearly undoes me. If only there were a way to make this moment last.
I push her thighs farther apart, opening her to me, and glance up the length of her body as my tongue sweeps out, running slowly between her folds.
The taste of her almost unravels me, and my satisfied groan vibrates against her most sensitive parts. I suck gently on her clit, then circle it with my tongue. She watches me with heavy eyes and flushed cheeks, her fingers threading through my hair.
When she grinds against me, I brace a hand on her stomach to steady her and slide my tongue deeper.
She falls back, arching her spine as she twists her hands into the sheets at her sides.
It takes my breath away to see her body roll like waves beneath my hands as her breasts tremble in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
I draw back just enough to flick my tongue over her clit again, then pull her closer to my mouth as she reaches for a pillow to muffle her cries. That familiar ache builds in my chest, but it’s the good kind of pain. I don’t feel dirty touching Jessica.
No. It’s the opposite.
Which is why I groan against her and lick her clean when she finally comes undone.
Maybe it’s the contrast of touching someone you want to pleasure, but as she sinks into the pillow with a spent, dreamy expression, some of my broken pieces glue back together.
I settle beside her, cushioning my head with my arm, and we gaze up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Instead of distancing myself, I should have come here sooner. What was I thinking?
Warmth settles in my chest as Jessica hooks her little finger in mine.
She kisses my shoulder and shifts onto her side.
For a second, I wish I could forget about Beverly and what I’ve done.
But that feeling of wrongness returns all at once, and when Jessica slips her hand beneath my waistband, instinct takes over.
The pulse in her wrist hammers as I grip her wrist to stop her.
I want her to touch me. I want it more than anything. I just can’t do it now with the memory of Beverly’s nails on my skin.
Those theatrical moans of hers still ring in my ears when I close my eyes. God, there’s that gross feeling again, the one I can’t scrub off.
Jessica pulls her hand back, and her confusion shows as she looks at my face for answers. I don’t know what to say or do. So I sit upright and fold my arms around my knees.
It’s better that she stares at my back than sees the truth I can’t hide.
The mattress dips as she sits up and runs her hand up my back. “What’s wrong, Kane?” she asks softly, pressing her lips to my shoulder. Lies fucking suck. I can’t tell her the truth because she’ll never look at me the same way again.
Shaking my head, I quickly drag a hand down my face. I don’t want her to see the emotion there.
“That was for you,” I say instead, while she keeps rubbing my back. “I didn’t come here for sex. And I don’t want you to think that.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” Her tone is playful as she rests her chin on my shoulder, and I smile despite myself, then lie back down and pull her into me.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she says, and hides her face in my chest.
“Wait, what?” I push up onto my elbow with a frown. “You could never make me uncomfortable—”
“I thought because—”
I silence her with a firm, lingering kiss, then whisper, “You don’t make me uncomfortable. Drop that thought.”
“Okay…” The heat of her breath shivers against my chin as she threads her fingers through my hair. I grip her waist, my cock pressing against her thigh, but I don’t want to take it further tonight.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks when I bury my nose in the crook of her neck.
“Do you have any idea how good you smell?”
She pulls back, flicking her eyes between mine. “Kane?”
I try to kiss her again to silence the question on her lips, but she stops me with her fingers on my mouth.
“Are you okay?”
A muscle twitches in my cheek, which she notices, and I bow my forehead to her collarbone, holding her close while she runs her fingers through my hair.
“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.”
“You’d never hurt me,” she says with a conviction I don’t feel.
The scrape of her nails is quite soothing, and I close my eyes. “I will. My life is a fucked up mess, and no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I can’t protect you.”
“I can handle myself.”
I lift my head. “You shouldn’t have to. You’re with me now.”
She tilts her head slightly and drags her nails through my day-old stubble before pulling me down to her lips.
We lose ourselves in each other. When we finally part, my lips tingle and my head spins.
Jessica shifts onto her side and cushions her cheek with her hands. “Will you stay the night?” she asks as I lie down beside her.
“You want me to?”
She nibbles her lip, something soft and vulnerable settling over her face. Something that makes me feel like I might actually be worthy of her. “Yes,” she says quietly.
“What about your brother?”
“The door is locked. He can’t get in.” She leans in closer, eyes sparkling, and whispers, “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
Well, that’s debatable. Afraid? No. Wary? Yes.
The last time I saw him, he pressed a gun to my head, but I keep that fact to myself and meet her small grin with one of my own. “Not at all.”
We observe each other in the faint glow of the bedside lamp. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks. “You look… I don’t know… sad.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m with you right now, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, so trust me, little thief, I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she says, then stifles a yawn and snuggles closer.
I quickly get out of bed to turn off her radio and bedside lamp. The mattress shifts beneath my weight as I settle in beside her, pulling her close.
I’m drifting off when my phone lights up. Careful not to wake Jessica, I pick up my phone from the floor where it must have slipped out of my pocket. The screen nearly blinds me, so I turn it down, but then my muscles lock up, one after the other.
Beverly:
attachment
It’s a short video recording.
I should know better than to click on it, but my curiosity gets the best of me.
As I press play, the crude sound of ferocious fucking cuts through the silence. Beverly had recorded herself on all fours earlier, the camera showing me over her shoulder as I was screwing her from behind.
Panicked, I quickly click out of the video, silencing the moaning, grunting, and slapping skin. I toss my phone aside and hold my breath. When Jessica doesn’t stir, I exhale slowly, still shaken.
What was I thinking coming here? What the hell am I doing?
A sliver of moonlight creeps toward the bed as I carefully get out of bed to find my hoodie. It’s somewhere on the floor.
The bag almost trips me up as I fumble in the dark. But luckily, I catch myself on the dresser before knocking over anything else.
Her bedroom at night feels like a more dangerous obstacle course, and by the time I pull my hoodie over my head, I’m just glad I’m not hurt.
As I’m about to slip through the window, I glance back and see her small figure beneath the blanket.
I can’t do it. I can’t leave her when she asked me to stay.
No, I need to leave.
It’s for the best.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I go to jump out. But something stops me.
Climbing back in, I carefully close the window and draw the blinds.
I get into bed, and Jessica turns to face me, murmuring my name. Warmth fills my chest as I pull her onto me so her nose is against my neck.
I won’t let anything keep me from her again, and I won’t let anything come between us.
Not even the vibrating phone in my pocket.