6. “I Wanna Be Sedated”
“I WANNA BE SEDATED”
Wrapping a towel around her body, Jocelyn carefully stepped out of the shower, mindful of her tender ankle. After combing out her waves, she squeezed her curls with an old cotton shirt and crossed the hall to her bedroom.
“Deelie? Where are you, baby?” Typically, Cordelia waited just outside the bathroom when she showered.
Her absence filled her with immediate concern.
“Cordeli—Jesus—fuck!” Her heart bolted out of her chest at the sight of Soren sitting on the chair in the shadowed corner of her bedroom like a fucking serial killer. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“I used the hidden key.”
“Where’s my dog?”
“Downstairs in the dining room, with a bone three times her size.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you here?”
“We need to talk.”
Jocelyn scoffed and went to her dresser to find panties. “No thanks.”
“I heard you hurt your foot.”
“Ankle. And what do you care?”
“Joce, you know I care.”
“I know nothing of the sort. And I have a busy day, so if you don’t mind closing the door behind you when you get the fuck out, that would be awesome.”
She opened the closet and swiped through her wardrobe.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Fine. Stay. It’s no sweat off my tits.” She pulled out a mustard blouse and her high suede boots, very aware of his gaze following her every move.
“You seem to be walking fine.”
“I took some aspirin.”
“Which foot is it?”
“The left.” She tugged a pair of fitted jeans from the drawer. “I have to get dressed.”
“So?”
“Soren,” she said in an exasperated tone.
“Jocelyn,” he echoed in the same tone.
“You’re a fucking child. Whatever.” Throwing her towel aside, she stepped into her panties.
“Mmm. Nice.”
She rolled her eyes. Let him look. That was as far as he was getting.
“Turn around so I can see your front.”
“Eat a dick.” She slipped on her bra, but when she reached back to clasp it, he caught her hand.
“Turn around,” he repeated, voice low.
She closed her eyes when his body heat pressed into her bare skin. “Soren, please.”
“Please, what?”
“We can’t keep doing this.”
He slid his hand over her chest and cupped her breast, dragging his thumb over the tip as it formed a hard point. “What if I don’t want to stop?”
She sighed as he urged her body back so her weight leaned into him. He was already hard.
This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right that he had this sort of control over her body when her mind and her heart were barely speaking.
“How was your date?”
His hand stilled. “I drove her home after we left the restaurant.”
“Did you stay with her?”
“No.” He offered no further details as he pulled her bra off and tossed it back in the drawer. Still holding her hand captive, he lured her closer to the bed. “I had a visit from Wren this morning.”
“Oh? What was that about?”
“You know what it was about.” He paused and trailed his fingers between her breasts, dragging them slowly down her sternum, until he cupped her through her panties.
“She knows about us, Joce.” His hand slowly fed into her panties and found her clit, strumming softly.
“So does Greyson. And now, probably Logan.”
“Whose fault is tha—unh.”
He hooked a finger inside of her and tugged her back to his chest as he practically growled in her ear, “Mine.” He said it like he was staking a claim. Taking ownership. Wrapping his arm around her torso, he held her in a possessive, inescapable grip. “I’m going to fuck you.”
Her sex fluttered, clenching around his fingers as he kissed her shoulder beneath her damp hair. Every touch softened her resistance and had her leaning more and more into him.
But then she remembered the way he acted last night and her anger spiked with a vengeance. “You. Don’t. Want. Me,” she reminded through gritted teeth, shoving his hold away.
He tugged her back, not letting her go. “Does it feel like I don’t want you?”
Her jaw trembled as his erection pressed into her spine.
“And it feels like you want me, too,” he taunted, fingering her wet pussy with little resistance.
Despite her body’s welcome, her heart protested. “Well, I don’t want to want you.”
“Yet here we are. I touch you and…” He bit her shoulder.
“Well, you’re right there with me, hating how bad you want me.
We know how it always ends.” His lips dragged along the slope of her shoulder, his fingers teasing her closer to climax as he refused to let her go.
“What were you doing at Salt & Ember last night?”
Her breath caught as he whispered against her skin, his fingers tracing tight circles around her clit. “I was walking home.”
“Strange route to take.” He pressed his finger deeper, and her traitorous body betrayed her even more. “Why was he touching you?”
