Caught in the Middle

by Kira Barker

  “What I want to say is that it didn’t bother me when Simon and you started your thing. Sure, it was strange to reconcile you with the picture of his usual playthings, but just because that’s not what gets my rocks off, I can still accept it. And do. It was nice to have you around more, and the promise of fresh bagels didn’t hurt. What was different to any other time I’ve shared a chick with him was that it was a lot more comfortable for me, because with you, I didn’t have to worry about the usual shit.”

  I couldn’t resist that.

  “Like what? What exactly do you worry about when you tag team a girl?”

  I got a ghost of a smile for my effort.

  “For one, there was not the usual guessing of how we should balance things. You know, if she’s a chick I’ve been banging who was curious for more cock, I’d usually take the lead and Simon kept his other interests on the back burner. If she was one of his subs, he’d take charge and I’d just do support. It was a little weird at first with you when we started out like that, but he let me take the stage completely after he fucked your face. He never did that before, but you didn’t mind, and neither did I. And there’s always that thing about either of us getting a bit too comfy with each other and then the girl freaks out. Not the best way to end it.”

  He looked at me with something akin to challenge, but I just held his gaze evenly.

  “Of all the things you’ve done today, fucking Simon is what least upsets me.”

  Jack snorted, and for a moment I couldn’t quite make sense of the expression on his face.

  “Or let him fuck you?”

  Just because I was pissed and felt betrayed didn’t mean that I couldn’t still be curious.

  “Gotta try everything at least once before you diss it, right?”

  He probably tried to make that sound light, but that was not what I clearly heard in his voice. And, just like that, the elephant in the room turned into a dinosaur.

  For several seconds neither one of us said something, until Jack straightened in his chair, his fingers squeezing mine gently.

  “Then we had our second threesome at the lake, and that was about when things got complicated.” He paused briefly, but when no witty comeback from me followed, he went on. “I don’t know how it was for you, but for me it felt like coming home. Not just because I finally got to put an end to years worth of guessing, but because everything, with you, with Simon, with both of you at the same time just felt like it should be. No need to pretend, no need to hide, just do whatever I wanted, be myself, one hundred percent. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.”

  A deep-set melancholy made me hesitate for a few heartbeats, but in the end I nodded.

  “I felt it, too.”

  “And after that, everything went straight to hell.”

  It only took those few words for his voice to break, and seeing the tears return to his eyes was like an iron fist clenching around my heart. I squeezed his fingers, but wasn’t even sure he noticed. When he looked at me again, his gaze was filled with sadness.

  “I get why Simon and you stepped up your game. I really do. But did you have to completely ignore me just because he was giving you what I can’t? I was so sure that we had a moment there at the lake, that you felt exactly the same about me as I did about you, and suddenly I’m invisible to you?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Yes, you did!” he ground out, then glared at the ceiling when looking at me became too painful. “It was as if you’d used that as a way of saying goodbye to everything we’ve ever had. You rarely talked to me again, you had no time to just hang out, and whenever I could pull you away from him, all you gushed about was him. Simon this, Simon that, and oh, he makes me come like nobody else!”

  “I never—”

  “You didn’t need to!” he cut me off before I could get more than two words in edgewise. “The attic might be soundproof, but it doesn’t help when the door’s not shut tight. I have no idea if he did that on purpose or if it was an accident, but I heard you. Scream from pain, scream with lust, you name it. And I couldn’t help myself—I was stupid enough to walk up those fucking stairs and take a look. Kind of horrified me that I could get such a boner from watching him do all that to you, but I didn’t really care. And the next time I didn’t even wait until you were halfway into the scene, but jerked off as soon as you were out of the room, then followed you. And came again, way before you, if you’re wondering. And then was that fucking day I met you in the train, and I thought that with all three of us around and you obviously needing some distraction, we could have some fun together again. But you didn’t even listen to me, and Simon almost kicked me out of the house before he went to town on you.”

  I didn’t know what to make of the fact that he’d watched us, but that last bit made me decidedly uncomfortable. It explained his reaction to some point, but also made it even less understandable.

  “Did you watch that one, too?”

  He nodded, still not looking at me.

  “I did.”

  “Then why…” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

  Jack let his head fall onto his free hand before he turned it, his eyes seeking mine.

  “Because I realized just how far you’d withdrawn from me. I never had a problem with anything you did up there. The only thing that made me uncomfortable was my own reaction to seeing you hurt like that, but I guess it’s because I knew you wanted it, and my cock’s too stupid to make a difference between what gets me going and what doesn’t. It was obvious that what he did, he did because you urged him on, and he stopped as soon as you had enough. And then you broke down and all I wanted was to run in and be there for you, but you clearly just wanted him, or else you would have come downstairs and curled up with me.”

  He stopped and let out a harsh breath.

