“I thought you were a smart girl. You didn’t want to go to the police, and I still don’t know why. But I trusted you had a good reason. I thought we had made some connection after what you went through. Hell, I thought we had a connection the first time we met! I thought you trusted me, too, Miss Krause—“
“Don’t start with that ‘Miss Krause’ shit,” I retort out of anger.
“Shut up!” he shouts, making me do just that. “Are you not listening to a word I’m saying? I thought you trusted me. I’ve been there for you. We had a few unpleasant moments, but I thought I made it clear that I care about what happens to you!”
The color rises in his cheeks as his eyes flit back and forth between mine, searching for…what? I’m so confused.
“I do trust you, but honestly, I don’t know what this is about. If you can just give me back my phone, I’ll leave you alone. For good,” I add, because it seems where this is headed. I don’t need to sit around and wait for the inevitable.
He shakes his head, the dark brown silky strands drifting across his forehead. I’m mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to slow his breath. “I tried so hard to ignore the incessant vibrations your phone was giving off all morning. Eight times by the time you left my class second period. By lunch, you had seventeen messages. Damnit, I tried but my curiosity was too much. I knew it was that punk bothering you, even after I’d told him off.” He pauses, gauging my reaction. I knew Wyatt wouldn’t just back off. What did he say to make Jacoby so mad?
“But when I sat down at my lunch period and pulled out your phone, do you know what surprised me? Do you?” he asks softly, expecting an answer I’m not sure how to give.
My lungs can hardly expand as I watch him run his hand through his long hair, stopping to squeeze the back of his neck. He looks away from me, trying to collect himself, to reign in the emotions so clearly ruling his thoughts and actions.
I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me, but I’m afraid for him. And for us. Honestly, I don’t know what has him so worked up, but it’s terrifying to watch. That something I did has gotten this reaction from him. I’m scared, and I think he might be too.
This time, when he brings his eyes back to mine, my heart feels like it crumbles right there in the space behind my ribs. Little pieces of the hardened shell reduced to dust by one look. The hard glare from earlier is gone, replaced by soft eyes holding more concern than has ever been directed my way. By anyone.
“Not only am I pissed and hurt that you didn’t think you could trust me, but you’re out there trying to defend yourself in a world full of piece of shit people. I don’t know how you could be so stupid as to buy yourself a back alley gun, but you should have come to me first.”
My hands shoot to my mouth, but a gasp still escapes from behind my shaking hands. “What did you just say? How do you know that?” I ask, as my body begins to tremble. This is bad. Really fucking bad.
“What I was surprised to see when I clicked on your inbox, were half of the messages came from your little blonde haired friend, Emerson. I told myself I was only going to read one. Do you know what her message said, Tatum?”
I shake my head no, unable to speak as the magnitude of the conversation overwhelms me.
“It told me that she’s smarter than you. Because she has the balls to question you. That’s one fucking good friend you have there. One who stands up to you and doesn’t blindly have your back all the time when you’re making stupid decisions.
“After I read the first one, which caught my attention when she asked if you’re really going to threaten Wyatt with a gun, I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling the thread and reading the rest. And you want to know the truth?”
I give him a small nod, trying to swallow the thick lump in my throat.
“The messages terrified me. For the rest of the day I kept picturing you going to meet some dirty thug in a dark alley to illegally buy a gun.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I whisper, finally finding my voice.
“Are you really that naïve? It could have been a trap! You could have been actually raped this time, or killed. Christ! What do you plan on doing now? You gonna just walk up to his house and wave the gun around in an empty threat?”
“Don’t be a dick, that wasn’t my plan!” My newfound anger at his insults propels the words from my mouth.
“Then what was, Tatum? Tell me.” He takes a step closer. Jacoby wraps his strong hands around my shoulders and shakes me. Hard. “What is your plan?”
“I don’t know!” I cry, so many emotions tumbling around in me like a vortex I can’t grasp just one. “I just wanted to be protected in case he tries again. I can’t rely on you for everything!” We’re both yelling now, breathing hard, and staring each other down.
“Yes, you can! I care about you, more than you know. I wouldn’t be so upset if I didn’t care!” I don’t think he realizes he’s shaking me. His deep brown eyes search both of mine.
“Bullshit. Nobody cares about me. That’s why I have to take care of myself. I can only rely on myself!”
His voice takes on a low throaty sound I haven’t heard from him before, and he says, “When I finished reading those messages, I practically ran in here. I was so angry that you’d hide this from me! I was half planning to head you off and march you straight to Mr. Stephenson’s office. Because. I. Care.” He punctuates each word with a shake of my shoulders. I try to shrug him off, but he holds on tighter.
My stomach flops as his eyes bore into mine.
“And when I opened the door and saw Keith on you? Touching you in a way nobody but me should ever touch you? I was terrified it was happening again.” His voice shakes. “Damnit, Tatum, I fucking care,” he growls.
We’re at a stalemate. As if time is standing still. Eyes locked. My hands clenched along the hem of my shirt. His hands gripping the tops of my shoulders so hard I’ll probably bruise. I don’t care.
All I can think about is the heat now radiating from his smoldering stare. The awareness of his chest brushing mine with each deep breath he takes. The way his tongue pokes out to swipe at his bright red lips.
I don’t know who moves first.
His mouth crashes into mine as I jump, his hands slide down around my ass to hoist me up. My legs cinch around his waist, and he holds me firmly against his muscular frame. One hand around my back, the other slides up to grasp the back of my head. I gasp when his tongue prods the seam of my lips, and I open for him. It dips into my mouth, hot and smooth, sliding and flicking against my own in a sensual dance. Heat blossoms between my legs, and all thought of right or wrong disappears. Because something that feels this good can’t possibly be wrong.
Passion and sexual tension engulf us like a tornado. Even if we knew it was coming, we wouldn’t have had time to get out of the way. Not that I would have wanted to. What he’s doing to my mouth feels incredible.
Jacoby’s hand cups my ass, kneading and gripping as we pull moans and gasps from each other’s mouths. I thread my fingers through his silky locks and tug his head downward. He takes the not-so-subtle hint, breaking the seal of our lips to press kisses along my jaw and neck.
My head tips back as I moan, giving him access to the low V-neck of my shirt and the cleavage therein. He nuzzles my chest, the slight scruff of his stubble scratching the sensitive skin in the most delicious way, sending a frisson cascading down my body. I almost forget to breathe. My eyes slam closed. Oh, God.
His tongue swipes against the tops of my breasts, and I pull myself tighter against him. Why does he have to feel so good? I want him to lay me down and have his way with me. Fuck the consequences. I open my eyes to scope out the area and spot the desks…
Shit, shit, shit!
“You have to stop,” I attempt weakly, hating that I need to end something that feels so good. More than good. Amazing. I don’t want to stop. He just groans at me while continuing to lick and torture my chest. If he keeps that up, I won’t be able to stop. My willpower is only so strong.