Her head lulled against his shoulder as he dragged his palm over her clit, deftly feeding his fingers in and out as arousal coated his knuckles. She was a slave to his touch and hated herself for it.
“Answer me, Jocelyn.”
“I don’t remember. I was drunk.”
“I’ve seen you drunk. You were tipsy at best. Why was he touching you?”
Her breath hitched as he worked her closer. Just a few more seconds and she’d come.
“Answer me.”
“He was holding me up.”
“Because you hurt your ankle?”
“Yes.” It was getting difficult to speak.
She swore this wouldn’t happen again. Last night she’d made up her mind, deciding once and for all that they were over. But maybe one last time was the closure they needed.
He withdrew his touch and turned her to face him. She felt the loss of his touch like a blow.
Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her to his front, his mouth a mere breath from hers. “You were this close. How the fuck does this help your ankle?”
Feeling tricked, she shoved him. “Asshole.”
“Answer the question. Why was he so close to you?”
“You’re a fucking cock tease.” She moved to cross the room, but before she made it two steps, he caught her wrist again and yanked her back. “Soren, stop!”
“We’re not done.”
“I am. I have to get to town.”
He crowded her until the mattress met the backs of her thighs. “I wanted to kill him when I saw his hands on you.”
“You were on a date!”
“But I wasn’t touching her the way Logan was touching you.
” He toppled onto the bed, caging her in with his body.
The clink of his belt buckle was her only warning.
He caught her knees, tugging her to the edge of the bed, then wrenched her panties aside and pushed into her with stunning entitlement.
She should have stopped him. Slapped him. Fought him. She had every right to be outraged, but the truth was, she still wanted him.
“Why do you make me so crazy?” He thrust deep, burying himself to the hilt with punishing force. “I’m not a jealous person.” He pumped hard and fast, pinning her arms back. “Why do you have this effect on me? You, of all people.”
“Yeah, I fucking hate you too—”
He silenced her with a kiss, as if he could somehow call the words back. “You don’t hate me.” He swirled his hips, slowing his speed but losing none of the intensity. “Fuck, Jocelyn.”
She felt it too. The volatility. The chemistry. The passion. But for all the pleasure he stirred, she only wanted to cry.
“Wren thinks we should stop lying to each other.”
“Wren should mind her own business.” She planned to have a stern talk with her friend. She was turning into another Hideaway Bay busybody. “This is the only way we communicate.”
“I know,” he laughed. “Which is exactly why we’re in this position.” Releasing his hold on her wrists, he plumped her breast and sucked the tip into a sensitive point, nibbling and flicking his tongue as he drove into her with long, hard thrusts.
The bed creaked. The force of his passion drove the breath from her lungs as her orgasm built once more.
But this wasn’t about connection. This was about his possessive nature.
Last night he saw something he didn’t understand, and it scared him.
His fear should have left the moment he realized his misunderstanding.
But it didn’t. On the contrary, he seemed more possessive than ever, as if he came here to mark his territory.
“I don’t belong to you, Soren. Just because you fuck me—”
He kissed her with bruising force. “Shut up.” He bit her lower lips, driving his cock hard and deep.
“What do you want, Soren?”
“I want you to admit you feel something for me.” He captured her nipple between his lips.
Jocelyn raked her fingers through his hair, holding his mouth to her breast as he pounded into her hard and fast.
The sounds pouring out of him were raw and vulnerable, but she was lost when it came to deciphering them. “Why? What’s the point?”
“It matters. Tell me the truth. What do you feel when we’re together?”
Why was he doing this? They never talked about their feelings. He had to have some sort of angle beyond getting laid. “What do you want?”
“You! I want you. Isn’t that obvious?” The second the words left his mouth, they both stilled. Lips parted, eyes locked, they stared at each other in a painful haze of truth that burned with far too much reality, so she panicked and slapped him across the face.
“Fucking brat,” he said with little anger behind his words, driving into her hard and fast, forcing her to take all of him.
Some part of him needed this. He needed to fuck her like he wanted to break her. Maybe they both did. But it fixed nothing. They were already dysfunctional in so many ways. What would one more broken part mean?
She didn’t have a better solution, so she gave in. Every breathy sigh, every hard thrust, every whispered kiss was a wordless accusation as much as an apology, thick with emotion and heavy with all the things they refused to say out loud.
He didn’t just press his lips to her flesh. He consumed her. Licking, biting, sucking until every inch he claimed bore his mark.