Page 58 of Did They Break You

Fuck.

I step back, letting her jeans fall to the floor. She sighs, as if she’s content, then turns her head and opens her eyes, staring at me.

“Thanks, Cort,” she says softly.

My eyes go to her panties, and I don’t see any hair around her bikini line.

Something hot flares in me, and it isn’t pleasant.Who has she fucked since me?I hate that thought. It makes me want to puke.

I unbutton my shirt as I keep my eyes on hers and she bites her lip as I pull my shirt off, tossing it on the floor.

I rake my hand through my hair, reach up toward the ceiling fan and catch Rems staring at my arm as my fingers find the dangle for the light.

A slight smile curves my lips and I flex my bicep more than I really need to, pull the cord, casting us in darkness.

I kick off my shoes, my own pants, but leave my undershirt and boxers on.

Then I plant my hands on the bed, crawling over her body.

A little breathless whimper escapes her lips as the mattress dips beneath my weight, and I find the gleam of her eyes in the darkness.

She doesn’t touch me, but she doesn’t move either.

“You doing okay, Rems?” I ask her quietly, lifting a hand to her brow, brushing aside a lock of her hair.

“Are you going to sleep with me?” Her words sound hopeful.

“You wanna sleep?” I ask her, dropping my forehead to hers.

Her hands come to my ribs. I hear her swallow, smell the alcohol on her breath as she answers me. It’s like a warning.

But I’m not too good with those.

I think about the trembling girl I bumped into on the sidewalk when she first realized I was back.

That Remi is terrified of me.

This Remi is compliant.

That should scare me off, but I don’t think she’d be stupid enough to put us through what we went through last year twice.

And when she asks, “Kiss me?” I know I’m not going to do the right thing here. I’ve spent the past year defending myself against being a monster.

It feels kind of good to just give into it. To become what she tried to make me out to be.

My body flushes with heat and I cup her face with my hand, angle my head, and brush my lips against hers.

They’re soft, and even with that alcohol, she tastes good. It’s almost like getting drunk, tasting the vodka on her mouth.

Her nails dig into my ribs.

I’m still on my knees, but I want to be flush against her.

I want to reach between us and push my fingers into her. Remind her what I feel like.

“Who have you slept with?” I ask her, our lips brushing. I hear her sharp intake of breath, and her grip is painful againstmy ribs, but I don’t care. “Since…” I close my eyes a second, even though she can’t see me in the dark. “Since that night?”

She’s silent, and I hear my pulse pounding in my chest. So loud, I wonder if she knows how nervous I am.

---