Hurt Like HELL (new adult contemporary romance) (15 page)

"I told you.  I had to check on someone."

"Who?"

He finally said it.  "Your father."

"Jack, I'm so sorry."  I couldn't imagine what it would be like to face your murderer.

"Don't be," he said.  "I just had to see it with my eyes."

"So he's..."

Jack nodded.

I knew my father was out of prison but Jack had seen it.

I shivered in fear, turning my head, not wanting Jack to see it.

He did.

"What can I do?" he asked me.

I looked at him, trying to hide the tears.

"Hold me.  Watch me."

I stopped when I wanted to add 'love me'...

"Okay then, that's what I'll do."

And that's what Jack did.

He held me.

He walked me to the couch and that's where I slept.  I wanted to keep my eyes forever because as I fell asleep I believed that I was going to wake up to an empty apartment.

This was all just a really good, vivid dream.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

My heart told me otherwise.

~5~

I woke with my legs somehow wrapped around the mess of a heavy comforter. 
My face was towards the couch and I caught myself slowly moving my nose along the cloth of the couch, wishing it was Jack’s nose.  I pictured such an intimate moment, waking to see him staring at me, both of us saying good morning, tasting our wicked morning breaths, and then kissing.

And trust me, that was the mildest thought that went through my mind over the course of the night.

Jack had a hold on me, always had, but seeing him fueled it back to where it once had been.  Of course the difference now was that my age came with knowledge.  When I was thirteen, it was just feelings.  Now I understood what my sexual desires were and what my body wanted and needed. 

I sat up and pulled the tangled comforter off my body.  My body was still sore from the accident but felt ten times better than waking up in the hospital.  Nobody picking and poking at me, asking me questions, bothering me.  And... no Auntie B.  As much as I loved her, I had grown accustomed to being on my own.  Even with her visiting in the hospital, it brought back the memories of her tight hold on me.  I would never discount it nor speak of it because the woman raised me and only protected me so much out of love.

Speaking of protection, and love...

I spread my hands out on the couch and sighed.

I looked down, letting my hair fall into my face.  I stared down the hollow tunnel of blonde messy hair to my feet, looking at my second toes as they came just little past my fat big toes.  There were so many things about myself I would have liked to change, but wasn’t that all women?  And people even? 

Right then, the only thing I wanted to really change was the fact that I sat alone on the couch.

My heart racing.

My body on fire.

My most sensitive spots aching and longing for Jack.

I tried, even for a moment, to let myself down easy.  Telling myself that Jack was just a boy... he was sixteen when it all happened... and that I watched him... saw him... his eyes... his breath... his...

“She finally wakes.”

I threw my head back and gasped.

I thought about the apartment. 

Had I locked it?

Who was in here?

It was a man’s voice, not a woman’s.

Jack.

He was standing in the same clothes from the night before, looking alive, well, and really,
really
hot.  He was groggy, his eyes tired from just waking up too, his hair a little more messy.   He held a glass of orange juice and walked towards me.

I was in shock, again.

None of it had been a dream.

“I’m really here,” Jack said, sensing my surprise.

“I can see that,” I said.

He handed me the orange juice.  I drank it.

“You don’t grocery shop, do you?”

I half smiled as  my cheeks turned red. 

My gosh, I couldn’t help myself.
 I never got like that... I never got embarrassed or flushed around anyone...

“In case you didn’t hear, I was in an accident.”

“Oh no, are you okay?”

He was sexy, and a smartass.  A lethal combination. 

Yikes.

“I was going to make you breakfast,” Jack said, “but I can’t.  So how about I take you out?”

“Take me out?  Really?  You can...”

Jack laughed.  “What do you think is going to happen?  People won’t see me?  That when I lift a fork, it’ll just appear to be floating to other people?”

Probably.

Would it be the worst thing if I admitted that’s exactly what I thought?  I didn’t admit a thing to Jack but rather turned my attention to my orange juice.  It tasted a little bitter, reaching close to its expiration date.  After two sips, I was done.  I put the glass on the table and stood up.  To get to my bedroom, I’d have to get by Jack.

“Let me get ready, real quick,” I said.

“You look beautiful just like that,” he said, holding his ground.

Beautiful.

Wow, me... beautiful.

His hands were back into fists, his right hand trying to come forward, and I hoped he would touch me.

“You look handsome,” I said, regretting it.

Handsome?

Who says that?

“I didn’t sleep much,” Jack said.

I wanted to ask why but something told me I wouldn’t get an answer.

“I still need to get to my room,” I said.

“You can back up, walk around the table.”

Defiant.  Hot.  I wanted him.

I wanted him to lift and carry me to my bedroom.

“Or you could just move out of my way,” I said.

I could be defiant too. 

I put a hand on my hip, prepared to stand there as long as I had to.  I was not moving.  Either way I’d win.  Either Jack would move me, thus touching me, or he’d give in and get out the way.  It was such a silly, dumb teenage flirty thing we were doing but it meant something to me.

“Move me then.”

“Move you?” I asked.

“Yeah.  Move me.”

Jack folded his arms.  When he looked at me, he didn’t look at peace, not by a long shot.  His eyes were filled with something for me, but I couldn’t tell what it was. 

So I played into his game.  I grabbed his arms, feeling the curves of his biceps and tried to keep my body from melting right at his feet. 

