“No, I don’t.”
Another kiss, this time on my right cheek. “Tell me.”
This is me standing on the edge of a precipice. Behind me is safety. The safety that also comes with long, miserable and lonely days, vanilla dates with nice men like Matthew. In front of me is excitement and ecstasy that slide on a razor’s edge with Jester.
“You’ll break my heart again.”
Jester releases my hands, and on instinct, I wrap them around him and hold him as if he’s an anchor and I’m lost on a raging sea. He hugs me close and whispers in my ear, “Never again, Faith. I swear it on my fucking life. Never again.”
Am I crying?Shit. Wasn’t expecting that. This man—and only this man—has the power to rip my emotions to shreds.
“Please…”Please kiss me.Please take away the pain you put on me.Let me unsee the things I saw.Please be telling me the truth, that you won’t hurt me again.
“Kiss me, Fizzle.”
And I do.
I kiss him until we’re both so lost in it, we’re practically having sex right out in the open in Jester’s yard. Not that anyone can see. His house is secluded, with Wraith and Jamie his nearest neighbors. But still, I manage to pry myself off him—with Jester none too pleased about it—and poke him square in the chest with my index finger.
“You better not fuck up again. You understand me? I’ll cut your damn balls off this time.”
He makes an X over his heart. “Swear to God and hope to die. But I have a warning of my own. You’re mine. No more of your stubborn bullshit. We leave the past behind us, and we start over, fresh, because I’m going to fuck you today, and after this, I’m going to keep fucking you every chance I get. Then we’re going to find the pricks who hurt you, and I’m going to kill for you.” His hold tightens around my wrists, his usual playfulness replaced with an intensity that’s as equally thrilling as it is frightening. “Do we have an understanding, Faith?”
I flatten my hands on Jester’s chest, his heart a rapid beat against my palms. He’s giving me an out. I can slide off his lap, walk back to the house and return to work. Leave this kiss here to rot on the ground. Pretend this never happened. Never again have his lips on mine. Or have his incredibly talented hands explore my body. Leave him to the hang-arounds who infest Sanctum like roaches.
The very thought makes my heart feel as if it’s been ripped out of my chest.
“You shattered me, Jester.” I breathe. “Now you have to glue the pieces back together.”
13
Jester
Not a problem.
Okay, wait. Technically, we have a teensy problem. Now that I have Faith right where I want her, I’m a tragedy of contradictions. If my dick has his way, he’ll go caveman on her. My heart, however, wants me to be all sweet and tender. And my brain is trying to get both of those organs to cooperate.
But seriously, putting her shattered pieces back together? It’s something I’ve wanted to do for the last seven years. In fact, I’m practically giddy with anticipation.
I want all of Faith all at once. To consume her like the greedy bastard I am. Until today obliterates the memory of the morning when I ruined us. True, I’m still a criminal. A deviant. A clown. A raging asshole. Difference is, this time, I’m done trying to do the right thing the wrong way. We’re both adults, and she made her choice. No one put her on my lap. I’ve actually been a perfect gentleman this past week. Practiced the utmost restraint—even while she was cuddled up next to me every damn night.
And if that doesn’t win me a spot in heaven, I don’t know what will.
But you know what? No more good guy. I’m not a hero. And apparently, I suck at pretending to be all Clark Kent, because my last attempt at it blew up in both our faces. Nah, I’m better at being the villain.
Also, villains are more fun.
One of the best features of my house is the privacy of its location. It allows me to slide my hand between the valley of her perfect B-cups without anyone seeing what we’re doing. The perfect backdrop. Wild and beautiful, like Faith.
I trail lower. Over her stomach, to drag a single finger along the waistband of the pink cotton shorts. It’s a slow tease because I won’t rush a single second of touching her. Not even if it kills me. I’ve waited too long to get here not to take my time with her.
“Every time I jerked off, I thought about you.”
Her laugh is breathless. “Thanks for the visual.”
“You’re welcome.” I dip my finger lower. “Who do you think about when you touch yourself?”
She shakes her head. “No one.”
