“If you’re sticking around because you think you can fix me, you’re wrong.” She pulls on the black leggings she’d been wearing earlier, forgetting all about her panties. “I’m unfixable.”
“I don’t want to fix you.” I touch her arm, and she pauses, her gaze meeting mine. “I told you, I have no expectations.”
Her brows wrinkle. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
I throw my arms up in the air, frustrated as shit. “What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you I’m just using you for sex? That seems to piss you off. Or should I say that I care about you and think I could fall in love with you? I’m guessing that would probably piss you off even more.”
I’m not sure if I mean either scenario. Sex with Jensen is amazing. But I also like talking with her. Even arguing with her. It all feels like foreplay. But could I fall in love with her? I don’t know. Considering I don’t trust her, that’s a huge barrier.
She grabs her sweatshirt off the floor and puts it on, leaving her bra on the floor. “Do we really have to define this? Whatever’s happening between us?”
“I don’t know. Do we?”
A sigh escapes her and she looks away, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s suddenly cold. It’s warm and stuffy in my room, and I’m tempted to open the window despite the fact I’m standing here buck ass naked.
“One minute all I want is to feel your skin pressed against mine and the next I want to punch you in your perfect face,” she murmurs, her gaze lifting to mine. “You frustrate me.”
“You frustrate me too.”
“I don’t want to like you.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“You are everything I should hate.”
I flinch, shocked at the passion behind the word hate. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Not the literal you, the figurative you. The kind of guy you are,” she explains.
“You’re making zero sense,” I tell her, and now it’s her turn to throw her arms up in the air.
“Because you confuse the hell out of me!” She comes at me, and shoves at my shoulders with both hands, making me take a step back. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Well, I did, but I didn’t think I’d like you so damn much.”
“So you…what? Wanted a hookup and can’t believe that I’m actually decent human being?” She talks in circles. Acts like she had some sort of plan with me yet I’m the one who messed it all up.
“Yes! That. Exactly that.” She grips my shoulders, her fingers sliding down my skin. “You’re actually nice, Rhett. I didn’t expect that.”
“Then why would you even be interested in me, if you thought I was an asshole?”
“I’ve always been attracted to assholes.” She settles on the edge of the mattress, her entire body seeming to sag under the weight of her emotions. “The first guy I ever had sex with could burp the entire alphabet.”
I start to laugh, but when I spot the serious expression on her face, I stop. “What a talented dude.”
“He was a douche. The minute we started having actual intercourse, I was full of regret. But it was done. Couldn’t take it back.” She offers me a small smile. “The story of my life. I can’t take it back, no matter how much I want to.”
“Do you regret all of your sexual encounters?”
“The ones from when I was a kid, yeah. They were meaningless.” Her gaze locks with mine, her blue eyes stormy. “I’m not good with my feelings. Expressing them.”
I’m no expert either. Growing up essentially motherless will do that to a person. Diane claimed she wanted to be a mom to us, but she just said that to appease our father. When Park and I got older, she neglected us big time, especially me. None of us mattered. She only cared about the money.
Still does.
Jensen is so bottled up, so tense and jumpy, I can tell she’s not comfortable with expressing any kind of emotion.
“Why not?” I kneel in front of her, resting my hands on her knees. “I know your mom is gone. Your father passed away. You have no brothers or sisters. Was it really that bad, just living with your father?”
She nods. Presses her lips together. “We were broke. He never worked, not really. And things got worse and worse as he got older. And sicker. He wasn’t well. Mentally, he could never handle my mother’s abandonment. He wasn’t strong enough to be there for me. He tried at first, but near the end, he gave up. He was too angry at the world.”
“He should’ve been there for you,” I say firmly. My dad isn’t the best, but when things gets tough, he’s there for us as much as he can be. Diane is a major roadblock, but I know if shit got serious, he would put us above her.
At least, I think he would.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” She rests her hands on top of mine and then shoves them off her knees. “I should go.”
I rise up so my face is directly in hers. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“You can’t fix me, Rhett. No matter how much you think you can, it’s impossible,” she says softly.
Reaching for her, I cup the back of her head, pulling her in for a kiss. “I don’t want to fix you. I like you just as you are.” I press my lips to hers, our mouths parting, the lingering kiss soft and perfect, and just like that, my dick stirs to attention.
“Then you’re crazy, because I’m a nightmare,” she says, but I kiss her again to shut her up. The kiss turns deeper, our tongues lazy, my other hand slipping beneath her sweatshirt to touch her soft, smooth skin. I slowly push her so she’s lying flat on the bed, her legs dangling over the side of the mattress, and then I’m reaching for the waistband of her leggings, tugging them off until they’re a crumpled ball on the floor.
“Just let things happen,” I tell her, kissing her stomach, darting my tongue in her belly button. “It’s like you want to control every aspect of what’s happening between us, and that’s not how this sort of thing works.”
“That’s the problem.” I watch her as she stares up at the ceiling, her expression woeful, like she’s so utterly confused she doesn’t know which way to turn, or how to think. “I don’t have any experience with…relationships.”
“I don’t either.”