I pushed and Jack barely moved.

I dug my nails, not too hard, but hard enough, and pushed again.  His body moved but not his feet.  He yawned, playing the smartass card again, and rolled his eyes.

“I just woke up,” I said.  “And I was in an accident.”

“That’s nice.”

I grunted and pushed again.

Nothing.

I stepped back, feeling sexy and annoyed, and ran at Jack.  I don’t know why but I wrapped my arms around him, hoping my weight would force him to move. 

Not a chance.

I couldn’t even lock my fingers together around Jack with his arms folded.  When my chest pressed against his arms, I felt fluttering in so many places at once I had to jump back.  Jack did what he did best, other than command the room and my heart; he smiled.  A cocky smile.  A
come get me
kind of smile that maybe had been designed to get into my pants but all it did was get on my nerves. 

I had one last move, my absolute last resort, something I knew would shock him as much as it would shock me.  I charged again and left my feet this time. 

When Jack saw me jump, his face lit up and he had to open his arms.  He had to catch me, if he wanted to protect me.  I opened my arms and legs and hit his body.  In my mind it was going to be such a wild, sexually laced move.  I’d hit him, wrap my arms and legs around him and then he’d hold me.  With my tight grip on him, he’d have no choice but to respond by taking me to my bedroom and showing me just what he was really capable of doing to me.

That was fantasy...

In reality, I hit Jack, couldn’t grab him, and he couldn’t grab me.  I basically bounced off his hard muscles, making him grunt, and then I was down to floor, crashing to my ass with a hard thud that shot pain up and down my back.

I cried out and Jack fell to his knees before me.

The man, the protector.

My legs were out and open, my hands on the floor holding me up.  I knew how sexy I had to have looked right then and I wasn’t afraid of it.

“What the hell, Tessa?” Jack said. 

Oh, his voice was so deep and hot. 

Such a worrier.

“I wanted to get by,” I said and batted my eyes, trying to look innocent.

“You’re crazy sometimes,” he said.  “And not in a good way.”

“Is that so?”

Jack opened his mouth to say something else but nothing came out.  Slowly, he put his fists to the floor, hovering over me right below my waist.

Ohmygosh
was the only reaction my body and mind could muster.

He looked at my body, where my pants pulled a little too tight, and where my t-shirt began.  Being in the position I was, my shirt had pulled up a little more than I should have been comfortable with, but Jack’s eyes weren’t there very long.  He took his time looking up my body and when he met my eyes, my reaction changed.

Ohmygosh
became
holyshit
.

His eyes had changed.  Jack had intentions and he was losing the battle with himself to not touch me.  Then, without speaking a word, because there no point in anymore talking, Jack made another move at me.  I was in an even more vulnerable position, on the floor, Jack on me.  As our lips touched, his mouth opened and our tongues met.  Each time felt better than the one before.  Kiss after kiss started to come and I wasn’t able to keep up with his pace.  By the time I tried to close my mouth on his lips, he was opening his mouth, kissing me again.  His breathing grew and my face was flooded with his warm breath. 

My hands dug at the carpet, wanting to grab Jack. 

My breathing sounded jumpy, my heart and nerves were racing. 

Then I felt his hand touch my hip.  His thumb dug and played with my hipbone, a spot that I never knew would feel like it did being touched.  His strength was as intense as his stare.  We looked at each other and I could see his eyes wanting to flutter, wanting to speak to me in ways he couldn’t.  Just knowing that was enough for me to understand all I needed in that moment. 

Jack’s hand started to travel.  When he touched my side, my bare skin, I shuddered and moaned. It was a loud moan, sort of embarrassing considering the mildness of the touch.  But it’s what the touch implied...

Holyshit.

Jack wasn’t done there.  His fingers wiggled, tickling me for a second, as he worked his hand under my shirt.  That’s when I gasped for air, prompting him to pause.

“Tessa...”

“No, go,” I whispered.

“Go...?”

“No.  I mean... don’t go.  Don’t stop.  Just fucking kiss me.  And touch me.”

How was that for to the point?

Jack kissed me, gently, and pulled back again. 

I groaned.

“If you aren’t sure...”

“Don’t ask because it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not asking because of you, I’m asking because of me.”

“Why?”

“Because...”  His hand inched up my shirt.  “When this starts” - his hand moved to my stomach, his fingers spread, going up - “I can’t and won’t” - his fingertips touched the bottom of my bra - “stop...”

His mouth met mine again as his hand slid over my bra, over my breast, and he squeezed.

It was unbelievable, and it felt so good. 

I felt my heart pounding like I never had before.  I kissed him hard, trying to take control to force Jack to move faster.  I was ready, even on the living room floor of my apartment. 

He enjoyed himself, touching me, pleasuring me with his strong hand.  His fingertips started to curl, grabbing the top of my bra.  I imagined him pulling, exposing my bare breast to his hand.

Yes.

Please, Jack, yes.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he opened his mouth and groaned.  He closed his eyes and squeezed them tight.  His hand moved down off my breast, back to my stomach and then side.  He held tight.

I reached for one of his belt loops.  I pulled as hard as I could, forcing Jack forward.  When he came down at me, I lifted my lower half.  He touched me and just knowing that his body reacted the way I wanted it to made me reach a climatic level of pleasure that had been somewhat unknown to me.