by Jayla Kane
“Yes, we do,” he said evenly, and I sighed. “But we could do that tomorrow. You aren’t going home—why?”
“Because I can’t deal with Zelle,” I snapped, “which is none of your fucking business—”
“Oh?” A tilt of the brow and he was back, the tiny sneer lifting his lip dangerously seductive at the same time it made my skin crawl. “So it’s nothing that involves me, then? Nothing like, say, the fact that she—and you, let’s not forget—”
“Yes, let’s not,” I snarled, leaning towards him. “You know what? You’re right. We need to talk. Let’s go back to campus before Leo shows up and arrests me for assault and battery.”
“Raven, sweetie, I don’t think I have enough cash on me to pay you for indulging that kind of kink,” he said, and I hauled off and slapped him. Words—some of them satisfying exclamations of pain—swarmed briefly in my mind’s eye as my palm stung from the sharp contact. Several people walking by gasped, and one woman stopped and pulled out her cell phone. Jake didn’t move an inch, instead leaning down and thrusting his face next to mine. His voice was a hiss. “Play nice, Raven. I just told you I don’t have that kind of cash—not for your services as a Domme or for your damn bail money, so calm the fuck down.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and we marched, side by side, all the way back to the Institute and then barreled up the stairs to the office. Only after we stood inside, panting as we stared each other down, did I realize that the snow was gone. The room was cold, at least fifteen degrees lower than outside, but there was no trace of damp on the carpet. All of it, gone. When I glanced back at him, I knew he was thinking the same thing without having to hear the words. Our eyes locked on each other as he stepped in front of me, barring my way further in, and I stumbled away from him, my back bumping against the hard wooden door.
Jake leaned over me to place one hand on either side of my face, trapping me there. The tension between us grew taut, riddled with traces of fear… And lust.
I was too aware of his body—the length of him, the pull of movement in each muscle, each sinew on his copper frame. Those chocolate freckles. The way his eyelids slipped lower, lashes fluttering, as his gaze ran over my face, catching the hitch in my breath as I pressed back against the door. Both of us were suddenly still, suddenly close to panting, and I felt my tongue dart out and lick my lips at the sight of his slightly open mouth, white teeth waiting.
“So you want to hit me?”
I didn’t move; his voice was another dark caress, a slippery whisper sheathed secret.
“We’re alone now, Bird. You can, if you want to.”
So I did.
I didn’t overthink it—that beautiful face was right in front of mine, taunting me, making me feel so… So angry. For turning me on, for making me think for half a second he cared about me back at Leo’s, for this. Another resounding thwack resonated around the room when my hand made contact with his delicious skin and he softly exhaled, head tilting slightly to the side. When his gaze returned to my face, it scorched me down to my core. His eyes were almost luminescent in the dim light.
“Fine,” he growled. “Since we’re all about honesty now. You can hit me as much as you want, but I—” He suddenly lunged forward, snapping his teeth in my face—“Get to do what I want.”
“No.” I was not having sex with him again. I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t—
“You can’t?” He raised an eyebrow, watching me, our faces six inches apart. I sharply inhaled; this wasn’t a gift. I couldn’t control it, and it was so exposing— “I think you’re lovely when you’re exposed,” he said softly, and then he kissed my throat… It reminded me so much of the very first time we were ever in this office, when he had me pinned on the desk… I thought he was going to hurt me, but my body’s response…
Jake wrapped his hands around my waist and hoisted me up in the air so that we were face to face in one fluid movement. As soon as my body touched down on his—my sore, swollen pussy, raw and damp and ashamed and already fucking turned on—I flushed with desire so intense I could feel my skin heating up, the blood roaring to the surface. Jake rocked into me from below, and I moaned out loud; his face was right in front of mine, the last thing I saw before my eyes slid shut. The shiver that ran through me at that burst of pressure finally abated when he held me, pinned and still, against the door, and I hauled off and slapped him again. His face snapped back towards mine, predatory grin in place, and he leaned in and bit my bottom lip.
