Feral. Sexy.
My cock is so hard it aches. I wrap my hand around it before I realize, groaning in relief as I squeeze the hard length. I won’t get any fucking sleep tonight unless I take care of this.
Jason’s image winks at me in my mind. He turns to face me, those dark eyes lined with black, lashes long and mouth soft. His mouth always looks soft, even when his eyes are angry.
Angry at me.
His anger sparks something in me, gets me harder. In my mind, he grabs the hem of his ridiculously short top, then smirks as he slowly drags it over his muscular chest and over his head.
Oh hell…
His dark hair is mussed, and he drags his tongue over his lower lip, tipping his head back. Hooking his thumbs in his pockets, he drags his pants lower over his hips.
Sinner, a familiar voice whispers in my ear. Sinner…
Hissing, I stroke harder, tugging painfully on my hard-on. Chasing the voice away. Fuck you, memory. I close my eyes, trying to focus on my image of Jason, but it’s slipping away, my aunt’s voice throwing me back to the past.
Back when I didn’t think I deserved any happiness, when I thought I was going to hell for wanting boys, caught between a constant blinding rage and the mortifying feeling I was the biggest freak in the carnival.
I still and blink at the far wall, my hard-on sagging.
Well, fuck.
I should stop thinking about Jason anyway. And it’s not the first time I tell myself that. I think of him often. Way too fucking often, and I need to get myself under control. I have too much resting on my shoulders right now, too much on my mind to obsess over that damn hooker.
That damn annoying, sexy hooker, because I should be more worried about work. Setting money aside. College, maybe, like Ocean keeps nagging me about. Stop working two jobs, find time for classes. Deal with my parents—the very same who strung my brother along with lies, sucking in his hard-earned money like parasites, until they up and left.
And now they’re back.
Rage warms me up from the inside, a burning blade that takes my attention off my desire for Jason. My parents deserve all my focus. I need to make sure they’re out of our lives for good.
Revenge, you might think? Getting back at them for the pain they inflicted on their children over the years? Nah, not worth the trouble.
But they are back and want more, and I won’t let them sink their claws into Ocean again. He’s too trusting. Too good.
Unlike me. I never trusted them, never expected them to pretend they cared. And I’ll take care of this, without involving my brother. My turn to look after him, have his back.
Which is another reason I wanna go to school, or at least manage to get a better-paying job to take the load of responsibility off his shoulders. He has a kid now. He should stop worrying about me.
And shouldn’t have to worry about our freaking parents at all.
I’ll make damn sure of that.
Chapter Two
Jason
I wake up cold, dark nightmare cobwebs clinging to my sweat-drenched skin.
It’s always like that, always damn cold, especially when I wake up in an unknown bed, an unfamiliar room, in the half-dark. My skin crawls. My head is pounding, and my mouth tastes like fear.
The other side of the bed is empty. Just me, then. The relief is undeniable, although seeing who brought me here would settle the mystery of where I am faster, and calm the frantic beat of my heart.
Pressing a hand to my naked chest, trying to contain the goddamn hammering, I push the covers off and take stock of my surroundings, trying desperately to remember what happened last night and where I washed up this time.
Just not the Club. God, please tell me it’s not the Club.
A bruise in my side makes me hiss as I swing my bare legs off the bed and stand unsteadily, the pounding in my head deafening. I can feel more bruises on my hips, on my legs.