Chapter 15
S omething had thawed around my broken heart since going feral with Jessa in the rage room. I noticed it whenI found myself nodding good night at the security guard at the gym, whom I usually just ignored. I said thank you to the cashier when I went to buy myself some food instead of my usual anti-social grunt. I even looked through some more photos on my phone without completely losing it. I scrolled through images of Rose kissing me on the red carpet, wrapped around me in the hot tub at my birthday party, and a slightly out-of-focus shot of her giggling as I tickled her where she was lying on the carpet of our bedroom. I ended my walk down memory lane by looking at the photo I had taken of Jessa and me. Without overthinking, I texted her for the first time. I didn’t say anything; I just sent her the photo. She was absolutely stunning in it, standing next to me with her crazy long curls, her big smile, and her flushed cheeks.
I noticed that I looked happy. It hit me square in my chest, and again, I wondered if I could somehow have both—the life I had to return to and the girl I had found here. For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep in my van without having completely exhausted myself with fury first.
Jessa didn’t respond to my text, and she didn’t show up to work the next day. I played some music, but it was half-hearted, knowing that I would not be receiving a coffee cup with a flirty message on it. I quit early and went to the gym where I poured all my confused feelings when it came to this girl into the weight room. I didn’t leave until my arms were weak and my lungs were burning. I wanted to text her, but I didn’t even know what to say. “Wanna fuck?” didn’t really express what I wanted to convey. “Miss you” made me sound like a stalker.
But I did. I missed her. I missed watching her love-hate smoke sessions. I missed the sound of her husky voice. I craved the smell of the shampoo that she used. I wanted to have another movie night. I wanted to show her a life where days off didn’t have to be a rarity. I wanted to fuck her against the wall until she screamed. She had gotten under my skin with her obvious strength, her sweet laugh, and her snarky one-liners.
I was aware that she didn’t know enough about me to actually like me, but I wanted the chance to show her. I was so relieved to feel something other than anger and heartbreak that I was holding onto these new feelings I had for her like they were a flotation device, which made sense because, up until now, I had been drowning.
I settled on texting her “Hi.” She didn’t answer that one either. Had I read her vibes wrong? She had seemed into me in the rage room. She kissed me back, pulled my hair, and moaned into my mouth. Later, she had wiped something off my beard and had licked my thumb when she had taken a bite of the churro. Had I misread the hug she had given me when I said goodbye to her outside her hotel room? I knew she had said she could only give me one night, but I thought we had bonded somehow over the movie and our licorice straws. I wrote another song before falling asleep. I titled it “Hi.”
Awareness hit me as soon as I opened my eyes the next morning. It was an anniversary of sorts—the day I had met Rose four years ago. I rolled over in my van bed, and my muscles screamed in protest. I didn’t want to play music today. I didn’t want to look at strangers and wonder if they could see the pain I was in. I didn’t want to stress about why Jessa wasn’t answering me. I didn’t want to do anything other than languish in bed. Usually, on an anniversary, people would be out celebrating and pretending that love was the answer to all of their problems. For me, it was the cause of all of mine. The precursor to all of the intense pain I was in.
“Fuck love,” I muttered, pulling the blanket back over my face. I had almost fallen back to sleep when my phone buzzed, where it was tucked under my pillow. I felt my heart skip a beat when I saw that it was Jessa, or coffee girl, as her contact name read. I had just got done cursing out love, and here I was, simping over a girl.
“Hi.” Her text read. I started to type back, asking if she was okay, when another text popped in. “Wanna fuck?”
I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. On one hand, yes, I absofuckinglutely did, but on the other hand, it felt like she was using me again. I would gladly let her, use me all up if she wanted to, please and thank you. But truthfully and painfully, my heart wanted more. I felt a connection to this crazy-haired girl with a funny sense of humor and an affinity for combat boots. I wanted to know what her eyes would look like when I took her to exotic places. I was curious if she liked my music. I wanted to tell her all of the things going on inside my head, even the things I had never shared with Rose. Things like how the music industry had started to burn me out or how money had seemed like the answer to everything in the beginning. But now, I realized it didn’t actually make me happy, and even that thought made me feel depressed. I didn’t just want to be the busker guy whom she fucked a few times and then left behind. Instead of saying any of that, I just texted back, “When and where?”
A few minutes later, she replied, “My room. Now.”
I didn’t want to tell her I was so pathetic that last night, I had parked in the parking lot of her hotel, and I was already here, so I just didn’t respond. Instead, I threw on a tank top and a pair of jeans, skipping the underwear. Then I sprayed on some cologne, slipped a bunch of packets from my new box of condoms into my pocket, pulled back my hair, grabbed my guitar, and ten minutes after she had texted me, I was at her door, knocking.
She looked worn out. All my thoughts of going down on her in the hallway at the entrance of her bedroom left my mind as I took in the circles under her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping in and shutting the door behind me. She hesitated.
“Do not lie to me,” I demanded. Bossy Kian was back, I noted. She looked offended.