  “Wanna know what’s the worst? Ever since Simon got his kinky shit on, I’ve known the one thing that can throw him completely off balance. Don’t know how much he told you about that, but the shit he went through with that cunt who got him into this wasn’t pretty. I don’t always get along with Beth, but I’ll always be grateful to her for the fact that she took him in and set his head straight again. I don’t know if he even realized how much being with her changed him. It’s as if she somehow reached inside his head, kicked out all the stupid, defensive shit he’d built up over the years, all his doubts and insecurity, and turned him from a somewhat awkward boy into a man. And that was long before she told him to stop wussing out and pick up the whip himself. I’m not saying that he wouldn’t have eventually gotten his shit together on his own, but she set him on the fast track to get that done in record time. And he’s good at what he does, even if things don’t always work out with his subs.”

  His eyes fell back onto our still joined hands.

  “Wanna know my guess? Same as I’ve been screwing around with random girls for years, I think he never really got in too deep with any of his subs. Just wasn’t the right match that he was biding his time for.”

  He let that hang between us for a moment before he went on, his voice hardening now.

  “I knew that the one thing he’s always been scared shitless of is that he’ll make the same mistakes as that cunt did with him. He never said it to me, but Beth more than once ranted that, his given consent aside, the bitch pretty much abused him. If there’s one thing you kinksters are adamant about, it’s respect and consent. Guess it makes sense with the stunts you pull on each other, but I’ve seen how it shaped him, and it’s obvious that what you two do is good for you, too.”

  That admission surprised me, also because it wasn’t exactly what I felt sometimes.

  “You think? I completely lost it on my mom’s death day, and it hasn’t been that bad in years.”

  “Because you never really let yourself grieve? Don’t you dare deny it—I’ve been there every single year. I’m not putting the blame on anyone, but I’ve watched, helpless and frustrated, how your father just couldn’
t handle it and you had to support him, rather than the other way round. You’ve always had to be strong, and eventually that became second nature to you. But it’s not healthy if you can never just let go and let someone else be there to comfort you, you know?”

  He bit his lip while I considered that, and went on before I reached any kind of conclusion.

  “The rest was easy. Accusing him of abusing you worked in both directions. It scared the shit out of you and made him insecure as hell, and I thought it would be easy pickings then. What I didn’t count on was that he could actually pull his head out of his ass and act like a normal human being for once, and my plan backfired. I thought that if I rejected you, you’d either go home and call me later, or you’d go to him and he would be helpless and just make everything worse. Either way, I could then swoop in and pick up the pieces. Then I’d have my in, and you’d finally see what you have in me and…”

  He wasn’t able to finish, and my grip on his hand was loose enough that when he pulled away, I was too slow to stop him. Getting up, he started pacing, and stopped with his back turned to me.

  “I understand if you never want to have anything to do with me ever again. Or just for now. I know that I screwed up. Massively. In pretty much every way possible. I don’t deserve your forgiveness—hell, I don’t think I even have the guts to ask for it, but the idea of living without you just kills me. I know… I can’t…”

  Whatever else he might have wanted to say got drowned out by a loud sob, his entire body heaving with it. Seeing him in so much pain hurt a lot more than anything that had transpired today, and I was on my feet before the conscious thought of going over to him even formed in my mind. Stepping up to him, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed myself against him, hugging him for all I was worth. He let out another soul-wrenching sob before he turned around, enfolding me in an embrace that was so warm and familiar that it hurt on a different level.

  Yes, he’d screwed up. He’d betrayed me, he’d hurt me like no one had ever in my life, maybe even more than anyone could ever hurt me. But just listening to him say those words, thinking of a world without him in it, hurt even more.

  I felt myself start to cry, and without the will to fight it, the tears streamed down my face and soaked into his T-shirt. When he noticed, his arms tightened around me and I think he cried harder, too, until we were one pathetic, shaking heap of misery. That seemed to have become a thing for me lately, but even the irony of that couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

  Then I realized what would, and from there, taking action was a surprisingly small step.

  Reaching up, I touched my hands to the sides of his face, forcing him to look at me, strands of blond hair partly obscuring his eyes. I tried brushing them away, but that only made Jack turn his head so he could nuzzle my hand, effectively hiding from my gaze. That wouldn’t do for another reason, so I shifted my grip on him to pull his head down to me and pressed my lips against his.

  I felt him startle and actually heard his next sob because he tried to pull away, but I didn’t let him, and it only took the sensation of my tongue sneaking into his mouth for him to stop protesting and deepen the kiss. His arms around me shifted, now not just hugging me but holding me close, his palms hot through the fabric of my shirt.

  It was a slow kiss at first, and we both had to break away too soon because snot and tears had led to some disgusting buildup, but as soon as I could breathe again, my mouth found his, and there was nothing left of his previous tentativeness anymore. One of his hands stoked up to cradle the back of my head while the other settled firmly at my lower back, making sure that I couldn’t get away so easily again—not that I wanted to. Things heated up quickly then, and before long, just kissing him and bunching his T-shirt up in my hands wasn’t enough.

  Pulling away, panting heavily, I grabbed his hand instead and started tugging him toward my room, while trying to clean up the mess on my face on my right shoulder. Jack took a step, then stopped, bringing me to a sudden halt. Turning around, I gave him a glare that made him bring up his other hand defensively, which looked kind of weird because he still seemed only a step or two away from starting to bawl all over again.

  “I’m not protesting. I just want to know what this is.”