She lifts her head, glaring at me. “Really?”
I shrug, not comfortable reviewing my relationships over the years when I’m about to go down on this girl. “I’ve had a few girlfriends. Nothing too terribly serious.”
“Uh huh,” she drawls, lying back down so she can look at the ceiling once more. I grab her thighs, spreading them slowly so she’s on full display, pretty and pink and glistening. I drape first one leg, then the other over my shoulders, pressing my mouth against her inner thigh.
“Take off your sweatshirt, Jens,” I whisper against her skin, my breath, my closeness making goose bumps rise. “You’re gonna be here for a while.”
Jensen does as I tell her without hesitation, whipping that sweatshirt off so she’s once again naked. She truly has the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen. All long limbs and perfect proportions, breasts that are a generous handful and topped with rosy nipples. A round ass and assured hands. I could feast on her for hours.
Days.
I dip my head and nuzzle her pussy just before I start licking. She moans, scooting down so her pussy is even closer to my face and I give her all I’ve got, licking and sucking and teasing with my tongue. Sliding first one, then two fingers deep inside her, my lips attach to her clit. She bucks against my face, her fingers going into my hair like she never wants to let go, and I slip a third finger inside of her, stretching her wide. Filling her up.
This is all about her, this moment, right now. I just want her to come. I’m here to make her feel good. That’s it. No expectations, no selfishness either. I’m here, at her service.
Going down on her like this is making me hard too. I grip my cock with my free hand and stroke. Once, twice, establishing a rhythm, the same one as my fingers inside her. She grinds her pu
ssy against my mouth. I’m buried in her, and when I flick her clit in a particular way, her entire body goes tense before that orgasm washes over her, making her cry out.
I open my eyes, watching her fall apart against my lips. She’s so fucking sexy when she does that, completely uninhibited, offering me a glimpse of the real her. The raw, vulnerable version of Jensen. This is what I want, what I crave. The real girl, the sweet one who’s giving in bed, who wants me, who responds so beautifully to everything I do to her.
She’s not even finished with her climax and I’m crawling on top of her, slipping inside of her. I pound her hard, fuck her with everything I’ve got, grunting with every thrust, my vision hazy, my brain blank. I’m going on pure, primal instinct, and I feel like some sort of caveman, taking what’s mine.
That’s the weird thing about me and Jensen. Since the moment I first saw her, I felt like she belonged to me. There’s some sort of undefined connection to this girl that I want to explore further.
But first, I need to find out why she lies.
And what she’s hiding from me.
I’m leaving the gym when I first spot her, covered from head to toe in black as she waits under the building’s overhang and out of the rain. It’s stormed all day, and now it’s lightened to a faint drizzle, darkness fully settled in since it’s six o’clock on a mid-November evening.
Smiling, I approach Jensen, pleased that she waited for me. I told her I had basketball practice earlier, when we were texting. I even told her where I practiced, though pretty much everyone on campus knows what gym we use. I didn’t outright ask her, but I’d hoped she would’ve sought me out tonight. I still haven’t mentioned the family dinner in celebration of Addie’s birthday tomorrow at the Cheesecake Factory, and I wanted to ask her in person from the start, though I never really got around to it.
“What are you doing here? Waiting for me?” I ask when I get closer. She’s wearing black leggings and a giant oversized black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head, reminding me of some Star Wars overlord.
Jensen rolls her eyes, a tiny smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “No, I’m waiting for someone else. Of course, I’m waiting for you, Rhett.”
I pull her into a quick hug and she shoves her way out of it. Public displays of affection are definitely not her thing, but I’m trying. “I’m fucking starving.”
“How was practice?” She falls into step beside me and I tug the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as we walk together toward the parking lot.
“Good. Exhausting. Coach ran us extra hard.” We have a game on Thursday, though it doesn’t count. The season officially starts next week, and the team feels ready, though our coaches disagree, as usual.
“Oh. Maybe you’re too tired to hang out?” She glances up at me with those sad blue eyes, and I wonder if something happened today.
And would she even tell me about it.
“Nah, let’s go get something to eat. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
We get to my car and I drive to a nearby shopping center, where my favorite California poke bowl place is. The restaurant is packed, like it always is, and Jensen and I get in line, her nervous energy tipping me off that something’s up.
“You don’t like this place?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been here.” She studies the menu, frowning. “I don’t know what half this stuff is.”
For some reason, I’m happy she actually admitted that. I remember when I took her to the Italian restaurant, how lost she looked while staring at the menu. She didn’t know what to get, didn’t know how to pronounce the words, and I felt like an asshole, taking her there, making her feel uncomfortable when that was the last thing I wanted to do.
“I’ll help you, promise. This place is like Subway, but for poke bowls, since you pick all of your ingredients as you go down the line. And a poke bowl is like sushi, but all mixed together in a bowl. Do you like sushi?” I ask her.
“Never had it.”
This girl hasn’t experienced much but hardship and bullshit, I swear. “Well, the base is white or brown rice and wontons if you want, or a vegetable mixture. Then you add a protein, like shrimp or chicken, or ahi tuna, which is raw tuna.” She makes a face, but I keep talking. “And then you mix the protein with a sauce. They have all kinds—sweet, spicy, a miso sauce.”
