I wanted him to want me. I needed it—got off on it.
But the teasing could only last so long.
And as I felt the orgasm build and build and build, I wondered why did it have to end? Why did it ever have to end?
I came in a wild, gasping, moaning puddle. I came on his fingers, in his mouth, and he grunted with pleasure and joy. I finished and lay there panting, sweating and breathless, as he licked me clean then sucked his fingers.
I pulled up my panties and he kissed my lips. I tasted myself—sweet and deep.
“I keep wanting to ask you something, but I don’t know how to say it.” I touched his face and felt slight stubble on his cheek.
“You can ask me anything.”
“I’m afraid you won’t take it well.”
“Now’s the time, baby girl, while I can still taste you.”
I chewed on my lip. “Are you holding back because you don’t want this to end?”
His lips quirked. “Would that be so bad?”
“I don’t know.” I felt my cheeks burning. I looked down. I never imagined Jarrod of all people would want more from me after he had the one thing that mattered—my virginity.
He tilted my chin up.
“I’ll admit that the thought occurred to me several times,” he said softly, and kissed my lips gently. “Once you’ve fulfilled your obligation to me, this can all be finished. You can walk away.”
“I might not want to.” I felt dizzy from the orgasm and from the words that came out next: “You could ask me not to.”
A complicated series of emotions flashed across his face. Excitement and desire—but also fear.
“You don’t know what you want. You’re high on that orgasm right now.”
“Yes, I definitely am, but I’m not incapacitated.”
“Then I didn’t do my job right.” He frowned and glanced down. “Better fix that.”
I brushed his hands away, smiling. “Listen to me. We’ve been through a lot in a short time and I feel like you know me better than anyone ever has, even Robyn.” She knew that something happened between me and my parents, but not the details—which meant Jarrod knew more than she did.
“I feel the same way about you, freak.” He kissed me again. “But you watched me murder a man. How could you want more from a monster like that?”
I felt a sudden onrush of desperation. “If you’re a monster and not worth loving, then the same applies to me.”
His eyebrows raised and I realized my mistake.
Loving.
I shouldn’t have said that word. It just came out—and made sense in the context, but it overstated how I felt.
Or did it?
Truth was, I’d never been in love before. I had no clue how it was supposed to feel. If TV and movies and songs and books were all right, then it should feel like a giddy, crazy, wild, speeding-train sort of rush headfirst into deep addiction.
More or less the way that I was feeling for Jarrod.
But he was right. I watched him kill a person. We were intimately bound together, our sin and sex mingled. Was I really falling for him, or was I just confused by the situation?
I almost regretted saying anything. If I hadn’t, then I never would’ve considered any of this.
If he heard that word and the same ideas flashed through his brain, he gave no indication. Instead, he only sighed and shook his head.
“You’re a lot better than I’ll ever be, freak. You wanted revenge for what he did to you. I plunged the knife into his throat so I could fuck you.”
“That’s not the only reason you did it.”
“I killed him because he deserved to die.”
“Then you’re not just some mindless murdering psychopath. You killed for a good reason. Are you going to run around and do it again?”
“I don’t think so,” he said softly, which wasn’t a no.
I let that hang in the air for a few seconds before he leaned back in his seat and sighed.
I looked out my window toward the house I grew up in. Clean navy shutters, trimmed bushes, cut grass. The trees were bare and skeletal, but in the spring, they’d sprout big leaves that bristled in the wind.
It was a tidy house. Clean and nice and cozy. It didn’t stand out, but it didn’t blend in, either.
Just like my parents. Just like my whole existence.
This thing with Jarrod, it was the first important decision I ever made. Before that night, I was a walking zombie, full of dreams and rage but otherwise worthless.
Now I felt as though I could be something more.
Was it so wrong then? Were we so lost?
“I don’t feel like I’m the same person I was when we first met.” I spoke quietly, as if someone might hear, or the words might run away. “Does that make any sense?”
“I completely understand.”
“So what we did, it can’t be that wrong. Dannis Silver deserved what he got. You’re not lost. I’m not either.”