She didn’t want the words to mean anything, but they pried at her hope, and filled her with an unwelcome warmth. “We barely know each other.” The protest sounded weak. Why was she arguing with him?
“I’m trying to change that.”
Even as her hope screamed not to push him away, she knew she had to. Gwen had been right. Diving into this so soon had been a mistake. She’d latched onto the first nice guy that came along after the horror that was Kent, and she wasn’t ready to deal with something serious. “It’s not going to work.” She almost choked on the words. “Even for as much as we say, we never say anything. You never even told me you’d been engaged.”
“I don’t talk about her, because she’s an ex. Gone and in the past. She left me a year ago, for her personal trainer. We fought all the time while she was here. I think my ego broke more than my heart when she walked out. I don’t talk about her, because I’ve moved on. What else do you want to know? I’ll tell you.”
“How do I know I’m different? Maybe you need to move on from me too. Having a couple of shared interests doesn’t make soul mates.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Really? A couple shared interests. Way to minimalize things.”
“What if it’s true? You don’t know. I sure don’t. Maybe we’ll fall in love from now until the end of time, and maybe we’ll go our separate ways in a week. I’m just saying you can’t tell me which it will be, and making an assumption in one direction or the other doesn’t help. Are you hearing me yet?”
“Are you hearing yourself? How is your approach any different than mine? Besides the fact I’d prefer to be optimistic instead of nihilistic.”
“I’m just…” Her comeback evaporated, as his meaning sank in. Damn it, she’d debated herself into a corner. How had they gone from discussing how to fix her career, to their relationship, anyway? She should bring the conversation back online, but she needed to curb the non-stop feeling her life was careening out of control. She couldn’t stop #5StarFUQ, but she could rein in whatever was going on with Ethan.
“Give me something better.” He stepped closer. “Okay, so you’re convinced we won’t work. At least give me a ‘my life is too complicated right now.’ Even ‘I don’t date gamers’ was better than telling me you don’t know, and even though you don’t hate the idea of us, you’re not interested in finding out if it’s possible.”
She shouldn’t be listening to him. Gwen’s words echoed in her head, reminding her this was a bad idea. Except none of her reasons for pulling away made any sense, and she was the one who had argued them out of efficacy. “I don’t have anything better.”
“I meant what I said before. I want you. I’m not sure how else to make that clear. Do you want me to stop? None of this vague answer bullshit. No being coy and walking away, or redirecting the conversation. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Say yes. That was all she had to do. If she told him to back off, he would.
“No. I don’t want you to leave me alone.” It felt better saying that than she thought possible. Everything else still sucked. She couldn’t pretend it was going away, but giving in to Ethan had yet to be a bad idea. Except giving in wasn’t the right phrase. Letting herself admit something was there felt more accurate.
“Thank Christ.” He closed the distance between them in a few short strides, and rested a hand at the base of her neck. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I’m not asking for your eternal commitment, but not talking to you was killing me.” He brushed his lips over hers. “And not touching you ranked right up there with unbearable, too.” He glided his mouth along her jaw, and to her ear.
Each feather-light kiss sent desire flaring through her. “This isn’t getting to know each other.”
“It is.” He nipped at her skin. “Now I know you have a freckle here.” He nudged her earlobe. “And a second piercing you don’t wear an earring in.”
She could push him away, but the tension of the last several days had built to critical inside her. Every gentle touch from him drew her bottled-up everything closer to the surface, until the dam she’d built to hold it back in broke. She pressed her entire frame against his, and dragged his mouth back to hers.
*
Jaycie’s hungry kiss flared under Ethan’s skin, tugging at his senses and filling his head with wicked ideas. He cradled her face in his palms, holding her captive and diving into her hunger. This wasn’t a solution to anything, but fuck if he didn’t need it. She dug her fingers into his chest, and his cock pressed into his zipper, begging to be free. Everything about her—the faint honeysuckle of her shampoo, the soft sighs she made each time they rubbed against each other—sent desire spilling through him.
His mind wasn’t functional enough for clever comebacks or witty banter. He grabbed her hips, and nudged her back with his body, until her butt collided with the couch. She shifted so she sat on the back, and wrapped her legs around his waist, to draw him in. When her hand slid between them, and she caressed his cock through his jeans, he thought his head might explode.
He kneaded her breast through her shirt. She pressed into his hand with a low groan, and tilted back her head. When he grazed her hard nipple with his thumb, she whimpered and ground harder against him. Each new movement felt more frantic than the last. She slid his zipper down, and his dick jerked free.
“I can’t do teasing today.” She stroked him through his boxers. “I need you inside me.”
Fuck. But not. “No condoms.” He wanted to make light of the fact he didn’t usually keep a large supply on hand, but the words didn’t form. Though he liked the thought of dropping to his knees and burying his face between her legs. God, he wanted her anyway he could have her. Especially to taste her, and make her scream in pleasure.
Her kiss sliced into his rambling thoughts. “I don’t care.” She still caressed his erection. “I’m on the pill. We’re both clean, right?”
He hadn’t even gone bareback with his fiancée most of the time, but he liked the idea of being buried inside Jaycie unsheathed. “I’m clean.”