“I’m sorry Raven,” he snarled, unbuttoning my pants as he leaned in and tugged on my earlobe with his bared teeth. My legs dangled in the air; my back was flat against the wood, the rough texture shoving against my spine. “I’m not going to have sex with you, no matter how bad you want it. I haven’t showered yet, and that would be filthy,” he hissed in my ear, his hips gently rolling against my pussy as I floated in his embrace against the door, my head rocking backwards with each thrust. I was disgusted with myself, but I couldn’t push him away; I wanted it. He was right, it was filthy, and I wanted it anyway. The shame brought tears to the corners of my eyes even as I moaned out loud. “I know,” he whispered, kissing my jawline as his hand fought its way inside of my jeans, his long fingers finding my damp flesh. We both sighed as he slipped one inside of me. “I know you love it filthy,” he growled, teeth grazing my throat, “but if you really don’t want to have sex…Well…”
It was a dare. A tease. But I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it. His fingers worked inside of me, slow and sure, and as the pad of his thumb slipped over my clit I cried out… But I didn’t want to give in to my body. I trembled in his arms, and when my eyes opened I found him taking in my face with avid concentration, the snarl gone from his expression. He leaned his forehead against mine, one powerful arm still wrapped around my waist, and buried his fingers inside of me when I felt an orgasm begin to gnaw on my backbone. “Jake…” His mouth found mine, soft and searching, and he stroked his tongue against my own as he pumped his fingers inside, the rhythm slow and deep.
Come for me, Raven… His tone was sweet and urgent as it slid through my mind, the promise in it free from the darkness we shared. I rested my head on his shoulder as his mouth climbed over my bared neck and did as he asked, shivering with reluctant ecstasy in his arms.
When I was done I expected… I don’t know. Something. Something rough, maybe even something bad; he had so much ammo right now. I felt dirty, if not used; I still expected something like last time—a shrug, a dismissal. I braced myself for it, even as my skin glittered with the remnants of the pleasure he forced through my body.
But he let me down, disentangling his arms from around me, and tilted my chin up with one steady hand as he slowly, languidly, licked the fingers of his other hand, eyes daring me to look away. There was nothing I recognized on his face; not cruelty, not calm, not even shared pleasure, although he did seem… Pleased. Maybe just with himself, I couldn’t tell.
It made me wonder why he’d done it at all.
Was this how it was between people like us? People who couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, but made each other feel like shit? His cheek was just beginning to return to its natural color, the bruise I planted there fading; he stared down at me as if he was waiting for me to say something. But I didn’t know what to say.
It didn’t change what had happened earlier. It didn’t change anything at all.
Just because he could make me cum without even trying didn’t mean I owed him the truth in my heart.
Jake shook off my gaze and sauntered over to one of the chairs and draped his frame across it, leaving me the door, where I was still leaning, or the desk.
The desk where he’d just… Where we’d just…
Jesus, was that only a few hours ago?
“So I’m crazy,” he said, his words stark and loud in the room. “Makes sense, right?”
“What do you mean?” I turned and decided the best move was to act like I didn’t care as much as I did, perchi
ng on the edge of the hard wood and letting my legs hang in the air as I hunched forward. My body was recovering from my orgasm, knees shaking; this hid it a little better. “We covered this. You’ve always been crazy.”
“No, I mean, I’m literally crazy now, to use your turn of phrase,” he said bluntly, his tone almost painfully blank. “I can feel the difference—and thank you, by the way, for your loving, compassionate observations. I can always count on you for objectivity, Raven.”
“What do you mean, you’re literally crazy now?”
“I’ve been…” Jake sat up taller in his chair and looked at me. “You really can’t tell the difference? You can’t hear it?” He pointed to his temple, watching me, and I shook my head.
“I don’t think I can control it yet, no matter what I told Leo.” He waited, and I sighed and sat up straighter, unsure how much to tell him. If he thought I could read his thoughts, would that somehow keep him from acting like an asshole? Probably not. Would it keep him from… From wanting to… I shivered and hugged myself, wrapping my arms tightly around my torso. Apparently not that either; it certainly hadn’t kept me from wanting him, craving him. Which sucked. “Right now, I can’t hear anything—I haven’t been able to hear much since we left his house.”
