by M. C. Cerny
Fleur is smart. I will give her that. She’s also nice, and is definitely not the broken, complicated mess I am It hurts, but I trust Jack enough to know he wouldn’t have pushed this if it wasn’t important. I don’t go into counseling gently. My personality is defensive by nature, making me a bull in a china shop at times.
I talk about the last year. Meeting Jack. Being with Jack. Learning that Dean Andrews, who found out about us, told him he wouldn’t say anything if Jack didn’t return to teach at the university, and Jack agreeing to it. The guilt. The shame. The attack. My anxiety of getting up on the podium to accept my long-awaited diploma. There’s so much to take in and so much unfinished. Fleur listens. She doesn’t tell me what to do. She doesn’t berate me when I tell her that I still crave the pills I took at my lowest moment, but I don’t have the desire to hurt myself anymore. I can’t believe I had such dark thoughts over an issue that was out of my control and not my fault. She encourages me to join a support group she runs one night a week and, miraculously, I agree. I figure if I’m crazy, let me be crazy with some like-minded people who get where I’m coming from.
It probably helps that when I leave the session, Jack is there to scoop me into his arms. “Missed you.”
“I was in there for fifty-five minutes, Jack.”
He holds my hand and we walk to the car. “Yeah, but an hour without you is an hour my heart hurts.”
“Okay, Professor Sappy. I was kind of hoping it was the dress you were thinking about.” Jack carefully pins me against the car. My ribs still hurt, and my hand is still in a cast to stabilize the broken fingers.
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the dress, too.”
“Oh, good.” I lean into Jack, licking his ear and whispering, “Because I’m not wearing any underwear right now.” He groans, making me laugh a wicked little chuckle. Jack helps me get inside the car, then he speeds home.
Inside the apartment, I lead him into the bedroom filled with modern furniture, which is so different from our nice Victorian house. We slip off our shoes, drop all other clothes, and Jack reclines back on the bed, his cock jutting proudly from his hips.
Clucking, I point at it with my good hand, my other one resting against my chest. “Why is it that women have to do all the work?” With some help, I get on top on him and Jack grunts, raising his arms over his head.
“Because if I touch you right now, I’m afraid I might hurt you, sweetheart. It’s been so long that I’m content to wait.”
I pinch his chest, letting him know that his answer is unacceptable. “If I have to wait any longer, I might melt into a puddle on the floor.” I raise myself up and slide over Jack, taking him inch by inch. A few months feels like forever as my body stretches to accommodate him.
He groans. “Such a visual, my love.”
“You’ve kept me primed and horny since January. What’s a girl to do? I can only satisfy myself in the shower so many times before my fingers wear out.”
“Poor baby, and now they’re broken.” Jack takes my hand, tenderly kissing each finger. I won’t have any lingering physical problems from the attack, but my body is still sore, reminding me of it every time I move.
As he uses his hands to help me, I slowly move up and down, my inner muscles squeezing him. I’m too far gone with desire to try anything coy, our bodies gently rocking together.
“I want to go to Italy after graduation.”
Jack’s hand covers one breast, rubbing the sensitive nipple. “Are we really discussing them right now?” He gyrates, making me squeal when he hits the spot that has missed him so much.
“Yes… Oh, Jack.” My good arm supports me as I try to lean over and take him deeper.
“Baby, I’m going to blow my load.”
“That’s classy, love.” I use muscles I thought dormant, eliciting a guttural sound, and Jack’s cock seems to enlarge.
“What were you asking?” He rolls his hips again, making me forget. Oh, right. Italy.
“Jack…” He’s thrusting more quickly now. My ribs hurt, but the pleasure outweighs anything else I’ve felt before.
“Let them work it out on their own.” We’re panting and grunting. Finally, I let my release coat his dick, and he shoots deep within me.
“But I love them both, and poor Aiden…” I doubt it helps my case that I say his name on a groan.
“Edith…,” Jack growls.
“Just imagine the sex we could have in Rome…near the Vatican, on a gondola.”
“You don’t even have a passport,” he grunts, thrusting up a final time.
“But you could rush one, couldn’t you? Pretty please?” I lay my head on his chest, careful to not bump my broken fingers too much against my sore ribs. His hand plays with my hair and traces the chain of my necklace. “I love you, Jack Hamilton.”
“I love you, Edith Willows.” When I hear him sigh and he gives me a slight growl, I know he has agreed.
As I drift off into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in months, I kind of wonder how sex on a gondola will work.
