Page 83 of Something So Strong

“Thank god that’s over,” Jesse sighs, slumping forward on the desk.

“Don’t do that.” I bite my knuckle. “You’re giving me ideas.”

“Well, get that out of your head. I’m not a bottom.”

Like a punch in the guts, my diaphragm cramps, and I feel like I can’t draw enough breath into my lungs. “You might have to learn to be.”

“No chance.” He turns to face me. “I’ve been getting my dick wet for eight years. I don’t plan on being on the receiving end.”

“My mouth’s wet.”

With a burdened gulp, Jesse’s argument stumbles when he looks at my lips.

I shouldn’t poke my tongue into the side of my cheek and grin before letting the tip slip to push into the corner of my lips, but I do. I need him to break. Stubborn Jesse is sexy, but immovable brick wall Jesse won’t do either of us any favors.

Ripping his eyes away, he grabs his phone from the drawer and leans his hips on the counter in an attempt to conceal the effect I’ve had on him.

Pressing my chest against his back, I trace my hands along his belt, dig my thumbs into his waistband, and use it as leverage to grind myself against his ass. “You’re so sexy when you tie your hair back… And when you’re trying to hide how turned on you are.”

“How is this helping anything?” He exhales, tilting his hips backward against me as his head falls to the side.

“It’s not.”

“Then why?”

I know why. I fully understand the sweet agony of being tortured like this. I mean, I’m doing it to myself as well. But I need to keep him this way. I can’t let him slip through my fingers when I’ve only just secured him. “Why not?”

“Cause… Saxon wants you to come for drinks again tonight,” he says eventually, changing the subject. “I think he’s trying to steal you from me.”

“I didn’t think he knew about us.”

“He doesn’t. He just sees that you pay me more attention, and in his own special way, is threatened by it… You gonna come?”

“I told you I won’t keep my hands to myself. So if you’re willing to risk it, you won’t be able to keep me away.”

Dragging my hands back to Jesse’s sides, I run them firmly up from his waist. My fingers bump over his ribs until I’m rubbing his chest, and I can feel his nipples harden.

“As much as I hate to admit that I’m loving this just as much as you are, Esther is bound to barge through that door at any second.” Stepping back, my chest is instantly cold and aching for Jesse’s touch. Slumping into the blind, I grunt in frustration and have to reach into my khakis to adjust myself.

Bravely, he looks back at me, and I can see in an instant he regrets it.

“My balls are gonna be blue by the time I get to have my way with you again.” Stilling my hand, I leave it down my pants. “You look like you wanna help.”

“You’re your own worst enemy,” Jesse huffs with a sassy scowl and whips his head back around to look at his phone.

From where I’m standing, I can see him scrolling through pictures of broken bones on Google images, and I creep closer to take advantage of the boner-killing material.

“And I’m not your sub either, by the way.” Jesse puts down his phone. “I’m not your thing to use whenever you feel like it.”

“Are you saying you don’t like that I want you so bad?”

“Why would I hate it? Of course, I want the person I like to want to fuck me. I’m just used to that meaning I also get to fuck them.”

Anxiety percolates up from my toes and into the pit in my stomach where all my worst thoughts originate. I know his words are rational. Nothing about them is innately unreasonable, but—“You understand why it’s not something I can do, right?”

Jesse nods but doesn’t look at me, and the unease pushes up into my chest.

I know it’s not a fair thing to expect him to take on a role he isn’t comfortable with, but—simply put—he hasn’t been through what I have. He hasn’t been held down and forced to withstand probably the worst thing a person can be forced to endure and still live to talk about. To remember it, every fucking day of his life, and wish that the cowards would have just bashed his head in with a baseball bat instead.

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