  Instead of answering, I jerked him along with me, but once we’d stumbled into my room, I let go of him and shut the door, leaning against it while I tried to sort out the chaos inside my head. Jack waited patiently, looking a little lost.

  “I’m not over this yet,” I started, then felt like kicking myself in the teeth when I saw his shoulders sag with defeat. “Your betrayal, I mean. And I mean it when I say that I fully intend to make you suffer until it gets ridiculous, and for that I need you to stick around, right? And knowing you, you’ll keep finding excuses to keep me pissed off, so I might as well give up on the idea of getting rid of you altogether. Life would be too boring.”

  He took that with a stoic look on his face, not giving me the smile I hoped my teasing would bring back. Well, no one had ever accused me of being a smooth talker. I’d always been better with bluntness, anyway, so I walked up to him and shoved my hands under his T-shirt, feeling his skin so tantalizingly warm and smooth until I managed to nudge him into taking the stupid garment off. It fell to the floor beside us and I ignored it, reaching up to link my fingers behind his head after pulling it down far enough to touch my forehead to his.

  “I’m not kicking you out, Jack. I’m not letting you go, I’m not giving up on you. On us. Okay? But I’m raw inside, and I feel like we’ve done all the talking we can right now, and I need this. I need you right now.”

  He didn’t reply, but then that wasn’t necessary. His lips found mine eagerly while his arms came around me, but unlike I’d expected, he didn’t get right to divesting me of my clothes.

  We ended up on the bed, still unmade from when I’d rolled out of it half-awake yesterday, in a tangle of limbs, our lips barely separating for more than a second. Then he was leaning over me, deepening his kisses further, but before I could reach for the zipper of his pants, he stopped, his face buried in the side of my neck. For a moment I thought he was going to tickle me or something, but then I realized that he was crying again, giving my heart another painful stab.

  “Oh, Jack,” I mumbled into his hair and just held him.

  “I don’t deserve you. Neither of you, but you even less than him.”

  He didn’t have to explain that he was talking about Simon, and with a hint of surprise I realized that it didn’t even rub me the wrong way to hear him acknowledge so much. Coming first still felt good, even though it dragged a different kind of unease back up in my mind.

  “Shhh, it’s okay,” I tried to assuage him, stroking his hair slowly.

  “It’s not. I know that it’s not, and I have no fucking clue how to make it right again, if I can even—”

  A finger to his lips made him stop, and he looked at me with so much longing and desperation that it might have swayed my heart had I not already forgiven him.

  “We’ll find a way. Together. You weren’t alone in dragging us down, and you won’t have to be the one to make it all work again, either.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” I said, hoping that the small smile I managed didn’t look forced. “If we want to find a way, there will be a way, and I really want to. And I want you. Not just now, and not just until I feel I’ve badgered you enough for being such an idiot. You’re my idiot, and you will always remain that unless you don’t want to anymore.”

  “Never,” he breathed against my lips, then closed the distance between us, and for a blissful time, neither of us felt the need to talk, or even think.

  At first I’d expected things to feel similar to my tumble with Simon the last time I’d cried my heart out, but of course it wasn’t. Being with Jack never felt like being with Simon, or vice versa. I couldn’t even put a finger on what exactly was different, it just was. The way he looked at me, touched me
, how he felt under my palms, how he moved—how he made love to me. Because that’s what we did, and although I felt like I was the last one to actually realize it, that’s what it had been with Simon, too. And on some level I hated myself because even when slow and tender turned to needy and passionate, I couldn’t stop thinking about another guy than the one who was very successfully making me forget about everything else in the world. But only a little.

  That sentiment grew exponentially when I looked at the alarm clock on my nightstand a while later and realized that although what I wanted to do was remain cuddled up with Jack, I’d have to leave here soon if I didn’t want to be too late.

  I hadn’t even started to extract myself from his arms—and leg—when I heard Jack sigh, his hold on me tightening for a moment.

  “You’re going to see him now, aren’t you?”

  I told the pang of guilt his words ignited in the back of my mind to shove it.

  “Someone has to. Might as well be me.”

  He tensed, but instead of keeping me locked in his arms, he let go, flopping onto his back beside me. Rolling over, I looked at his face carefully, but he didn’t look half as upset as I’d expected, but mostly defeated.

  “I’m not going to run off with Simon to leave you here, alone.”

  “And what if he asks you to do exactly that? What’s your answer then?”

  A question I didn’t even want to think about, so I didn’t.

  “The entire mess we’re in right now happened because none of us said even half of what we should have said, so avoiding each other won’t help at all. Have a little faith in me. Besides, how could I leave all this behind?”

  I pointedly poked a finger into his obliques, making him grunt but also look a little mollified.

  “Promise?”

  “The only promise that you’ll get out of me is the promise that I will kick your ass if you don’t stop moping around soon.”

  With that, I got up, fetching my panties and shirt from the floor before I went into the bathroom. I splashed some water in my face, but there was nothing I could do about my puffy, red eyes, or the hickey high on my neck, just below my ear. A shower would have been nice, but I wanted to get this behind me before the book party started, and I was already running late for that.