She lifted her butt long enough for him to undo her shorts and drag them down her legs. She guided him toward her opening, grip hot and pussy already wet. He plunged in, and she pulled him closer with her legs, crying out when he filled her.
Their pace picked up quickly. “You feel amazing.” He kissed along her neck, and then sucked at the sensitive skin. She scraped her nails up his back, and matched him thrust for thrust.
Every time he pushed inside her, he hit something, and she groaned. He reached between them, and sought out her clit. Thumb rubbing the swollen nub, he ground against her. He wasn’t going to last long like this, and he wanted to hear her come first.
Her groans spilled out in short bursts, and he recognized the amazing sound she made when she was close to climax. He drove frantically against her, as her breathing became shallower. She clenched around him when she came, milking him and pushing him over the edge. He pounded hard, pelvis slamming into her, and grunted when he spilled inside her.
The desperation between them had faded, but not vanished. He wanted to carry her into the bedroom and lavish her with attention, so he could make her moan all night. He slowed his thrusting, and then stopped. She leaned her head on his shoulder. Her sigh was warm through his T-shirt. Neither of them spoke for several moments, while they caught their breath.
“This isn’t going away, is it?” Her quiet question was startling, in the still room.
She meant the review scandal, not how much he wanted her. Though that wasn’t going anywhere either. “I wish it was, but it’s not going to vanish on its own.”
“So much for that idea.” She buried her face on his chest and framed it with her balled-up fists.
“What do you want to do about it?” He wrapped his arms around her.
“I don’t know.”
The three words held so many conflicting emotions. As if she’d just laid her every fear and insecurity bare, just by s
peaking them. He squeezed her tighter. He wasn’t used to not having answers, and this was the one time he really needed them.
Chapter Eighteen
Jaycie opened the fridge, stared blankly for a few seconds, and then closed it again. She hadn’t even registered what was in there. She leaned back against it, unable to focus on anything. Her brain was a mishmash of jumbled thoughts and emotions. Every time she thought about Ethan, a smile tugged at her lips. There was no regret there. She tried not to dwell on how stubborn she’d acted at times. At least he was still by her side.
The whole #5StarFUQ thing was a different story, though. Just thinking the words made her gut churn. She wasn’t hungry after all. She padded back into the living room. New jobs still evaded her, the online chatter wasn’t dying down, and even though she knew she had to take a stand somehow, no solutions were forthcoming.
Someone knocked, and she drifted toward the door without thought. Her brain stalled, all other thought evaporating when she yanked it open and saw Kent on the other side.
She forced a smile into place. How quickly could she get rid of him? Why hadn’t she checked the peephole first? She was far more distracted than she’d realized to ignore her own safety that way.
“Hey, beautiful. I’m glad you’re home.” He toed the door the rest of the way open. Panic jolted through her, and she shoved back. He was stronger, and leveraged himself the rest of the way into the apartment, sending her stumbling back.
“I’m actually just on my way out.” She tried to reach around him to grab her keys, and he shifted with her, blocking her path.
“Don’t be like that.” His soothing tone held a sharp edge. “Is your white knight around?”
Ethan. Right. She could pretend he was home. “He’s in our bedroom.” She didn’t have a problem with the tiny white lie. Maybe it would convey just how off the market she was. Ethan had only stepped out for a little bit, anyway. Please let him get back soon.
Kent backhanded her. The sickening slap echoed through the room. He kicked the door shut. “Don’t lie to me, you stupid cunt. I watched him leave.”
Fear clawed through Jaycie’s veins. How long had Kent been outside watching?
He fisted a hand in her hair, jerked her head back, and pushed her until her body collided with a wall. “Now that I have your attention, we’re going to talk.”
“How about you leave now, send me a letter, and maybe I’ll reply.” She winced at the waver in her voice. At least she managed to successfully hold back the sob bubbling inside.
He pulled harder. “No. I want to know why the fuck you lied to us for so many years. We’re going to talk, you’re going to apologize, and then you’re going to come with me. I’ll take good care of you.”
Holy fuck, he was more batshit than she’d realized. Her insides curdled. She needed to get away from him. She kneed him in the nuts, as hard as she could. He grunted, lost his grip, and stumbled back.
Jaycie bolted around him, but stopped abruptly when he wrapped an arm around her waist. He wrenched her back, flung her into the dividing wall between the kitchen and living room, and drove his fist into her gut at high speed. All the air pushed from her body, and she dropped to her knees. He kicked her shoulder, twisting her to the side. Her back slammed into the floor, head bouncing against the carpet. He straddled her, and her fear pushed all reasonable thought aside. She struggled and twisted beneath him, but couldn’t find enough leverage to break free.
Tears spilled from her eyes, and she screamed, until he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed. “I’ll fucking kill you for that.” His threat ached in every inch of her body.
Why couldn’t she remember how to get out of this? She’d seen self-defense videos online. None of them came to mind. Her voice strangled and died, and the edges of her vision blurred as he squeezed tighter. Where were the neighbors? Or anyone?
