Page 19 of Bulletproof Love

“I was just leaving,” Falin says, digging her nails into my hand.

“If she’s leaving, I am too,” I say.

“The fuck you are.” She glances in the direction of the door as Jake sticks his head in. “I’m coming, Jake.”

I chuckle. “That’s the only time he’s ever heard that phrase.” That earns me a punch to the gut.

Okay, I’ll take it.

“Why are you doing this?” Her tone softens but is still full of contempt.

Here’s where I can come right out and say any number of the reasons why I can’t let her hook-up with another person. None of which have anything to do with me trying to control her.

I like you. More than like… but I’m fucking terrified of hurting you. I’m not the “good guy” you think I am. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything. I can’t look at you without wanting to sling you over my shoulder and drag you into my bed.

I struggle to find the right words as my mouth opens and closes uselessly. “I—uh?—”

Before I can let out a coherent thought, Jake’s head pokes back through the doorway. “Hey, um, I gotta get going. Hit me up later.”

Her face falls, but only for a moment. I catch it though and I don’t know if I want to kick myself or pat myself on the back now that I’ve effectively gotten rid of Suit. “Yeah, okay,” she calls out to his retreating head.

“I’m sorry?” There’s no way in hell I sound sincere. By the evil glare I get, I know she doesn’t buy my apology. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. You’ve done more than enough already. Let’s just go home so I can take out my frustrations on my keyboard.”

“You can take your frustrations out on me.” I don’t mean for my words to drip with innuendo. They just naturally do when I’m talking to her.

She sizes me up, leaving me wondering what’s going on inside her head.

CHAPTERSEVEN

FALIN

Since I wasold enough to remember, probably shortly after my dad found me and my parents adopted me, I’ve had a hard time expressing my frustrations. An even tougher time calming myself down.

There were many attempts to curb my wild, volatile side during my childhood years, most brought about by my parents not knowing what to do with me. They signed me up for soccer, karate, archery, competitive swim… even a short stint in cheer. I can’t say those were the worst ideas. Physical exertion was always good for clearing the mind. Except cheer… I hated that shit. They realized nothing worked, and after my mom died, he didn’t care anymore.

But when I turned seventeen, I figured out that sex helped. Of course, in our small town, there were only so many people to choose from, so that form of recreation was limited.

Right now, looking at Jasper, all the horny feelings I felt an hour ago morph into a tingling wave of anger. Now that Jake’s gone and I can’t fuck my frustrations away, I’ll need another way to calm down. There’s no way I’ll fool around with Jasper. He had his chance and turned me down. That night together wasn’t even important enough for him to remember the next day. It doesn’t matter that we have insane sexual tension. I care too much about myself to sink that low.

“Why are you scary quiet? And what’s that face you’re making?” His head tilts as he studies me.

There’s only one thing I can do to calm my mind and ease my frustrations.

He follows me like a puppy across the street and down the block until we reach our apartment door. I purposely stay quiet, letting him stew. I hate to admit it, but not all the horny feelings left. His discomfort makes me wet. Knowing he has no idea what I’ll do or say gives me that feeling of control I desperately crave. He feels bad for screwing up my afternoon? Well, I’ll teach him not to interfere with my plans.

* * *

Blake knockslightly and cracks my bedroom door open while I circle Jasper. I keep my eyes fixed on my work, watching his shoulders tense with each step I take.

“Oh, wow,” she says, drawing out the word. “I—Um, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“One second, I almost have it right,” I say. “There.” I let my hand fall, almost brushing Jasper’s arm with the scalding hot glue gun, and face her. “What do you think?”

Her eyes widen as they dart between me and Jasper. “You’re crafting.”

“Yes,” I say. “His mask needed some pizazz.”

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