Jake frowned, considering. “How did you—when I was going to attack Tristan, you yelled so loud in my head I thought I was going to die. How did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” I said, then raised an eyebrow at him. “You did it first, though.”
“What?”
“You told me ‘no.’ And I know what you mean—it felt like you punched me, it was so loud. It hurt my brain,” I said, and we gave each other a quick smile before we realized what we were doing and dropped it. “Anyway. I don’t know how to do it on purpose. I didn’t hear anybody else, either, just you.”
“Do you think that’s…” I looked up at him, and blinked at his expression. He wasn’t playing the asshole right now, and it never failed to startle me to see my old friend on his handsome face. He swallowed. “Do you think it’s because we had sex?”
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling shy. I looked down at the carpet for a second, then frowned up at him. “I really… I don’t know, Jake. Especially since…” Since I told you I love you, and you told me you love me. And we can never, ever talk about it. “Hey. You said you were going crazy before that?”
“Maybe,” he said, letting the former line of conversation drift away. “I felt fucking crazy—and don’t make another crack about how I’ve always been that way. This was different from wanting revenge, or needing to know what happened—which is not crazy, by the way. That’s fucking reasonable.”
“Revenge is reasonable?”
“Yes,” he said, settling back in his chair, and I sat up straighter and glared at him.
“You didn’t get enough revenge already?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” I couldn’t believe him. I jumped down from the desk and felt my whole body clenching as I stared at him, fury pulsing through me. “I mean the four years I spent being hunted like a goddamn animal for no fucking reason. That’s what I mean.”
“So you get to decide when enough is enough?” He started to stand up, but I rushed over to him and put my hand on his chest, leaning into his face. His expression was… Defiant.
Fuck him. Fuck him.
“Yes,” I said evenly. “I just walked all over downtown with your revenge running down my goddamn legs, Jake. I’ve agreed to being used and embarrassed, I didn’t agree to being degraded and tortured and fucked with, but you did all that anyway. And I didn’t kill him.” I stared into those eyes, their eerie colors blending in the darkening light as he stared back at me, unblinking. I knew he was listening closely because I could hear the echo of my own voice in his head, the point of contact on his chest allowing me to know exactly what he thought. I dropped my hand and took a step back, crossing my arms over my chest. “I have no idea what’s between us now. I’m going to be your Sineater—even before we talked to Leo, it was important to me to prove to you that I wanted to make things right between us—that I always wanted to make things right between us. But the way you treated me after we…” It hurt, saying it out loud. “I don’t think I mind the way we… The way we have sex,” I said, trying to make my voice as calm as I could. It was difficult; I did like it. He’d called me out on that right away, the first time, when he made me cum while he spanked me. But that didn’t give him the right to treat me like garbage. “But you can’t treat me like this. You can’t keep punishing me for something I didn’t do.”
“You lied.” He swallowed again, gritting his teeth, and pushed out of his chair. He was more than a foot taller than me, and as he took a step towards me I had to lift my chin to look at his face. “You want to act like that never happened?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “I lied. I didn’t want to go to jail. I didn’t want my sister to go to jail.” And I hoped—hoped with everything I had—that I could make it right. “So you’ve never lied? You’re really just punishing me because I told a lie, and somehow that’s worse than years of hell? And then this… This humiliation you make me endure—”
“I make you?” Jake leaned over me, and we were dangerously close to returning to our positions from the very first time we ever stood in this room—him backing me up to the desk, me sliding under him as he pinned me there, his voice a promise of seductive pain in my ear. “Are you saying I forced you to—”
“Not to have sex, you fucking asshole!” I stood my ground, and he stared down at me, imperious and cold. “For making me feel bad about wanting to! For making me feel ashamed of wanting you!”
