My breath catches in my throat and my eyes slam shut.
“Aw, hell.” He grinds his hard-on against my ass in perfect time with the thrust of his fingers.
I fantasize that he’s braced above me, his tattoos dancing over muscles that coil and flex with every plunge of his hips. I imagine him dipping down to take my mouth, our tongues sliding together as we drink every last drop from one another. The powerful command he’d have over his body as he slams into me again, and again, and even harder before—My belly tightens and my toes curl.
“Oh my . . .” I throw my head back as the orgasm rips through my body. Blinding light flashes behind my eyelids as the intensity of it wracks me with jolts of pleasure. Heat washes over me in wave after wave of euphoria.
Slowly coming back into my body, I’m aware of Rex’s hand, no longer between my legs, but splayed against my belly. His thigh is back, pushed in tight and supporting my weight. He’s holding me up.
Every muscle feels like Jell-o, so I allow his assistance and fall back into his support. He releases my hands and the tingling of blood rushing back to my extremities is oddly heady.
I’m falling softly back to earth, awareness coming back to my body and mind.
All I had to do was keep my mouth shut and give him complete control. Instead I forced him—not so forcefully—to get me off. My cheeks flame. How could I be so selfish?
“Rex, I’m . . . I messed up, didn’t I?”
He buries his face into my hair and breathes in deep, but doesn’t answer.
“Rex?” I can feel the pound of his heart, erection still rock hard, and his heavy breathing against my back. “Babe, talk to me.”
Nothing.
Thirteen
Mind over matter is what they say
Make the hurt go away
Time heals
I make appeals
And still I suffer anyway.
Rex
What have I done? So consumed by the lure of Mac’s body and the gentle sounds falling from her lips, I was out of my mind with need. Even now, my arms wrapped tight around her and my thigh firmly snuggled between her legs, her body calls to mine.
Nausea savagely slices through my gut. I swallow to push down the sour burn in the back of my throat. I lost control. The evidence of that is standing proudly and pressed against her lower back. It throbs with awareness. We’re alone. My bed is just yards away from where we’re standing. I bite my lip to keep from rocking my hips and giving in to be consumed by the aftermath of my sickness.
The stabbing pain in my gut twists. No. I can’t do that to her. The best thing I can do is get her away from me before I do something stupid.
“You’re scaring me.” Her soft-spoken words spear through me, adding to the shame.
God, she must think I’m a freak. Slamming her against the wall face first, holding her body captive. I fucked this up. My one chance, the opportunity to feel normal with a girl who doesn’t shy away from my quirks, and I messed it up, dirtied what we had by losing my shit.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t pull back from the heat of her body, afraid of the fear and disappointment I’ll see in her eyes.
She lightly runs her hand against my forearm. Cautious. “Nothing to be sorry about.” Her other hand reaches back, curling around the back of my head. “It’s okay. I’m here. We’re okay.”
Her words wash over me, and I exhale a shaky breath. She continues to comfort me in firm and stable strokes of her hands. My muscles respond, relaxing a fraction with every pass of her tiny hands.
“I want to hold you. Can I turn around?”
Tension returns to my shoulders. Hold me?
“Let me help you.”
Help me what?
Knowing I can’t keep her pressed against the door all night, I drop my hands from her belly and step back. I can’t bear to look at her, so I study my socked feet. I feel a tiny shift in the air and know she’s turned around and looking at me. I’ve never felt a stronger urge to crumble beneath the weight of a person’s eyes.
“Rex, you didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me?” The anger that laces her words seems misplaced.
Confusion, I’d understand. Disappointment, maybe. But anger?
“I . . .” Fuck! What can I say? I don’t want her to be mad.
“Look at me,” she says, the thickness in her demand is unmistakable.
As much as her body responded to my touch and she begged for more, she couldn’t possibly want me, not like that. I hook my finger into the elastic band at my wrist and snap it hard. I pull my chin up and give her my eyes. It’s what she deserves after what I did. Her narrowed eyes study my wrist. I snap the elastic again and she jerks.
“What are you . . .?” She gives me her eyes, and I force myself to hold her stare. She looks scared, but not of me, more like for me. “Please tell me you don’t regret what happened between us.”
Regret? No. I’d suffer the internal war that wages every time I touch Mac just so I could feel her, but the battlefield is a bloody mess in the wake of all that happened. The shame and guilt that rises up from nowhere reminds me how sick I am. It screams that I’m not good enough for anyone, especially her.
“I’d never regret you.”
The flush of her cheeks darkens. “Thank you.”
I shake my head. “For what?”
“For trusting me enough to show me where you get your adrenaline fix.” She dips her chin, peering up at me with a shy smile. “Never thought jumping off a building would be fun.”
I nod and shrug. The change of subject seems to help me relax.
“Then you brought me here, let me into your home. You fed me.” She steps forward. “But the best part was that you trusted me enough to show me what you need.” Her eyes are soft. Accepting. Proud? “I want you to know that . . .” A slow and sexy-as-fuck smile pulls at her lips. She lifts one eyebrow.
My breath catches in my throat.
“I liked seeing that side of you.” She cups my jaw and runs her thumb along my lower lip, lingering at my lip ring. Her eyes follow the path of her thumb and flare. “A lot.”
Fuckin’ A. She liked it. I mean her body seemed to like it, but the body is twisted as shit. It has desires that the brain won’t get on board with. I should know.
“You don’t think I’m a freak?”
She lifts her other hand to my face and holds me there. “Never say that around me again.”
“I’m only—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is you think about yourself is not how I think about you.”
“Mac, you don’t know—”
“I do know!” She cringes and drops her chin. “What I mean is I don’t claim to have all the answers. What I know is . . .” Her head tilts back and she looks at me. “I like you and everything we do together. I like you exactly how you are, and nothing you do or say can change that.”
I give her words a second to sink in and only then realize that the shit I felt earlier, the feeling of inadequacy and loathing, is gone. How does she do that? Make me go from semi-suicidal to downright . . . happy?
“Nod if you understand,” she says, using my own words from earlier to playfully remind me she’s thinking about our hookup.
I exhale and the ghost of a grin ticks my lips. “Yeah, I understand.” Taking her hand from my face, I kiss her knuckles and repeat it with the other.
“Guess you have to take me home now, huh?”
As much as I’d love to say no and drag her into my bed, my nerves are shot to shit. I’ve overcome more in one day than I have in years.