“What’s miso?”
“It’s a spice, I think. Ever had miso soup?” When she shrugs, I continue. “Well, after the sauce, then you can add vegetables, add even more sauce if you want, crunchy toppings, and you’re done.”
She examines the bowls currently being made, her eyes lighting up with interest. “They look kind of good.”
“They’re fucking delicious.” She turns to look at me, a smile on her pretty face. “I’m a hardcore fan. Come here at least once a week, maybe twice.”
“Really,” she drawls, nudging her shoulder against my arm. “They’re that good, huh.”
“Trust me, they are. I wouldn’t steer you wrong,” I promise.
Her eyes take on a serious light. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s what I like about you.”
That admission felt real, like a damn gift, and unable to help myself, I sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her in close, pressing my lips against her forehead in a quick kiss. “I’m glad you waited for me after practice. It was a nice surprise.”
She gently pulls away, but not so far that my arm drops from her shoulders. I’m still holding her, an obvious public display of affection. This is progress. “I wanted to see you,” she admits.
“I’m glad.” So fucking glad, not that I can make a big deal about it. She’s sketchy, like a wild animal that’s close to being tamed. One wrong move and she might run away.
Or scratch your eyes out.
We get our bowls, me helping her out with her order as we move down the line, making recommendations based on her likes and dislikes. I pay for our bowls, Jensen getting us cups of water and our silverware, and when we finally meet at the table she’s settled on, I’m eager to see her reaction to her poke bowl.
“Try it,” I say, setting her bowl in front of her.
She picks up a forkful and tastes it, chewing slowly, her expression completely blank. I’m fidgeting in my chair, afraid she hates it, which is so stupid. Why should I care whether she likes poke bowls or not?
Because you want to share something with her, fuckwad. You like this girl. You want to have common ground with her.
“What do you think?” I ask when she still hasn’t said anything.
She swallows, takes a sip of her water, and then shoves another bite into her mouth. “It’s okay,” she mumbles, her mouth full.
I watch her eat, smiling as she keeps going. “You love it,” I tell her after about her sixth bite.
“I do,” she laughs, smiling. “Now stop staring at me and start eating.”
We eat, making idle conversation about the last few days. I haven’t seen her since late Sunday night, when her friend Savannah took her home after she got off work at the club. I wanted Jensen to stay the entire night, but she wouldn’t have it, saying she needed to get some actual sleep, versus endless bouts of sex.
Not that I’m complaining about all the sex we’re having, but I get what she’s saying.
We’re almost finished with our food when I finally decide to ask her about going with me to dinner tomorrow. “So it’s my sister’s birthday,” I start.
Jensen lifts her gaze from the bowl, her expression neutral. “How old will she be?”
“Seventeen. My family’s getting together for dinner tomorrow to celebrate.” I pause, letting my words sink in before I go on. “I’d like you to come with me.”
“What?” Her expression is nothing short of horrified, like I just suggested she should have sex with my dad or something equally twisted and weird. Definitely didn’t expect that strong of a reaction.
“It’s not a big deal,” I quickly reassure her. “Just
a typical family dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. It’ll be loud, my dad might tell bad jokes, my sister will be embarrassed because her boyfriend is there with us, and my stepmom will bitch about the bad service and how much she hates that place.”
“I don’t know…” Jensen starts, slowly shaking her head. At least that horrified expression is gone. Somewhat. “I don’t do well with family dinners.”
“Have you ever been to a family dinner with someone else?”
“No,” she admits quietly.
That’s what I thought. “Then how do you know you don’t do well with them?”
Jensen pushes her bowl away from her, like she’s lost her appetite. “This feels—serious, Rhett.”
“What, going to Cheesecake Factory? Trust me, it’s not.” Actually, it is, but I’m trying to play this off. I don’t bring girls around my family. It gives them expectations that I can’t meet. Like we’re serious when we’re not.
But there’s something about this girl that makes me want to push her into being in a serious relationship.
With me.
Am I crazy? Probably. One minute I can’t trust her, the next I want her to be my official girlfriend. I’m making no sense. But this girl does something to me. The more she pushes me away, the more I want to reel her back in.
Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment. I don’t know.
“You want to introduce me to your family?” Now she appears shocked.
“Well…yeah. You can be my buffer, so I won’t have to suffer with my family alone.” I smile and reach across the table to grab her hand, trying to charm her. “Come on, Jens. Say yes. It’ll be fun.”
She absently rubs her fingers against mine, her gaze seemingly far away, like she really has to think about this before she can answer. “Are you sure you want me there?”
“I asked you, didn’t I?” I give her fingers a squeeze, and she looks at me. “I want you to be there.”
A sigh escapes her and she rolls her eyes. “Can I get a piece of cheesecake?”
I take a deep breath, not realizing I’d been holding it. This girl leaves me on edge, I swear. “You can have an entire cheesecake if that’s what you want.”
His Wasted Heart Page 5