We stood there, eyes locked, for a full minute before I couldn’t take it any more. I put my hands on his chest to push him, and froze. I heard his voice loud and clear, echoing through my mind: you left me.
You left me completely alone. In that house. With him.
“I can’t say it,” he growled. “I can’t make myself say it. But you can hear me, can’t you? You know,” Jake told me, his eyes effervescent in the dying light, “what you did. And it was a hell of a lot worse than a simple lie.”
“Jake, I told you I’m sorry,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the tremor out of my voice.
“I wonder if you can do more than hear what I’m thinking,” he said softly, and then he wrapped his hands around my wrists, pinning my palms to his chest. As soon as his skin touched mine, thoughts and images and… Feelings… began to rumble through me. “I wonder if I could show you what it was like.”
He didn’t hit me again, Jake told me, and I shuddered, bombarded with images from his memory, of Lucas’s face as the belt fell, again and again. I thought that was strange. But it made it a little easier, I guess… I was just so lonely without you, Raven… And then I felt cold—an indescribable cold, and pain, as if I were being carved out from the inside. Images swirled by, some of them of me, and I realized I was watching myself from his eyes, that first year, as I left him behind with my lie. Everything felt… Freezing cold. Ice in the veins, a tangle of pain in my chest, worse and worse until… There was nothing.
“Jacob, I’m sorry,” I whispered again, and when I looked up at him I realized he was feeling something from me too—his eyes blinked rapidly, as if he were absorbing images too quickly to process them. I yanked myself free and he stood there for a moment, staring at nothing, sweat beading on his forehead. I was scared I’d hurt him—“Jake? Jacob—” I started to reach out for him again and swore, not sure what to do, when he finally sucked in a deep breath and stumbled back from me, landing in his chair. I rushed over to him and stopped myself from touching him again just in time. “Jake! Jake!”
“That’s why you wanted to get in the Vault.” His eyes were now locked on mine, bright and wide, their colors swirling together. The room was gloomy, the day over and done. “You wanted to… You thought you might be able to bring him back?”
> I clenched my hands, stepping away from him. God only knew what else he’d seen in those few seconds—was it an exchange of memory from the same period of time? Was it just words? What? I hadn’t even been aware it was happening—I couldn’t control this. I snapped back to the moment when I saw him lurch forward, trying to stand and unable to, his eyes locked on mine as he waited for my answer. “Yes. I thought… As soon as I remembered all of her stories—Mom’s stories, you… You probably remember them too…” He nodded, watching me. “I thought that might be the only thing that could fix it. And I could—I could bring Tristan back, and make it like it never happened, and then… And then we could be friends again,” I whispered, my voice unreliable, weighed down with all the foolish hopes I had as a fourteen year old, hatching my plot. “And it wouldn’t matter what had happened in between, because if I could bring him back…” You would love me again, I thought bitterly, unable to care if he heard. I smeared the tears off of my cheeks and crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t expect you to be… To be like you were. And I’m sorry for leaving you with Lucas. I always wanted to call the police, and you never let me, and after—after it all happened, I didn’t feel like I had the right.”
“Raven, why? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” The hurt in his voice made me gasp, and I covered my mouth with my hand involuntarily, trying to trap my own suffering within. He didn’t deserve to know how badly he’d hurt me; maybe Zelle had that part right. He was cruel to me. Unbearably. And I’d let him in to my most private self—a self I’d only ever wanted to share with him—and he made me feel… Bad. Like it didn’t matter—like I didn’t matter. The first night we spent together must have been a fluke, because today… Today made sense, given everything else. That night… That one night was the exception. Today was the rule. And no matter how hard I came, I didn’t deserve to feel like this afterward.
“How could I? How could I trust you?” I bit back another sob and plunged ahead. “At first, I was lying—I was protecting myself and my sister, and I was desperately trying to think of any possible way to get into the Vault. I was on the verge of telling you everything when… When it started.” He gulped, and I nodded, knowing he’d just seen it in my head. “Freshman year, first day of school—you know what I’m going to say, don’t you? Don’t you?”
