Page 95 of Hiding from Hope

“Didn’t want your ass to get wet.”

“I meant in here, Jess. We could get caught.”

“I locked the door,” he grunts. His tone, those dark eyes, and deep frown, so at odds with the soft soul I’ve spent the last few months learning and loving. He’s all animal, the darkness, madness, and rage. I’m sure a therapist would have some things to say about the way I find this so incredibly hot, but I don’t much care.

“You drive me fucking mental, stella mea,” he grinds out as he trails his teeth down my neck. My fingers grip in his hair and I moan as he latches on to my shoulder with his teeth.

“Jessie,” I breathe.

“I’m fucking pissed at you,” he says, his face furious when he pulls back but slams his lips to mine. An embarrassingly weak whimper leaves my lips, and his fingers have the hem of my dress pushed up to my hips and teasing the inside of my thighs. “But I also want to thank you. For today. For the shop.”

That’s what this is. It suddenly makes sense. He isn’t here to have me back. He is here to thank me for today, despite the fact it was the least I could do, that is all this means. And right now, in this bathroom? It’s just attraction. Maybe he couldn’t fight that, but he is still mad and this is probably going to be the end.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, I’m so sor—”

“No.” He shuts me up with lips, his tongue and his teeth, dragging my bottom lip as he moves to my jaw, behind my ear, my neck, and my collarbone. “We can talk about that later. Right now, I just want to devour you.” His fingers find the edge of my thong, slipping it to the side, and I gasp as his thumb finds my peak in less than a second. “This. Fucking. Dress,” he grinds out, trailing a delicate finger through my middle.

“Jessie, please,” I beg, so desperate for him to surround me, fill me. Exist nowhere but right here with me.

“So fucking wet for me.” He slides one finger in and mutters a curse, using his free hand to lower the straps of my dress. “And this blue? My new favorite color.” My breasts slip out with ease, and he takes one into his mouth, letting it go with a pop while slipping his finger deeper inside me. “We have one fight, and you think I’d let someone else touch what’s mine?” he growls, his finger curling upward, spearing me at a dizzyingly slow pace. I can barely hold it together to keep my eyes open, let alone understand any of his words.

“I’m so sorry,” I whimper, and I almost squeal when he adds a second finger, his pace picking up to an almost punishing speed, and he has to steal the moan from my lips. His tongue demands entrance, and when I open for him, his free hand grips the front of my neck and lightly squeezes to hold me in place. His fingers work me until I’m barely able to tell what year it is. The edges of my vision blur as his grip tightens, and I feel myself become impossibly wetter.

“Jessie, please, holy fuck,” I whisper through his grip on my throat.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he grumbles and kisses me again, his tongue drags the length of my neck to the tips of each of my breasts, and when I feel myself grip his fingers ready to fall off the edge, they pause.

He burns me with the intensity of his eyes. They swim with so many unspoken words, so much ice-blue rage, and I can’t help but drop a tear. I feel my heart fill with so much love for every facet of Jessie, all the while it falls into pieces at the meaning of us right now. This feels painfully like… goodbye.

“You seem to have forgotten whose pretty little cunt this is.” The taunt is downright demeaning and also, somehow, the single hottest thing he’s ever said.

My body hums with need, between the heartache, the orgasm on the precipice, and the way I feel him so deep, I can confidently say there isn’t a single person in this world who owns every part of me the way Jessie Jenkins does. “It’s always been yours.” I struggle to hold back the sob.

In a single breath, his fingers leave me, the button of his jeans is flicked, and he pulls them down enough to unsheathe himself from his boxers. In the next breath, he grips his coat under my ass and yanks me forward, his cock landing perfectly between my legs, stealing the gasp from my mouth with his.

He drives into me with haste, not missing a beat, and when my head falls back from the intensity of the orgasm curling inside me, he grips the back of my head, forcing my eyes on him. The blue of them shines as they bleed his pain, the pain I put there.

“Fuck,” I breathe, and his lips tip up in the corners. A smirk of satisfaction has tears welling up in my eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull my chest flush with his, completely unable to bear the distance between us any longer. I need to feel the firmness of his body and the warmth of his skin just one more time. I need him to know, “I love you so much, Jessie,” I state breathlessly, feeling his grip move to my ass, holding me in place while he fucks. Turning into the savage I asked for that first time. I lose the battle on my tears, and then my orgasm, as it rips through at the increase in his pace.

“Yes, shit. Fuck! Ace. Your pussy is fucking magic,” he growls, and with a few more punishing thrusts, he comes right along with me.

Like he has done every time, Jessie leaves little kisses across my shoulder, up my neck, and eventually finding my lips, as he pulls out of me silently. When I find the nerve to meet his gaze, his dark eyes scan every inch of me as he fixes himself in his pants. He helps me to my feet, fixes my dress, and pats down my hair, leaning in to leave a longing kiss to my forehead. The final punch to the gut. The seal to our ending. I can’t help but drop another tear and feel as though my heart is being removed from my body. He may have claimed me as his in the most primal way, but I know in my heart and in his eyes, I am no longer his in the way that matters I don’t deserve him and I am certainly not going to make him suffer by staying.

Jessie

Casey is a giggling mess as I haul her into my apartment. My arm around her to keep her upright as her ankles battle against gravity in those fucking heels. But fuck, did they look good wrapped around me in that bathroom.

I can’t deny she wore the shit out of her baby-blue dress. I found her immediately, and at the same time, found my new favorite color. Did I mention that my woman is hot? Because fuck me sideways, I nearly passed out from how quickly the blood left one head, going straight to the other.

That dress hugs each of her small curves with perfection, those legs leading to heaven, and all I wanted to do was sink my teeth into her delectable thighs. It was when that piece of shit shimmied up behind her that I realized I hadn’t managed to simmer any of my rage, and I just saw red at his hand on her hip. In that single moment, all I knew was that the fucker needed to remove his grubby hands from her, and I was happy to do the removing for him. I had barely blinked before I had him clutched by the neck of his shirt, ready to tear him apart, but the floral scent of Casey’s hair and the way her proximity set my entire being on fire, paired with that incredible dress, I managed to turn my attention to what mattered.

Casey was thoroughly wasted now, though.

“Ohhh, this is like déjà vu!” she whispers.

After fucking the rage out of my system in the bathroom of Bozzelli’s, we went back out and joined our friends. I tried to pull her away to talk after, but she had simply shaken her head and said it was fine. I couldn’t help the guilt eating away at me, though. I loved that Casey could take it rough. That my need for rage and control has never once scared her. But anytime I got that rough, I liked to be able to smooth it over after. A bath, a massage, something that allowed me to love on her or care for her, counteract the animal with a touch of chivalry. We didn’t get that tonight, and it was killing me.

I couldn’t swipe her tears before she did, and when I tried to get her alone again, she just shook her head at me. I couldn’t get a read on her for the rest of the night. She danced and drank–more than I’d ever seen her drink–and it had forced me to stop so I could keep an eye on her. I didn’t see a single smile, didn’t hear even a trill of her laughter. Casey was a shell, and I had never seen her so lost behind those ocean blue eyes. I eventually dragged her into an Uber to take her home when she started to forget what walking was.

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