“Are you okay?” Jake asked. “Is it something I said?” He stayed in the middle of the room, which was quite a relief because, despite my apparent anger at him, all I could think about was how good his hands would feel running up and down my body.
“They’re the only reason I’m still alive, you know,” I told him, forcing my eyes away from him and towards the photos on the wall. “They saved my life.”
“That’s what family is for, isn’t it?” Jake smiled again, and for the first time since I’d been around him, his smile seemed nothing short of ... genuine.
But it wasn’t that easy. It never was.
“No,” I said after a moment of silence. “I don’t think, Jake, that family is for scooping your near lifeless body off the floor. I don’t think family is for that.”
My words must have caught him off guard because we stared at each other for a moment, with a heavy, uncomfortable silence settling over the room.
“Did you attempt suicide?” he asked finally. He looked afraid to hear the answer. I rubbed my hand over my face and looked at the floor again, focusing on the fibers in the carpet to distract myself from crying in front of him.
“Yeah, once.” My voice trembled, breathing sharp, and I hated how talking about this made me feel. “After that night at the party.” My chest was so tight like I’d never breathe normally again, and after a moment, I forced myself to look once more at Jake. “I was depressed. Riddled with anxiety.”
The words slipped between my lips like poison, and a cold shudder passed through me. As Jake’s eyes searched my face, a small tear escaped from the corner of my eye and trickled down my face. Jake was there suddenly when I reached my hand up to wipe it away. Sitting beside me on my bed, he reached one hand up to dry my face.
“That's why I got into medicine,” I continued quietly. “I wanted to be a nurse, to help people.”
His touch was electrifying, so startling that I almost pulled away.
Almost.
“I remember,” Jake murmured, running the front of his thumb over my hot skin. “It was the last time we ever saw you. I was sorry, Renee. I was sorry for what we did to you. I was sorry for whatIdid to you.”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t the only ones, I promise.” I shrugged and sniffed, looking away from him, but I couldn’t will myself to move away from his touch. The closer I was to Jake, the more desperate I became for him. I felt hot all over like my skin was smoldering, and all I really wanted was Jake to rip my clothes off and take me, right here and now. I wanted him to fill me up, make me scream his name. I wanted to feel his skin beneath my fingernails. I wanted to—
Fuck, I just wanted him. And I hated myself for it.
“So, what’s the deal with Doucheboy?” He was trying to make conversation, probably for the distraction, but the thought of Jason made me hesitate. I shrugged and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to chew on it, a bad habit I’d had for years.
“He asked if I wanted to go on a date, and I said yes.”
“Do you like him?”
“Yes.”
“Are you attracted to him?”
I must have hesitated for a second too long because Jake shifted closer to me, and when I glanced down, I saw the bulge in his jeans growing, stiffening, and a sliver of excitement shot through me. Blood pulsed through my veins, every area heating like hot lava, ready to explode like an active volcano. I was going crazy.
Chill out, Renee,I thought to myself.You’re going to scare him away.
Ha. Right. Like a man like Jake Denny could possibly be frightened away by the likes of me.
“I ... I think he’s nice,” I said slowly. “He’s cute. In a ... in a boyish kind of way.”
Slowly, Jake’s fingers itched towards my thigh. Our gazes were locked, faces so close that I finally noticed a small, striking scar above his left brow. I wondered how long that had been there.
“Just cute?” he whispered, fingers trailing up and down my bare arm.
I didn’t realize I was still chewing on my lip until I tasted blood, but I didn’t care. It only drove me more. Jake smelled so good, like spice and forest mixed with tough leather. I wanted to lean into him, close my eyes, and just smell him ... just touch him ... just let him take me.
Jake’s fingers slid down my inner thigh as he leaned in, lips gently brushing my own, testing me. His lips brushed mine again, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated... but as Jake’s hand slipped between my legs and teased the heat between my thighs, that’s all it took. My eyes fluttered shut, and I moaned because just the touch of his skin and the smell of him was sending electric pulses through my body.
I slipped my tongue between his lips, desperate for him, as one hand reached down and took hold of his cock, stroking it. A gasp of pleasure slipped out of Jake, and that was all the excuse he needed. He pushed me down on the bed, hard, and straddled me, his face coming down in a long, passionate kiss that I swear made sparks shoot from the end of my toes. He put his knee between my legs and rubbed, firing me up, reaching one hand under my shirt to knead my stiff nipples, now hard and begging for him. I reached my hands down and unclasped the button on his jeans, and he shimmied them off, his dick hard and erect in his boxers, ready to take me. He pulled the shirt over my head, threw it aside, and then did the same with my bra, releasing my breasts. His mouth closed over one of them, and I squealed with pleasure and pain, thrusting my hips up to meet his.
“Wait,” I whispered, holding his face between my hands. “Get a condom. Top drawer.”
