“Whatever, I’ll just go to bed in this snack-free hell.” She ambled toward her room. I dove in to stop her from opening the door.
“Not your room tonight. Come on. You’re with me tonight,” I whispered, redirecting her to my room.
In the bedroom, she shoved her pants down, her bare butt exposed. She shook her butt, looking over her shoulder at me. I cursed whoever invented the thong, making it possible for my fakegirlfriend to be both covered up and so naked at the same damn time. I walked around to her front so I wasn’t ungentlemanly.
“Didn’t you say you could satisfy me, Ben?” Her voice was deep and velvety.
I laughed it off. “Not right now, Sweet Cheeks. You need to sleep it off.”
“You know what would help put me to sleep, don’t you?” She looked at me from under her lashes. I swallowed, heat flashing over my body. Of course, I wanted to tear into her. I wanted all of her. And if it had been any other girl I didn’t care about, I’d have done what she asked. Well, not if they were as drunk as she was. Not exactly consenting territory.
But either way, I knew it wasn’t right with Jessie that night. It could fucking crush me if she decided it was all a bad idea the next day—if she even remembered it the next day. My body fucking ached for her. But I couldn’t settle for scraps of her. I needed all of her, or nothing.
For once, I took the smart route. “Not tonight, hon.”
“Why not? You scared?” she drawled, tugging at the hem of her shirt and dragging it up her body with a little smirk.
“You don’t do casual, babe.”
“I could with you.” She did a little dance with the bottom of her shirt almost over her boobs.
“What if I don’t want that?” I asked.
Heartbreak fell over her face. Oh my God, she thought I meant I didn’t want her when every spare fucking thought was about her. “Jessie—”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess I’m probably not your type.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“But you don’t want me.”
“That’s not what I said—”
She was stuck with her shirt over her head, stumbling around. She fell, folding in half over my arm. That’s when I saw the scar on her lower back. It looked like a fern had been burned into her skin.
“Jessie.”
“What?” she snapped. “I get it if you’re not fucking me, but are you going to help me or not?”
I blew past that, tracing my finger over her scar. “Who did this to you?”
She gasped and straightened, wobbling as she bolted upright and pulled her shirt back down. “No one.”
“Jessie, I need to know who did that to you.” Rage burned inside me, not with her, but with whoever did that awful thing that left a mark on her beautiful body.
“No one!”
“Did Cole do that?” I was getting angry. Why was she hiding it from me? Why was she trying to protect this person?
“No!”
“Then who, Jessalyn? They’d better be in fucking jail.”
She laughed, fully guffawing and snorting.
“This isn’t funny, Jessie.”
“I don’t think you can put Mother Nature in jail, Mikey.”
