The Heartbreaker

“But you kissed her,” I whisper, hating the tears in my eyes. “I saw you kiss her.”

He nods, shutting his eyes briefly. “I thought we were over. I thought you wanted him.”

“You should have asked.” Now it’s my turn to step forward, to crowd his space. “You should have texted. You could have called.”

“You could have as well.”

“I was in pain. I . . . when I saw you kissing her, I felt like I was dying.”

“When I saw him touching you, I felt like I was dying.” He closes the distance between us, bringing a hand up to my face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I never . . . ” He shuts his eyes briefly again and swallows. When he opens them, the pain is as clear as the beat of my heart. “I hate knowing that I hurt you.”

I swallow, nodding.

“Will you forgive me?” his thumb grazes my cheek, a soft touch beneath his calloused finger.

“I don’t know.”

“Please, Jo. I swear I will do anything, everything, to show you I’m worthy of you.”

“Promises are just words,” I whisper. “I’ve heard so many promises, so many words.” I shrug.

“Not from me.” He leans in closer, kissing the corners of my eyes, the tip of my nose. “You’ve never heard them from me.” He pulls away. “Please.”

I shake my head, tears springing my eyes again, trickling down slowly. I want him so badly it hurts, I want to believe him and forgive him and forget about that video, but I see it playing in my head and I don’t know that I can. Even with that thought, I stand on the tips of my toes and kiss his mouth, soft and slow. Even as I question myself and my actions and what this will lead to, I lean into his touch, into his hands as they pull down my bodysuit, arch my back as his mouth finds my nipples. Soon, we’re fumbling fingers pulling our pants down and he’s hoisting me up against the wall, my back crashing against it as his mouth finds mine again.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says against my mouth. “Do you?”

“I’m on the pill.” I shake my head. “Clean. I checked after . . . ” I let my words trail. After Lawrence.

“I’ve never . . . ” He swallows, shutting his eyes as his fingers find my clit and I moan against him. He opens his eyes and looks at me, fingers still moving against my clit. “I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

“We don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He searches my eyes. “A bathroom at a brewery wasn’t what I envisioned for this, but I can’t wait another moment . . . ” He bites his lip, exhaling heavily as the tip of his cock teases my folds, throbbing against me, once, twice, before he thrusts inside me. I inhale sharply, gripping his shoulders, my head falling back against the tile of the wall.

He digs his fingers under my thighs as he fucks me, hard, fast, slowly, then fast again.

“Fuck. I’m not going to last.” He breathes against me, pushing his forehead against mine. “I won’t last, Jo.”

His words, the lack of restraint in which he says them, makes me come instantly. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, but when he pounds into me harder, growling in that way he does when he’s fired up, I find myself coming again and screaming out his name. He spills inside of me, a burst of warm liquid I’ve never felt like this, and when we both catch our breath and he sets me down ever so slowly, he turns around, gets a paper towel, wets it and brings it back over to me, placing it between my legs, against my throbbing clit.

“I love you, Jo. I mean that.” He pins me with his gaze. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to return the feeling if you don’t love me, but I will never stop, and I know words are just words, but mine aren’t. I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

“Like the fact that you wanted casual?” I raise an eyebrow as I wipe myself.

“Well, I had to reel you in somehow.” He grins as he gets dressed and waits for me to do the same. “If I’m being honest, I always wanted more than just casual with you. I still do. I always will. The question is, are you willing to give me a chance?”

“I—” The loud pounding on the door cuts off my sentence. My eyes widen. “Everyone out there is going to know what we were doing.”

“Who cares?” Jagger shrugs a shoulder. “We’re never going to see them again anyway.”

I toss the paper towel in the trash and wash my hands before taking a breath and following him out the door. Eric is standing there, looking between us.