When he asked how Jay day was, she said, “Fine,” with a subdued caginess that reminded him of those first few days following her return, when every one of her responses had felt forced. It seemed engineered to provoke him and it very nearly did, but his triumph over Michael made him feel generous.
Today had been a pyrrhic victory. He was not going to lose it all now by fighting in the car.
As soon as they were over the threshold and the front door was closed, he walked her down the hall, tossing his keys into one of the decorative bowls on the credenza before taking her face in his hands. “Tell me what’s wrong. I know something is.”
She gave him a weary look. “You can’t fix everything.”
I can, actually, he thought, but he knew she wouldn’t want to hear that.
Jay tensed when he kissed her and then her shoulders dropped into complacency when he fished out the condom he now always kept in his wallet. The kissing became purposeful as he began undoing her blouse, fumbling the small buttons until she took his hands away and did it herself with an efficiency he found both seductive and beguiling.
“Nick—”
But he didn’t let her finish. He hitched her up over his knee and yanked aside everything in his way, spearing her against the side of the rightmost staircase and fucking her rhythmically against the wall. There would be marks. He was being careless, kissing her too hard.
(That’s how I want it)
“Oh,” she breathed out, head back, eyes closed. “Oh god.”
“That’s it.” He slid a hand behind her head, to cushion it from the wall. “Fuck me. Give me everything.”
You can’t imagine . . . all the different ways I’ve fucked you in my head.
Jay cried out softly, reaching between them to massage her clit as he covered her mouth again with his own. The urgency of it reminded him of when they were younger, and they’d had to be quick to avoid being caught. Jeans could be pulled down, and sweaters pulled up, both of them so close that he wouldn’t have to hold back his own pleasure when she submitted to him so beautifully the way she always did, as if they were fighting a war that she knew she’d already lost.
If you only knew the things I’d do for you.
The papers from Michael’s lawyer came the next morning. Express delivery, which amused him. The little fuck must have been really running scared.
That was one problem fixed but the troubled look hadn’t left her face, and he’d seen the wary looks she cast about the workplace and suspected he knew the cause for it. But if he’d told her what he’d done, she would be angry. If he pressed her, she’d be angrier still.
So he kept his silence, but he watched and wondered. And he planned.
Meanwhile, the days continued to drop away like dead flies until finally it was the night before she’d leave for the city. He had ordered dinner but the conversation was stilted, broken up harshly by the clink of silverware on china. Every time their words petered out, her eyes would drift towards something in the distance that he couldn’t see, and she’d toy with the necklace around her throat, worrying the ring that should have made her his.
(She said there was nothing left for her here)
A cold chill gripped him. He pushed back his mostly-uneaten plate and the scrape of the plate on the wood seemed to jolt her from wherever she was as she looked at him the way he imagined someone might look at a wild beast in the woods.
It made his voice harder than he wanted when he said, “I want you in my room tonight.”
Her eyebrows scrunched together. “Wow, okay. Should I bother getting dressed? Or would clothes be too inconvenient for you when you push me up against the wall?”
“I just want to see you before you leave. It’s hardly the rape of the fucking Sabines.” The look on her face became pained and a hot lump wedged itself into his throat.Fuck.“It’s up to you,” he said, angry with himself now. “Come or don’t.”
She stared at him. Several expressions flashed over her face in sequence, too quick to read. Then she nodded, and the silence between them swelled until she’d gotten up from the table and disappeared. Packing, he assumed, as he went to bed with his laptop. Telling himself he was going to work but really, he was straining for the sounds of her footsteps.
When he heard the stealthy creak outside his door, he closed his computer and set it down on the floor beside the nightstand, tugging off his T-shirt in anticipation. He’d been waiting for her but his breath still caught at the first swish of her skirt before the rest of her followed.
“I want to kiss for a little while.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Can we do that?”
“Yes,” he said hoarsely.
He’d kiss the air from both their lungs if it meant that she’d belong to him and him alone.
The sharp edges of the little jeweled bird pricked at his fingers as he turned the small ring over to study it in the waxing light while Jay slept. He could just make out the engraving inside and wondered if she’d seen it yet. With a sigh, he let the ring drop back onto her breasts.
She had belonged to him long before the rest of their town had staked its claim on her. Before her smiles for him had slowly last their warmth, he had truly believed that she could do no wrong.