“I never lie.” She almost sneered. “One thing I hate most in the world is liars. I can forgive almost anything else but lying…” She made a tutting sound with her tongue, and my heart sank just a little at her statement. I was one big walking non-truth right now, and I hoped when she found out that she would forgive me.
“Okay, so tell me the truth.” I placed my guitar down and stuck my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
“I didn’t invite you here to talk.” She sighed. “I told you exactly what I wanted from you.” She cocked her head and stared at me, but I could see the sadness in her eyes.
“What’s wrong? Is Myles okay?” I ignored her attitude. In the short amount of time that I had been getting to know her, I had learned that her defense mechanism was to be prickly in the face of adversity, so something had to be going on, and I wanted to know what it was so I could fix it for her. At Myles’s name, her face crumbled, and she started walking away from me. I stepped closer to her, curving my body around hers as she began to cry. I rocked her gently from behind, then once I felt her body start to sag against me, I picked her up and held her like a baby in my arms as I carried her into her room. I didn’t let go as I sat down on her bed. I just held her and let her cry. I feared the worst, being that Myles hadn’t stuck his head out of his room or let out a laugh from the couch in the living room.
“M-Myles went to a private sober center today to finish his detox. I left as he was getting an IV. He’ll be there till Saturday. I paid so much of my savings for it, but he was doing so b-bad here.” She hiccuped. “I couldn’t leave him in the hospital again. It’s terrible there.”
“I know,” I murmured against her hair. I felt so relieved to hear that he was alive and was getting help.
“He couldn’t keep any food down, and he was in so much pain.” She sniffed, and her sobs quieted as she sat up in my arms.
“So you dropped him off and then texted me?” I prompted. She nodded.
“Why didn’t you text me before? I told you if you needed anything…”
She held her head high. Cheeks flushed, lashes wet from crying.
“I can take care of it by myself. I always have.” She wiped the tears off her cheeks and stared at me.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to. I can help.” I felt her shift in my lap as the look on her face almost turned to disdain.
“I don’t even know your last name. Why would I text you to help me bring my brother to a detox center?”
I sighed. She wasn’t wrong.
“It’s West.”
I braced myself in case she recognized it, butshe just asked, “What is?”
“My last name.”
She shrugged.
“Okay.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that I still had time to sort things out and then hit her with the truth as I retorted, “So I’m not good enough to help you, but I am good enough to dick you down?”
“Something like that.” She was purposefully being insolent. I imagined she was emotionally exhausted from worry and physically exhausted from playing caregiver for the last two days. I needed to shut her brain off and fuck the attitude out of her.
“Okay.” I gave her a look and kept my tone low. With her still in my lap, I reached behind me and pulled my shirt off. I then extracted the string of condoms from my pants pocket as I ordered, “Take off your clothes and lie on your stomach.” I didn’t even look at her as I stood to pull off my pants, dropping them carelessly off the side of the bed. When I looked back over, I saw that she had listened. She was trembling slightly in what I hoped was anticipation, not fear, but to be safe, I double-checked with her.
“You want this, right, Jessa? You want me?”
She turned to look at me.
“I want you,” she confirmed.
“Are you sore?” I asked, referring to what we had done a few days ago. She shook her head, so I promised, “Okay, good because you will be when I’m done with you.”
She let out a breathy moan and gyrated her hips against the sheets.
“Don’t move,” I demanded as I circled her waist with my hands. “You cannot come until I tell you to. Say you understand.” I pulled her toward me and then covered her body with mine.
“I understand.” She moaned again as I entered her with no warning and bottomed out with one stroke. God, she was so tight like this. I hadn’t even checked if she was ready, but I was happy to find her soaking around my cock. I could tell that she had been slick even before I got to her room. I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back slightly so she was arching off the bed.
“You think you’re too good to ask for my help, huh?” I intoned into her ear as I fucked her relentlessly into the mattress.
“N-no,” she cried out. My hips snapped against her ass.
“So you just like being mean to me?” I nipped at her ear and then sucked on her neck.
“I’m not,” she protested as she tried to look at me, but I pulled her hair harder, forcing her to keep facing straight. She whined but didn’t say anything. Gone was her sass. It was a beautiful thing to take a wild woman and tame her with your touch. I let go of her hair, allowing her shoulders and head to fall back to the mattress, and then I shifted so that my body was lying almost completely on her, holding just a bit of my weight up with my hands. I was fucking her so hard that I could hear the sounds of me moving in and out of her with every snap of my hips. She was holding onto the sheets with clenched fists and was panting.
“I need to come,” she demanded.
“Too bad.” I sat up on my knees, pulled out, turned her to her side, held one of her legs up, and then drove back in.
“Fuuuck.” She groaned and slapped her hand against the pillow next to her.
“I told you to hold still.” I slapped her chest lightly, and she writhed against my touch. I swatted each breast, her stomach, down her thighs, and then her ass.
“Y-yes. Yes.” She grabbed one of my hands and held it to her warmed-up skin as I kept drilling into her.
“Please make me come,” she mewled, turning her head so she could beg me with her eyes. I shook my head, and she fell back on the bed with a frustrated moan.
