Page 54 of Burn With Me

I didn’t like the way he said it—as though my stranger said it was okay to entertain someone else for the weekend. I didn’twantanyone else. Really, I just wanted to talk tohim. To confide in my teacher that our lessons are paying off.

When disappointment coursed through my veins, it was because I had no one to talk to about it. Not because I looked forward to another lesson, which I stowed away in my mind because it seemed important, but because I wanted to talk to him more than be touched by him.

Jackson’s hands are the ones I want touching me—hishands, his lips, and other parts of him that I yearn to discover. Where Jackson is concerned, I feel like I’m scaling a rock wall with no proper equipment to catch me when I fall.

And Iwillfall.

No matter how much I fantasize about a future with him, I know there is none.

But even though I know that, my mind has once again set me up for heartbreak. A heartbreak that I’m running toward at full speed.

Trailing a hand down the crisp white shirt Jackson let me borrow—the one I’m currently wearing with a pair of thigh-high wool socks as I lounge in my bed—a small smile pulls at my lips as I reminisce about yesterday.

That is, until I hear footsteps down the hall. Then my lips drop as I stare at my open door in horror.

Chris was supposed to have left early this morning. I thought that he just hadn’t said goodbye and was glad for it. But his smarmy face appears before he pushes the door wider so that he can step into my bedroom.

“You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” His eyes scan my shirt, and where I expect fury to burn through them, I find…pity?

He sighs. “Oh, Guinevere. You really are so delusional, aren’t you?”

His hands are in the pockets of his navy dress pants, but he pulls one out to reveal his phone. Holding it in the air, he gives it a shake before pulling the other hand from his pocket to press the screen.

Suddenly, Jackson’s voice fills my bedroom.

“I’m drowning in pussy. I have no interest in chasing after your sister. Simple women like her can’t hold my interest, and I’m not into redheads.”

Something tight grips my chest. My throat seizes, and I have to work very hard to ensure that my face does not fall in front of Chris. Swallowing the rock that’s lodged in my throat, I shrug. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Don’t pretend like his good looks and playboy charm haven’t swept you away. I just wanted to remind you that you’renothingto him. Men like him don’t fall for women likeyou. However, sick as you are, you are everything tome. You. Belong. To.Me. So don’t go getting yourself into trouble while I’m gone. I have eyes on you, Gin.”

Walking further into my room, he stalks slowly around the bed and sits on the edge near me. Reaching out, he gently pushes some of the hair that’s escaped from the bun piled on top of my head out of my face, fingers ghosting my cheek down to my chin, where he grabs me roughly.

Jerking me toward him, he smashes his lips to mine. His other hand winds into the loose bun, threading his fingers through the strands and squeezing tightly, causing tears to spring to my eyes.

I don’t struggle.

I don’t kiss him back.

Not until his fingers ease and he’s about to pull away. Only then do I part my lips slightly and suck his lower lip into my mouth, nibbling gently—just like he likes it.

There’s no pleasure in it. I do it so he doesn’t leave me crumpled in pain like he usually does when I resist.

His grip turns gentle, caressing my skin and massaging my scalp to soothe the sting. Even though tears fall from my eyes, I give him a small smile when he pulls back.

Resting his forehead on mine, he looks into my eyes and says earnestly, “If you’re a good girl while I’m gone, when I return, I just might have to fuck you finally. I’m tired of punishing you, Ginny. I want to start a life with you. That means giving each other everything—body, soul, and mind. Your mind is already beautifully broken. And I’ve tasted and touched most of your body. But our souls have yet to fuse together. I think it’s time we consummate this relationship and call it what it really is.”

Bile rises in my throat, but I force it down as I continue to smile at him, tears still streaming down my face. There’s noneed to reply. He’s not looking for a response. He pulls back and lays a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll only be gone for a few months. Until then.” He lays another chaste kiss on my lips and gets up from the bed, not bothering to look back as he walks out of my room, down the hall, and out the front door.

Releasing a shuddered breath, I let out a sob and stumble out of bed to run to my bathroom, throwing up the contents of my stomach until there’s nothing left.

Vigorously, I brush my teeth before stripping down to get into the shower. As I scrub his touch from my skin, I recall Jackson’s words.

When did Chris even talk to him? Jackson never mentioned seeing him. Did his words have any truth to them? It certainly seems like something he’d say—but that was before. It seems like something he’d saybefore.

Not now.

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