“Sorry you can’t relate, Jim. You wouldn’t know what it feels like to be insecure abo—” The last words don’t get out before Jim’s hand clamps around my jaw, stifling me.
“Say one more bad thing about yourself. I dare you. I’ll stuff my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak.”
I arch a brow at his words, feeling my body heat at this dominant side of him.
“Holy hell.” He pulls back to look at me, not releasing the pressure he has on my jaw. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
Never—never—have I let a man talk to me like that before. I wouldn’t hesitate to slap them across the face for even raising their voice at me. But not Jim. The Jim I’ve gotten to know, the one that works grueling shifts so he can go to a children’s T-ball game, the one that steps in to answer my every beck and call. The one that bought a fucking house so a savage orange cat won’t be cold. There isn’t an ounce of this man that would ever truly degrade me.
I reach a hand down to cup the bulge over his pants, feeling his body flinch under my touch. “Threatening me with this cock?”
The grip he has on my chin loosens, and he brings his other hand up, using them both to cradle my face. He drops his forehead to mine, soft breaths panting against my lips. “There isn’t a thing about you I’d ever change, Megan.” He lets go, resting both palms on the counter at my sides, letting his head hang between us, forehead resting near my collar bone. “I know you don’t need anyone. I don’t even think you want anyone, but God, do I want you.” He laughs, the action almost painful. “You could come with a blinking marquee sign, warning me that a single touch would kill me, and I’d still fight for a chance to kiss you. And with my last dying breath, poison burning through my veins, I’d likely beg you for one more.”
“But why?”
He shrugs, his expression forlorn. “It’s everything. You’re strong. Smart. You’re feisty and beautiful and behind the mask you wear, you have the softest heart I’ve ever seen. You’ve been my girl since the moment I laid eyes on you, and each day I have to go without getting to truly call you mine has driven me crazy.”
My hands roam his face, his hair, falling behind his neck to squeeze. “Jim, I—"
“Want to know my favorite part about that night?” he interrupts, his lips placing feather-like kisses against my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“My favorite part was after the sex. When you fell asleep inmyarms, wearingmyshirt, freshly fucked byme. I wrapped myself around you, and for that small sliver of time I could pretend that you were mine, that we were something more than just one secretive night.” His voice trails off into the eerily quiet room. “Thatwas my favorite part.”
I push his shoulders back, ushering his head up because I need to see the look on his face. His eyes are dark, heavy with lust, but there’s a sadness to him, an insecurity that I’ve placedthere. I know I’ve done little to assure him that if I ever were to consider someone, it’d be him. He’s given so much to me, to Jackson, to my sister, and I’m realizing now how fucking idiotic I’ve been to think he would ever hurt us, that he could be anything like the men that came before him.
I swallow hard, holding his head in my hands, making sure the next words come out right. “I’ve been yours since that night, whether I realized it or not. If you’re sure you want me-- want us…” I inhale sharply, willing my eyes to stay dry. “I want to be yours.”
A warm rumble comes from his chest. “You have me, baby. You’ve always had me.”
“Then show me what it’s like to be your girl.”
Jim sucks in a breath, eyes searching my face for only a second before crashing his lips against mine. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him into me so hard it could fuse our bodies together. He meets my urgency, pulling my legs around his back so he can lift me.
Then we’re up and stumbling towards the bedroom. Jim trips over some Legos and nearly drops me, our hushed laughs echoing through the otherwise quiet house. He presses my back against the wall, using the balance to hike me up higher in his arms, finding my lips again as we make our way down the hall to my bedroom.
He tosses me on the bed, and I’ve barely bounced before he covers my body with his.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
I smile into his kiss. “You see me all the time, weirdo.”
“You know what I mean. I missed this. Us. I missed the feel of your lips on mine, getting to touch your body, pull you against me. Your hair. Your freckles. Your goddamn attitude. All of you. I missed feeling like you were mine.”
“Me too,” I admit.
He pulls back, pausing for a second, his ear perked towards the door. I push up on my elbows, expecting to hear Jackson calling out for me when the ring of my phone sounds from the kitchen.
Jim pushes off of me, his eyes fixed on mine as he backs out of the room before turning to rush down the hall. I roll over to check the time on the clock, my stomach sinking low. No one calls me this late. Not unless it’s an emergency.
Jim’s back, chest rising and falling with exaggerated breaths as his palm comes out to hand me my phone. I look down at the phone being held out to me, recognizing the number crawling across the screen, and I freeze.
There have been two times in my life that I knew what would happen before the words were said.
When I was six years old, my birth mother packed a bag of clothes for my sister and I under the ruse that we were going on a vacation. She stopped at the county courthouse on our way out of town, led us up the steps and told me to sit with Marissa, to hold her hand, and not let go until she came back. She strutted down the steps towards the packed blue Volvo station wagon and the faceless man smoking a cigarette from the driver’s seat. She stood at the passenger door, her hand gripping the handle and turned to wave at me. “Stay with your sister, Meg. You take care of her, you hear?”
Even at six years old, I wasn’t dumb enough to believe she’d come back for us. I did exactly what she said and held onto my little sister’s hand until the wagon sputtered out of sight. Then I stood up, straightened the bow in Marissa’s hair, and marched us both into the courthouse for help.
