But I’m still somewhat speechless that my ex boyfriend can talk so casually about killing someone. I know he’s done it before, but still. I truly believe him when he says that, and I don’t know how to feel about it. His life is so horrible compared to the peaceful one I’ve built for myself.We’re opposites in a tragic kind of way.
“What about when you have to do shows?” I ask quietly. “I know she’s always with you, and that happens.”
He exhales through his nose. “I just won’t allow meth near me. I’ll only do heroin.”
My jaw drops, and I struggle to respond, my mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Meth makes me viciously horny...even when I don’t necessarily want to be,” he mutters, almost sounding embarrassed. His eyes snap up to mine. “My body is useless on heroin. It’s why she was so pissed last time. We didn’tactuallyhave sex. She just...she just ground on me. And used my fingers. But I couldn’t really move. I was honestly nodding out for most of it.”
Nausea claws up my throat, my eyes burning at the fact that the love of my life has to endure sexual assault and I can’t really do anything. My hands are tied, andI can’t do anything.
“Oh,” is all I can manage through the tightness in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” he drags a hand down his face. “I don’t...we don’t have to talk about this.”
“It’s okay,” I reply swiftly. “I’m sorry. It’s crazy because...I’m used to having difficult discussions and learning about the most horrific traumas with my patients. But hearing yours…” My throat threatens to close. “It hurts. Especially because my hands are tied. Iat least have legal resources with my patients if someone is abusing them.”
“You can’t get the police involved,” he says flatly, his gaze dropping to the floor.
I bite my bottom lip, hesitation twisting. “I…I know it might’ve felt like I’ve been treating you like a patient,” I admit, voice soft. “But it’s the only way I’ve been able to…manage all of this. To survive it. Seeing you like this—it’s breaking my heart, Jude.”
He reaches forward, thumb brushing my knee. “I know, baby. I understand that.”
“Forgive me?”
“Of course, Emma. You’ve been amazing through all of this.”
I inhale deeply before I continue. “I need to meet with Rook. You have to set it up. Please.”
He swallows, the motion tight and visible. “I don’t think—”
“I know you killed his brother,” I interrupt, emotions threading through my voice. “But Jude…I think I can get him to help. If this could be our only shot at wiping out what Nolan has on you, I have to try.”
Sadness flickers across his eyes for a heartbeat before he masks it with that controlled calm that he's so good at.
Then, before I can say anything more, he leans in. His lips find mine, the kiss deep and immediate, tongue brushing mine with a sharp, sweet taste of red berries. He lifts me effortlessly, and my legs tighten instinctively around his waist. I don’t argue as he sinks onto the couch, my body settling into his lap. I should try to talk more to him. But I’m a slave to his lips, his body, his soul.
I bite back a moan as his hands slide beneath my shirt, tracing my ribs, thumbs brushing over the small of my back. My fingers curl into his black tee, tugging him closer, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. I try to think of something to say, to ask, but his mouth moves against mine, silencing me completely. Maybe that’s his plan. Maybe he’s trying to get me to shut up. My thoughts scatter, leaving only the desperate, aching need for him. I can’t get enough of him when we were robbed of so much time together. It isn’t fair.
I grind down, and the hard ridge of his arousal strains against the thick denim of his jeans. A low, guttural groan vibrates against my mouth, and I swallow it, kissing him deeper.This.This is the only language we need right now. The one that lets us forget the thorny, complicated hell waiting for us outside this quiet living room. Even if I want to talk…I can’t resist this. He’s everything.
His hands slide down, gripping my ass through my yoga pants. He lifts his hips, meeting my grind with one of his own, a sharp, upward thrust that makes me whimper into his mouth. The air in my house is quiet, the only sounds are our ragged breathing and the faint, rhythmic crash of the ocean through a cracked window.
My fingers tighten in his hair, and I hear the sharp, metallicclickof his belt buckle, followed by the rasp of his zipper. I break the kiss, scrambling off his lap just long enough to pull my top over my head and shove my pants down my legs, kicking them blindly into the dim room.
His hazel eyes darken, drinking me in. He yanks his shirt off, the muscles in his chest and arms shifting under the intricate patterns of his tattoos. He’s all lean strength and tension. I climb back onto him and straddle his hips. He moves to slide his hand between us, his fingers seeking to prepare me. But I catch his wrist.
“No.”
He stills, his head tilting, a silent question in his heavy-lidded, lustful gaze.Why?He’s huge, and I usually need the slow, careful way he opens me up with his fingers. But not tonight. The frantic need clawing inside me won’t allow for patience. I feel like the more he’s inside me, the more he’ll want to stay. To try and survive this.
“I just…I just need you.” I lean in, capturing his mouth again in a searing kiss, my tongue sliding against his. I reach between us, my fingers fumbling with his jeans. I free his cock, and nearly sob at how wild I am for him.
“Baby, I’m probably going to need to get you ready—”
Ignoring him, I sink down, a sharp, gasping breath catching in my throat.Oh, god.The stretch is immediate, intense, a hot flare of pleasure-pain that makes my eyes water. I feel myself accommodating his thick length inch by inch. I bury my face inthe crook of his neck, my teeth grazing his skin as I work him deeper inside me.
“Oh,fuck, Em,” he groans, his voice ragged, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips hard enough to leave marks. “God,baby,you’re so fucking tight. How are you doing this?” he laughs.
