But then she says, “I’m glad you got your mom out of that situation.”
And instead of shrinking away from me, she wraps her other hand around the one she’s already holding and pulls it to her chest. “But you shouldn’t have had to do that. That’s why I’m running. So that my child never has to do that. He or she deserves a mother who won’t ever put them in that situation. So I can’t be weak anymore. I’ve got to be strong.”
Her words crack something open in my chest. And I stare at her in the dark. This woman who is doing the exact opposite of what my mother did.
The urge to kiss her…it’s near to overpowering. It doesn’t matter that I can’t see her. I can feel her. Feel her determination. Feel her non-judgment. Feel her heart beating fast but steady against my arm.
What would it be like to fill her belly with my kid? To give someone the childhood I never got? Like Nico said…
Fuck, what am I thinking? I’m going to do something I regret if I don’t give her my back.
I abruptly pull my hand away from hers and flip over on my side. Facing the door, not her.
“Go to sleep,” I bark.
“Okay,” she agrees.
But she keeps flipping and flopping. Never staying in one position long enough for me to settle.
“What part of go to sleep don’t you understand?”
“Sorry,” she repeats. “I just…”
Instead of finishing that sentence, she twists in bed again. This time on her left arm. I know, because I can feel her butt against my back. Holy fuck, it should be against the law for anybody as beautiful as her to have an ass like that. It feels unfair to other girls. Did God have to bestow her with all the gifts?
The sudden bump of her elbow jolts me. “Hey!”
“Sorry,” she says again. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I’ll stop moving.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
We lie there quietly. And I purposefully even out my breath. No way I’m getting any sleep with this hard on, but maybe she’ll take the cue and actually fall asleep herself. Stop squirming.
She lies very, very still. But I notice her breath hasn’t evened out. And after about twenty minutes of pretend sleep, I hear a strange sound.
“What are you doing?”
She jerks. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit, it’s nothing.”
I flip back over and grab the arm that bumped me. Suddenly suspicious.
I sniff. And sure enough, her hand, more specifically her fingers—they smell like pussy.
“You’re masturbating? What the hell?”
GINA
I swallow. Remembering the one time Tommy had caught me doing this in the middle of the night. He never gave me a chance to answer. He called me all kinds of slut and demanded to know who I was thinking about. Then backhanded me for lying when I told him I was just trying to relax. I only dared to do it when he wasn’t home after that.
But there’s no shower here. And Jeb’s waiting with my wrist in a vice grip like he expects a full explanation.
I have never in my life felt so embarrassed.
“I…I was just trying to do what you told me. I was trying to get to sleep. But I couldn’t because…I guess my body is weirdly primed now. Used to a lot of sex.”
A hard beat of silence. Then, “Are you trying to make me fuck you?”
“No, obviously just the opposite. I know you don’t want me like that, so I was just going to take care of myself—”
His kiss slams into me like a train. And my back hits the wall.
He pins my arms above my head. And there’s no warning. No playful or sweet talk. Just Jeb thrusting into my prone body. Filling me up. Grunting like an animal as he fucks me against the wall.
He’s not as big as Nico. Or as perfect and smooth as Mitch. He’s hair and beard, scraping against my sensitive skin, and punishment driving into my pussy. And I’m utterly unable to find the dignity to save myself from his onslaught.
“Jeb! Jeb!” I call out his name, my voice thin and helpless, as I explode on his dick.
“Did you just come? Did you just come all over my dick? Without permission?” His voice is coarse. Rough.
And I nod helplessly. So ashamed. “I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to come.”
“You didn’t know,” he repeats. Then he sounds almost gleeful as he says, “Well, little girl, you’re going to learn today.”
Chapter Fifteen
NICO
The plan was to give Jeb three hours with Goldie. Just three hours. But I’m having second thoughts before the first one’s even done.
“How about if they really needed to pee?” I ask Mitch.
We’re upstairs, hanging drywall, and Mitch doesn’t even bother to look up from his task to answer, “Then we apologize real nice and clean her up if she couldn’t hold it.”