Play Rough (Black Rose Kisses 2)

But… fuck.

Days like this make all of it so much more confusing. Not just the sex, but everything that came before.

Piper.

She’s Rory’s whole world, and I have to wonder what would happen if Rory got hurt or put in jail. If I help the Jackals take down the Black Roses, then that’s what could easily happen, right? Either he gets hurt in the fighting, maybe even killed, or the Black Roses lose their grip on Fairview Heights and the cops haul him off to prison for the things he’s done.

And then Piper would be without a dad, just like I am.

The thought makes something twist in my heart, and it’s not pleasant. I don’t want that for anyone else. Especially not Piper, sweet and still too young to really know anything other than the fact that her dad is her whole world. She’d still have Jen, but… but I’d know the reason why she wouldn’t have Rory to come over and pick her up and twirl her around the way she likes.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

I pull back a little from Rory, needing some space for a second, and he catches sight of the look on my face. I can only imagine I don’t look happy, and he frowns, clearly concerned.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I wish he’d stop doing that. I wish he’d stop caring so much and making it even harder than it needs to be to do this. Every time he looks at me with those worried eyes, I just want to tell him everything, and I can’t. I’m building a web of lies and deceit, and I miss being at the zoo where I didn’t have to think about anything too much. Where all of this seemed a lot further away.

I swallow and nod quickly, shutting down that line of thinking. If I want this to work, I just have to keep lying. I just have to go along with the plan I came up with and not let the feelings get to me.

“Yeah,” I tell him, clearing my throat. “I’m fine. I’m just… confused, I guess. About what’s happening between us. And the others, too.”

Something flashes across Rory’s face, and I wonder if it’s remorse.

“Shit. Did I push too far?” he asks, and he sounds more sincere than I’m used to hearing him. “I didn’t… that wasn’t the plan, Hurricane. I just got carried away. You might be able to tell, but I want you. Really badly.”

I think a blind person could tell at this point, and I shake my head, pushing away from him. He slides out of me with a wet sound, and there’s a second where my body feels lost for being empty all of a sudden.

I look down and see the mess that we left, his release mingled with my own wetness. Fuck. We didn’t even use a condom. Didn’t even stop to think that far ahead. I’m on birth control and have been since I turned fifteen, but that’s not the point.

Everything has spiraled so far out of control, and I feel like it’s all slipping out of my hands. My head is spinning, and my heart hurts. Whatever relief I might’ve gotten from the sex is long gone now, and I slide off the car, pulling my shirt down over my tits and hunting for my pants and underwear on the concrete floor of the garage.

“Mercy?” Rory asks, and I realize I never really answered him.

“No. You didn’t push too far,” I tell him, slipping my panties on and ignoring the way his cum is still sliding down my leg. “It’s not you, I promise. I just need some time to think.”

That part isn’t even a lie. I wanted him in that moment just as much as he wanted me, and I never told him to stop once. Everything he did was something I practically begged for, and while my head is a mess, my body still feels that bone deep satisfaction from a good orgasm. So no, he isn’t to blame for this. It’s just me getting carried away and forgetting all the things I’m actually supposed to be doing.

“Okay,” he says, nodding while he gets dressed as well. He drags his shirt back over his head last, cock already tucked away.

That worried look is still on his face, though. The one that says he still thinks I’m upset about something he did. For a second, I wonder if that’s better, but even if it is, I don’t like it.

I don’t want him to be worried or upset about this, especially since it’s not really his fault.

I close the distance between us and lean up, kissing him quickly. It’s softer and lighter than the kisses we’ve been sharing lately, and I don’t let it linger at all. It’s still pretty stupid to do it. Stupid to care about how he feels when I’m trying to hurt him even worse in the long run.

I can’t help myself, though.

The connection between us flares from the second our lips meet, and it’s still there when I pull back, the way it always is. It would be so easy to lean into it, to chase that first kiss with another and let myself get carried away all over again. We could go up to his room or mine and have a repeat performance of what happened on the hood of his car. We could take our time, really explore each other, or go at it hard and fast.

But no. No, that’s not a good idea, and I pull away from him before he can reach for me and try to kiss me again.

I have to put some distance between us until I get my head back on straight, so I give him one last little smile and slip away into the house.

13

Monday comes before I’m ready for it, but after the weekend I had, it’s almost a relief. I go to class the way I always do, but I feel like I can’t focus at all.