I can't give her that…but I can lend her the strength of a retired SEAL. The heart of one, too, if she'll have it. She'll never have to carry a goddamn thing, grieve, or hurt alone, ever again. When she can't carry it, I'll carry her.
"Thank you for telling me," I murmur, kissing her softly. I don't have to ask to know she's never told anyone. If she had, Olive would know. The fact that she doesn't tells me everything I need to know.
Sarah falls into me, letting me ground her with my lips on hers.
When I pull away, the ghosts of her past don't linger in her eyes. The only thing there is heat and the same softness that wrecked me last night.
"You still coming to my place tonight?" I ask her.
"Do you still want me to?"
I tip her head back with my hand fisted in her hair, making her groan. "Yes, I want you. I need you coming on Daddy's cock again, baby girl. I might fucking die if you aren't."
"We can't have that," she breathes.
"No, we can't. Call me when you're off, and I'll start dinner."
"Okay." Her lips curve into my favorite sweet smile. "Bye, Jasper."
"Have fun at Dirty Book Club, baby girl."
Chapter Eight
Sarah
Olive is acting weird, which honestly wouldn't be that abnormal because weird is her permanent state of existence, except she hasn't asked me about my date a single time.
I'm not sure if that means she knows what happened with Alex, if it means she knows what's happening between me andJasper, or if she's simply busy plotting the next disaster she's going to drag me into. Either way, I'm nervous.
By the time Dirty Book Club starts, I'm sweating bullets.
"We're gathered here today," Jazz says, stepping into the middle of the reading area with a wicked smirk, "to discussSpankotron 3000."
"Where does she find these?" Loralei, the town librarian, groans beside me, shaking her head.
"Don't ask," I whisper. "Her greatest joy in life is finding the most unhinged smut she can and spreading it through town like a porn fairy."
Loralei giggles, clamping a hand over her mouth when Jazz whips around to look at her.
"Does anyone want to get us started?"
Loralei frantically shakes her head, trying to hide behind me.
"I will," Mrs. Dixon says, primly adjusting her skirt. "I'd like to know where to get me one of these Spankotron machines."
A chorus of agreement goes up from several of the other members of the club, earning a hysterical giggle from Loralei.
"I bet I could make one," Olive says, skimming through the book. "I mean, I don't know how to turn it into a man, but I could make one that does the spanking parts."
"Really?" Mrs. Dixon looks intrigued by the idea. "And you think it could do…all of that?" She fans the book for emphasis.
"I mean…yeah?" Olive shrugs. "They make all kinds of sex machines. Why not one that spanks your ass and pulls your hair while you ride it off into the sunset?"
"Jesus Christ," Loralei hides her face in her hands, her body shaking with laughter. "We're never meeting at the library. I'll be fired on the spot."
"You should give it a try, dear," Mrs. Braithewaite encourages Olive, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Women ought to have options, you know."
"I agree!" Jazz cries, shooting a triumphant look at Lilah, who pretends not to see it.
