Page 90 of Something So Strong

“I don’t… But I’ve been good today.”

“How do I know you won’t change your mind tomorrow?”

“I’ll never leave you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” I gasp, and tug at the covers.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!”

Releasing the sheets, I search for Jesse’s thighs. The coarse blond hairs feel rough beneath my fingertips. His flesh is muscular and rigid. He’s not what I had planned. But now… he’s my main reason for living.

“I’ll never leave you,” I repeat, looking him dead in the eye.

“God—fuck!” he curses—shuddering forward and coming all over my stomach. Catching himself with one arm, his dick slaps against mine. “You can come now,” he huffs.

I grit my teeth. “Not till you tell me you don’t want me to leave.”

“You’ve been mine since before you even knew it.”

I’ve been his?

Jesus Christ.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, push my forehead into his chest, and groan so primally the ground may actually be shaking.

This whole time I thought it had just been me. That I was the only one who saw light in the darkness whenever we were together. The only one who knew from the very first day that this was something far more special than anything I’d ever known before it.

Like a solar flare, I explode, and all the twisted self-hate inside me erupts—smearing between our bodies.

Three deep breaths and my vision is clear. But I’m spent, and my rational mind hasn’t rejoined my body.

Flopping back against the mattress, I chase light spots around the ceiling.

Jesse moves to sit beside me. “Sorry, I got so carried away.”

“What for?” I ask—still soaring above him.

“I just… Don’t worry.” He shakes his head. “Let’s have a shower together.”

Forced to the ground far sooner than I’d like, I slap my palm against his chest and let it drag down his torso. “I told you last time, I don’t do intimacy.”

Jesse looks at me like I’m an inanimate object that just started talking and he’s trying to figure out if I’m real or he’s tripping serious balls. “What we just did was pretty fucking intimate.”

The Donegal is packed.

I did suggest we try somewhere else, but that was hastily shut down by Saxon at light speed. It’s not like I’ve been here for three years or anything. Nah, it’s a Tuesday night. There won’t be many people out. It’s not a resort town or anything. The hotel’s lowest occupancy day certainly wouldn’t indicate that most staff are off midweek and have nowhere else to go…

Letting the entrance door swing closed behind me, I linger a few steps behind Jesse like an odd guilt is keeping me away.

The look on his face when I refused his offer of a shower was like a bullet to the chest. But I just can’t do that kind of thing. It’s too much. I don’t know how to be like that. Sex, I understand, where intimacy is like a foreign language.

“You coming?” he calls back to me and extends his hand in my direction.

“There’ll be seats in the bistro,” I say when I catch up. Draping my arms across Jesse and Saxon’s shoulders, I grin like the Cheshire Cat at the absurdity that it’s Saxon who wraps his arm around my waist.

“Fuck, that smells good,” Romeo groans like a starving animal. “It’s been forever since I’ve had a roast.”

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