Page 29 of Embody

Ten

Bellamy

I’M ABSOLUTELY LIVID, and I don’t get livid—I’m pretty even keeled.

I’m also enthralled. I’ve never felt anything even close to this all-consuming fascination and I find myself wondering what more I’m missing.

But most importantly, I’m disappointed. Saddened to realize there’s some manipulation with other people’s fates going on, with no thought or regard for their feelings.

No offense to Mr. and Mrs. Kendrick, who I have no doubt are clueless to the games being played, but their children’s behavior is severely lacking the values and morals I know they pride their family on and work endlessly to instill.

My head and body are still reeling from that kiss Jefferson put on me. The way his warm lips grazed over my skin. His fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs as he held me up as if I weighed nothing and crushed his body to mine. Hedefinitelyhas a right to his always confident smirk. The confident swagger in his walk. The twinkle of primality ever-present in those dark brown eyes. I now know, first-hand, it’s not an act. The man can make your body do and feel things you didn’t know it capable of…and I want more.

But I want more of the man who just took control and demanded my surrender, made me abandon all sense of reason and submit to him willingly. Deliriously.

Made me feel like a woman. A wanted woman, who needn’t think or worry about a thing while in his arms.

I havenodesire to pussyfoot around and keep the secrets of a coward.

And the little time I’ve spent around his father was more than enough to know, he doesn’t come from cowardice stock. The man, so crazed with pure, masculine desire and dominance, ready to make me his, right outside my door? Unconcerned with who may see or what they’d think?Thatwas the real Jefferson Kendrick. And I won’t settle for anything less.

So when, if ever, he’s ready to man up to everyone else…he knows where to find me.

In the meantime, I’m gonna teach a couple people a lesson. Serve them up healthy, heaping doses of their own medicine. Youneverforget the taste of cod liver oil, my grandma’s horrific remedy every time I coughed or sneezed.

Open wide, Kendrick kids—I’m about to show you exactly how it feels to have your life, choices and emotions fucked with behind your back.

Or am I? Just when I get all geared up to plan my counter-attack, a huge wave of guilt washes over me.

I hate games—when people callously play them—and I certainly wouldn’t ever engage in them myself withoutseriousprovocation. But if I simply call them out on what I know is going on…then I’ll never be certain if Jefferson would’ve fought for me and Brynn would’ve done the right thing on her own. So, the second route isn’t an option…or I might as well just stop speaking to them both for good right now, because I can’t pretend for the rest of my life to have faith in your character if I don’t.

What to do?

Call Emma, my best friend from back home. Yes, good plan.

“Hey,” she answers on the third ring. “Kinda late, you okay?”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally, not so much. I need some advice.” I sigh in her ear.

“What are we talkin’ here? Like, I can keep lying down with my eyes closed and insert a “yep” once in a while or do I need to sit up and be cognitive?”

I laugh, already feeling lighter. Good ol’, dry as toast humor Emma. I love and miss her. “Sitting up and cognitive please.”

“Oh shit,” she mumbles and I hear the sheets ruffle as she maneuvers herself upright. “I’m up, shoot.”

“Okay, but you have to keep in mind, I’m working strictly off assumptions and the piecing together of a few clues, but…I’d bet a tit I’m right.”

“Which tit?”

“What?Why does that matter?” I ask, now questioning whether or not she actually knows what “cognitive” means.

“Hello, your tits are like your hands, one is dominant. My left tit? Eh, she’s cool, but kinda dull. My right one? She’s my girl! Super sensitive and my orgasm trigger.”

I just…nope, I’ve got nothing. “I have no idea what the hell you’re even saying, or why, so moving on. Emma? You still there?”

Silence.

I look at my screen—the call’s still connected, didn’t accidentally push mute with my cheek.Oh my God…“Emma! Quit rubbing your right tit and listen!”

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