Page 43 of Still Her

Jack rests his forehead against my back as he thrusts into me with beautifully brutal strokes. He holds his weight on one hand while his other arm stays wrapped protectively around my middle. My gasps and moans carry through our vaulted living room as my arousal climbs and climbs. Jack is communicating so much to me in this moment. With each pound, it’s like he’s trying to establish some kind of control after recently relinquishing a small amount on a different plane. His hand gently grips my chin to turn my head back so our lips can unsteadily meet between our sharp and forceful movements. And then he withdraws from me to nudge my hip and turn me to my back. I let out a low groan of relief when he’s back inside me. His hands go into my hair as he resumes his motions, pinning my gaze with his.

You’re everything, his eyes say. His intense glare just magnifies the sensations flowing through my body, turning me on to the maximum capacity.

The euphoria culminates with Jack holding me against him. I fall off the cliff, careening and tumbling as he slams the last of his release into me, letting me have it all. My plummeting slows little by little, until I’m caught safely in his arms.

JACK

Even if I could find the right words, I don’t have the mental capacity to say them right now, so I’m trying, with my body, with my touch, to convey to Mayzie that while I’m letting go of a small amount of dominance in our predicament, I’m not happy about it. That my need to protect her and keep her close comes from a place of love so profound it can’t be fathomed. That my need to not let her out of my sight may be unreasonable to some, but so be it. She may be strong, capable and brave, but that doesn’t mean I want to let her walk into a situation where she has to be.

And now, as we lay facing each other, I know I need to tell her that. If I had my way, we’d never talk about this again. But if we’re keeping this option open, I need us to be clear about something.

“I don’t even want to talk about this,” I whisper, “but I need to say one thing.”

“Okay,” she says, looking me in the eyes and giving me her attention.

“Ifwedecide to take that fucker down, I’m going to be nearby.” She continues to look at me with no response, but she’s taking in my words, so I continue. “You’re not going to worry about where the hell I’m supposed to be, or what I should be doing with the band. You’re going to let me be your fucking husband this time, which means I’m going to beright there.” I don’t mean to be coming off like such an overbearing asshole, I’m just having a hard time letting go of any amount of control over something so important to me, and I’m desperately grasping on to as much as I can. I soften my tone before saying, “Got it?” I smooth my thumb over her cheek, hoping she understands how hard it is for me to even entertain this option.

“Yes,” she responds, her eyes solemnly trained on mine. I feel my eyebrows go up.Thatwas easy. She’s not being a pistol. Looks like we’re both giving a little here. “Ineedyou, Jack.” And with those words, my eyes close and my entire body relaxes in a slump, like all the resolve is deflating out of it. She really just said that and meant it. I know she loves me, that she wants me. But taking care of her is what makes my heart beat. I feel a trace of calmness return to my soul and settle in my chest.

“Think we can leave it on that note for now?” I ask, giving her a hopeful half-smile.

She closes her eyes and nods. “Definitely.”

* * *

MAYZIE

After turning over a thousand times in bed that night, I pull the covers back and get up. This is ridiculous. I can’t get a decent sleep in our own bed. I glance over to make sure my movements didn’t wake Jack and see him shirtless on his side, his eyes still closed. I pick his t-shirt up from off the floor and put it on. The soft cottony material falls down to my knees and I’m enveloped in his clean, leathery scent. My eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, and I wander the house without flipping any lights on until I get to the kitchen where I turn on the single small one that hangs over the stove. I shuffle around, opening the fridge and closing it, rifling through cupboards, not sure what the hell I hope to find that will be the answer to this insomnia. And then, as I lean back against the fridge, my eyes land on it: my laptop, resting on the island countertop. My brain won’t turn off with all the loud thoughts racing around in it, like it’s a frickin’ Nascar track. Maybe if I just let some of it out…

I walk over to the other side of the island and park myself in front of the stool that my laptop is at and power it up. When I was with Annie earlier, I didn’t tell her what was going on; that this thing with Eli had escalated to this level. She cares too much and this would stress her out when she has enough on her mind. She definitely doesn’t need to hear about my dumpster fire of a situation right now. I’ll fill her in when things have blown over.

Once the laptop is booted, I open a new document and just start typing, barely giving any thought to the words that flow out of my mind and onto the screen. I have to write. Even if I can’t turn it into anything that can be published, I have to get it out so that maybe it will stop torturing me on the inside.

It’s like Eli has taken on the form of some asinine little demon fucker that has taken over my mind, annoyingly tapping at my frontal lobe, and I have to make him shut the fuck up by venting all of this into a writing piece so that I can hopefully get some sleep, for fucks sake.

Before I know it, there is a page and a half of words staring back at me and I’m just getting warmed up. I quickly get up to turn my electric tea kettle on and grab a mug out of one of the cupboards. I’m on a roll. I have a feeling in my bones that this is the way to vanquish Little Demon Fucker Eli. It’s like an exorcism!

An hour and five pages later, my mind feels lighter and my eyelids feel heavier. It’s still pitch black outside; the digital clock in the upper right corner of my screen reads 3:12 AM. I’m leaning my head on my hand, staring blankly at what I’ve written. It doesn’t seem to be complete, but it must be for now. Nothing more is coming out of me, and I’m drained.

“Hey,” I hear a husky whisper from the entryway that leads to the living room. I look over my shoulder at Jack and give him a tired smile. He’s thrown on running pants but nothing else.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, ambling over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

“Couldn’t sleep. What about you?” I ask, as he rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Reached over to cop a feel and you weren’t there. What’s this?” He gives his chin a nudge towards my screen.

“This… is Little Demon Fucker Eli,” I confirm with a slight nod of my head. I feel him go still and can see his eyebrows draw together in confusion in my peripheral.

“You… wanna, maybe… explain…?” He starts chuckling and shaking his head, not getting my particular brand of three AM weirdness.

“Well,” I start matter-of-factly, waving my hand in explanation. “While his douchiness is not here in physical form, he’s robbing me of sleep by monopolizing my brain. Like a little demon fucker,” That earns me an amused smile. “So I’m writing, hoping it will clear my head.” I end with a shrug.

“What do you think it’s going to be? An article?”

“Something like that, maybe an essay. Doesn’t matter; I can’t publish it. Not right now anyway, he’d sue me for slander.”

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