*
Ethan dropped the bag of sodas he was carrying, and broke into a dead run before he registered the scream he’d just heard was Jaycie’s. He bolted up the stairs, and shoved the apartment door open, fury growing as her yells faded and choked off. Red clouded his vision, when he saw her pinned to the floor, and some guy he’d never seen before on top of her. Ethan yanked the other man back by the shirt, and plowed his shoulder into the assailant’s gut. He drove him back, and punched any soft surface he could find.
The attacker struggled underneath him, landed a solid hit on his jaw, and Ethan’s vision danced with stars. Ethan growled, and dug an elbow into his windpipe. Every few seconds, one of them landed a punch, but Ethan wasn’t keeping track. Bruised knuckles and face didn’t matter. He was going to throttle this guy.
“Stop.” Jaycie’s rough voice cut through the scuffle. “Get out, or I shoot.”
Ethan looked up long enough to see she had a gun trained on the two of them. He stepped back.
“Bullshit,” the guy barked.
Jaycie’s grip was steady, as she leveled the barrel at him. Red welts glared on her neck, and her words rasped from her throat. “You know what they show in movies and games isn’t accurate, right?” Her words were as even and steady as her aim. “This fucker has hollow-point forty-fives. I don’t have to hit anything vital, just bone, and it’ll shatter. Your leg. Your arm.” She leveled the weapon at his crotch. “Anything.”
Her attacker raised his hands, and edged toward the door. A scowl twisted his features, more than the rapidly swelling eye. “Fucking psycho bitch.” Seconds later, he slammed the door on his way out.
The moment he was gone, Jaycie sank to the floor with a sob. Ethan threw the deadbolt shut, put on the security chain, and dropped to the ground next to her. The gun wasn’t real. He’d recognized it the second he saw it. She’d taken it off his shelf of models.
She was shaking as he drew her into his arms. “I know you were winning, but I wanted him out of here.” Her assured tone was gone.
He traced his fingers over the already-forming bruises on her neck, not making contact. “I’m fine with that. You need ice on this.”
“We need to call the police.”
“I’ll do that, and get you ice. You need to sit down. Somewhere that’s not the floor.”
He helped her climb to her feet. Another shudder ran through her, and she gasped. She threw herself against him, entire body shaking each time she sobbed. The jagged edge to her cries made the sound claw at his chest. He trailed his fingers through her hair and held her, not sure what else to say.
When the crying slowed and stopped, he helped her to the couch, and grabbed two ice packs, one for her and one for him. A quick conversation with dispatch, and he was assured the police would be right there.
Ethan struggled to temper rage with compassion. He didn’t know what to do, and the impotence devoured him. Holding Jaycie, making sure she was all right, didn’t seem adequate. Was he even allowed to do that? She wasn’t pulling away, but maybe she didn’t dare fight him off, or she was in shock.
By the time the police arrived—the same guy who took her statement a week ago and told her he couldn’t do anything—Ethan couldn’t convince himself to do more than pace.
The interview went differently this time, as the officer dragged countless answers from both of them. Was Jaycie sure there was no sexual assault? Did she need to be tested for anything? Were they both sure there were no real guns in the house?
At least, within a few moments of arriving, the officer called dispatch and sent someone to Kent’s address to arrest him. But over an hour later, Ethan felt twice as beaten up as he had before the guy arrived.
“I’m sorry.” Anderson looked sincere, almost pained, as he stood to leave. “I wish we could have done something before this.”
“Not as much as we do.” Ethan pointed him toward the door.
Jaycie just shook her head, and pulled back into the cushions, hugging herself.
What was he supposed to do? Comfort her? Let her ride this out alone? Get to Kent’s house before the pol
ice? The growing list of non-options devoured Ethan’s thoughts. What now?
Chapter Nineteen
Friday night, after the assault, Ethan was been nothing but sweet and doting. Sitting with Jaycie in the emergency room while a doctor checked her throat, keeping her distracted from the horror of the afternoon, never leaving her side while she worked with forensics and gave her statements to the police, and wrapping her in his arms while she drifted to sleep that night.
Saturday was been more of the same, with him taking her mind off things whenever reality surged in too fast. By Sunday, she all but ordered him to do things besides watch over her. When she checked her phone, she discovered photos of her injuries from the police report had been leaked, and suddenly she wished she’d let him hover a little longer and distract her. She’d tortured herself further by reading the tweets. “Whore got what she deserved,” and “Wish I’d been the one to choke the stupid cunt. I would have done it right.”
Each new message twisted her insides into tighter knots, and clouded her thoughts until all she could do was stare at the vicious words. What had she done, to make so many people hate her? Did they have a point? She couldn’t let herself think like that, but that didn’t stop the out-of-control doubt from mowing her down.
When Ethan figured out what she was doing, he confiscated her phone, and assured her tons of people were on her side too. That the support was unbelievable.
As she shooed him out the door Monday morning, it was with the strongest ambivalence she’d ever experienced. She needed to breathe, but was terrified of being alone in the apartment, even if Kent was in jail. Especially since he might be out on bail by that afternoon. She flipped the deadbolt into place as soon as Ethan was gone, and slid the security chain on. He could knock when he got home.
The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1) Page 12