Jack
I watch Edith move around the apartment with renewed energy. Of course I said yes to Italy. Anything to keep her from mentioning the lovebirds again during our intimate time. I just might drag her inside a confessional at the Vatican. I’m sure we won’t be the last overzealous couple to renew our faith…or something like that.
Each day is new struggle, but we get through it. When we get back, I’m hoping we can talk to the designer, making some changes to the house.
Graduation was tough. I didn’t walk in the ceremony as adjunct staff, but I did watch my girl walk across the stage and get her diploma. I was so damn proud of her. In the back of the auditorium, I could swear I saw her mother, but she was long gone by the time Edith exited the stage. She never mentioned it and I didn’t bring it up for fear it would open a can of worms our fragile relationship couldn’t tolerate yet.
She ended up testifying against Daniel, Sam guiding her the whole way. The son of a bitch is scared for life. He was ugly before, but now his face shows it. Bastard got his dose of karma, and Edith got her closure.
Aiden still suffers from the poison. He’s gaunt and sickly, but is slowly recovering. When he was released from the hospital, we made him come back to the apartment with us. Edith thinks he’s suffering from a broken heart, so she insists on getting him bacon cheeseburgers from the Grease Lounge. She calls it “food for the soul”, and who am I to argue? I think the worst part for Aiden is not having Shelby to nurse him back to health.
I don’t have it in me to ask him to move out. Dude needs to pull up his man pants, but I’m not about to tell my girlfriend that. I’m not stupid. However, we’re getting on a plane and heading to Italy in less than twelve hours…
Author’s Note
This story encompasses several themes my main characters struggle with during their journey to a HEA…sexual assault, suicidal ideation, and substance abuse. I kept the details of these events on the lighter side because it is not my intention to trigger anyone who has experienced similar circumstances. Rather, I want the reader to see a glimpse into a survivor’s mindset. Often times, we feel we are being helpful to those around us by trying to be the “problem solver”. It can be difficult to know what to do, what to say, or how to handle their behavior. The best thing, sometimes the only thing, you can do is offer support, love, and listen without judgment. I’ve provided more information for those wishing to follow-up.
For sexual assault and abuse, call 1-800-656-HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area, or go to: https://www.rainn.org.
If you or someone you know is struggling with or showing signs of suicide, please reach out, get help, and know that it can get better. For resources, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255), or go to: http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org.
For substance abuse resources, please call the Substance Abuse and
Mental Health Services Administration's (SAMHSA) National Drug and Alcohol Treatment Service at 1–800–662–HELP (4357) for information on hotlines, counseling services, or treatment options in your state. Drug treatment programs by state also may be found online at: http://www.findtreatment.samhsa.gov.
~*~ Connect With Me ~*~
I love interacting with my readers. I send out official news and announcements, teasers, and contests in my monthly Newsletter. My general shenanigans happen on Facebook, so check me out there. I like to post fun things I find, good books I read, and plenty of cat videos. If you don’t love cats, I’m not sure we can be friends, but I’ll try to be open-minded. If you like to see what I’m up to with my running and cooking Pinterest fails, I document them from time to time on Twitter and my Blog. Email me at [email protected]. Of course, if you have any thoughts on the books I write and you’d like to share, kindly leave a review.
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Other Titles by M.C. Cerny
The Reed Series
Flashpoint
Pulse Point (Releases 2015)
The Monroe Matchmakers Series
Under The Mistletoe
The Naughty List
Own The Night (Releases 2015)
Standalone
Summer Ever After
The Defined Series
Deviation
Contusion (Releases 2016)
Night Owl – The Complete Serial
Night Owl
On Air
Radio Silent
Song Bird
Wicked Games
Acknowledgments
To the ladies in the Hot For Teacher anthology, where it all started: Mandee, Phalla, Niquel, Missy, Carly, Amalie, Elle, Vicki, Liv, and Nicole. You ladies rocked it fierce! Thanks for taking a risk on me. I’m honored to have worked with you.
This full-length novel is for the readers who asked for more, took a risk on me, and let me write my story the way it needed to be heard. Thank you.
There are many people who have my thanks and appreciation each time a project releases. Without your support, it would be impossible to write these stories. Many thanks go to Kim Young, my editor. I owe her a roll of duct tape and a crate of wine. Sommer from Perfect Pear Creative Covers for listening to my ideas and creating a gorgeous cover. Mandy Hollis MHPhotography for taking absolutely lovely photos for the cover. Thanks to my personal assistant, Angie, and my entire crew of author BFFs. Special thanks go to my street team… You ladies rock. XOXO