“You’ve been bad, and bad girls don’t get to come.” I slapped her ass again, appreciating the jiggle it made from the impact.
“What can I do to be good?” she begged. I pulled out again and dragged her to the edge of the bed. Then I stood up, placed her legs on each of my shoulders, and slid back in. She was so wet it was dripping all over the sides of me.
“You can listen better.” I reached down and pinched one of her nipples as I rubbed the other. She nodded frantically.
“I’ll listen,” she garbled.
“How?” I was panting now with the effort of keeping her on the edge.
“When I need help, I’ll text you,” she acquiesced. My heart warmed at her submission.
“That’s a good girl.” I watched as she lit up under my praise. “What else?”
She looked confused. I pushed my luck.
“Am I just a good lay?”
She wriggled her hips under me, and I held her still beneath me. I reached between us and circled her clit quickly. She gave out a breathy groan.
“Answer the question. Do you just see me as an available dick?” I took my hand off her clit. She shook her head, her hair going crazy.
“No?” I confirmed.
“No.” Her eyes were getting wild and glassy.
“Suck me.” I pulled out, yanked the condom off, and watched as she scrambled onto her knees and sucked me into her mouth. She had to be getting a mouthful of latex, but she didn’t falter. I closed my eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling of her warm, wet mouth all over me. After a few minutes of listening to the sound of her sucking and gagging, I squeezed her jaw gently, but enough to make her stop. I pulled out and leaned down until my forehead was resting on hers.
“At the very least, I want you to know that I am your friend,” I told her softly, my cock bobbing hard and insistent between us. She blinked but didn’t say anything. “But if you’ll let me, I could be something more.” I slapped her ass again.
I treaded lightly, knowing she was going through an emotional time right now, and I didn’t know her well enough yet to know what would send her running. Although I knew she was strong and could hold her own, everyone had their breaking point. I was painfully well-versed in breaking points. She blinked again. I leaned in and kissed her. Her soft lips parted, and I licked my way into her mouth as I put on another condom and slid into her again. I fucked her slower this time as I slipped my hand between us and rubbed her clit in time with the movement of my hips. I felt her clamping down around me. Between the noises she was making and the erratic movement of her body, I could tell she was close.
“Come, baby,” I whispered. She did. She was so loud when she came. Her pussy clamped down on me, and she squeezed my hand that was resting on her stomach. I fucked her through it as I talked to her, saying things like, “You’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck. Yes, like that. You’re gonna make me come.” And she did. I exploded so hard inside the condom that I ended up bending over her from the glorious pressure of it. She turned her head and leaned up to kiss me as I came down from my orgasm. I smiled against her mouth. She hadn’t said no, so maybe I had a chance. My brain held onto the kernel of knowledge tighter than the traumatized side of me felt comfortable with.
I picked her up again, and she wrapped her legs around me as I carried her to the bathroom. I turned the shower on, and she protested, “It’s not a hair wash day.”
“What does that mean?”
“My hair is too curly and thick to wash more than once a week, and I just washed it yesterday.”
She was distracting me with her curves and her biteable thighs.
“Okay, so wear a shower cap.” I picked up the one the hotel left near the soap and began to unpack it from its box.
“That's not exactly an attractive look,” she joked, but I finally saw a tiny sliver of her, showing that maybe she did care what I thought of her. She was so flippant, confident, and chill that I could never really tell if she was just having fun with me or if maybe she could actually like me.
“I think you already know that I’m attracted to you.” I gestured to my dick, which was hardening back up against my thigh. “Wear the shower cap.” I handed it to her and watched her twist her hair up into a bun and then place the shower cap on her head. She made a face, and I leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose.
“You’ve never looked better.” I grinned and opened the shower door, ushering her in ahead of me. I sudsed up her whole body with the mini bottle of body wash. Notes of jasmine filled the room, which was now cloudy with steam. My hands ran over her curves, and I grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to me. Her slick stomach and thighs met mine, and I ground my dick against her. She let out a breathy gasp and reached up to hold onto my shoulders. I felt her running her hands up and down my lats and the bulges of muscle in my arms. I heard her murmur something, but I didn’t catch it.
“What did you say?” I leaned down as I washed the soap off her body.
“You’re so ripped,” she repeated. Her hands were now tracing my six-pack.
“You like it?” I asked, shamelessly fishing for a compliment. She nodded, her shower-cap-clad head bobbing.
“Yeah?” I kissed her and then got onto my knees in front of her. “Touch it all you want… I like it, but know that I can also use it to protect you.” I kissed a path down her ribs and around her belly button.
“Protect me from what?” She seemed confused. I avoided answering by putting my tongue on her clit and looked up to watch her eyes roll back in her head. If I needed to protect her from anything, I could. I was now a machine. I could defend myself and those that mattered to me. Nothing like what happened to Rose would ever happen again. I had made sure of it. I focused on making Jessa finish in my mouth and ridding myself of my usual distressing thoughts. I didn’t have a lot of time left with her before I had to fess up to who I really was. Maybe if I spent a majority of that time in between her legs doing more of this, she’d be willing to be a part of my future too.