AJ fought his clash of needs—the one to break her and the one to be broken. He wanted to punish her for refusing him … threatening him. Then there was the part of him that wanted her to lose her own control. The look in her eyes when she broke his flesh was intoxicating. It had become almost as addictive to him as it was to her. Those thoughts weren’t his, but they were in his head. He didn’t know how they got there, or what they would end up doing to him, but they demanded his attention. The nagging, the taunting … he wanted to shoot them, slide a knife along their throat, or blow them up, but they were too elusive.
“Nails…” her voice broke and she finished with a whisper “…or teeth?” She closed her eyes and swallowed.
AJ gritted his teeth, feeling that familiar tick in his jaw. He never pushed to know why Jillian was so messed-up. Not knowing took away accountability, and he didn’t want to feel responsible for fixing her. If he couldn’t fix himself, there was no way he could fix anyone else. But she had this need and the regret in her face proved that it wasn’t a choice she was making. She was powerless to it.
His eyes drifted to the candles and soap bottles along the ledge of the tub. “Why not your razor?”
Jillian’s eyes snapped open. “Never with a blade! Understood?”
He didn’t … he didn’t understand any of it. But when he saw a tear trail down her cheek, it didn’t matter. AJ tore off the condom and tossed it in the trash then sank into the water. He pulled her to him so her back leaned against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head.
“Don’t hate me for not asking why,” he whispered, feeling like a coward.
Jillian nodded.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jillian closed her eyes then opened them, over and over again. They were on springs loaded with anxiety and just wouldn’t stay shut. The man showed complete detachment and restraint from prying into her behavioral issues, then crawled in bed with her. No sex. No banter. Just the simple offering of his warm body next to hers.
“You’re not going to sleep are you?” He flattened his palm to her belly and drew her even closer. “You don’t want me to stay.”
Jillian wiggled in his arms until she was turned facing him. She kissed his neck. “I do want you to stay.”
“But you’re not going to sleep and it’s already almost two in the morning.”
“I’ll go sleep on the couch, then come back in with you after I get a few hours of sleep.”
AJ mumbled a few indecipherable words as he released Jillian and rolled to his back. “I’m not sleeping alone in your bed while you go sleep on the couch. That’s too fucked-up … even for me.” He circled his fingers over his temples. “You don’t trust me.”
Jillian sat up and straddled him, feeling him instantly grow hard between her legs. “I don’t trust myself.”
He grabbed her hips and slid her back and forth along his shaft. “You can’t hurt me.”
She closed her eyes and moved her left hand down her belly, pressing her fingers over his until he took the hint and started massaging her clitoris.
He rocked his hips up into her allowing his erection to slide against her wet sex. “You like this?” His voice was deep and growing thicker with each word.
“God … yes.” She felt so sleepy and equally as turned on. It may have been the spell cast by the early morning hour, or her body reaching its point of exhaustion, but she fell victim to his touch that felt like the whisper of a dream. “Please …”
“Please what?” he stilled his hips and slipped two fingers inside her.
“Don’t … stop.” She reached for his erection but he grabbed her hand.
“It’s just for you.” He moved her hand to meet his, both of them stimulating her sex. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
She rocked into his hand, wet with arousal. He slid a third finger in as she moaned, her muscles clenching him tight.
“That feels … good … so good …”
“Show me, sexy. Show me how good.” He slid his hand up her chest and circled her nipple with the pad of his thumb, syncing to the rhythm of his other thumb against her clit.
An orgasm seized her body, sending uncontrolled spasms so deep she felt them shake her bones. Her brain fogged like a night after Heineken, but her body spasmed with pleasure that came in waves until she collapsed on his chest. After a few minutes of AJ tracing circles on her back, she yawned and closed her eyes—for hours.
Jillian dreamed of her boys and her brother. She saw her parents alive for the last time and her friend’s body mutilated and tossed aside like a piece of trash. Then she saw Four and his dark buzzed hair, hazel eyes, and perfect teeth. He was by all accounts sexy and alluring, especially in his combat fatigues. The Ted Bundy type that could manipulate girls into driving for hours to meet him. The kind that lived in a neighborhood of poverty but came from wealth and had a message to send to the world. He was the black sheep, the one that would never amount to anything. But he became more famous than anyone else in his affluent family … he died a serial killer. He left his mark and he left it in blood.