Page 21 of The Intimacy of Control

He frowned. “What a shame. I see you’ve shaved. It looks good.”

I peered down the bar, noticing a few people sitting at the very end. They shouldn’t have been close enough to hear any part of our conversation, but I’d rather be safe than sorry, so I leaned closer and whispered. “What are you really here for, Forrest?”

“Do you even have to ask that? I gave you a free pass last time. I’m here to flirt.”

Right. He hadn’t flirted with me at Pride and Pages. I still wasn’t exactly sure why I’d gone over there in the first place. Initially, I really did have an interest in the book, but I was going to buy the digital copy. I could’ve done that and avoided seeing him altogether, which was the whole point. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want him to keep pestering me over and over again, trying to get me to go on a date with him, which I didn’t do. Which I didn’t want to do.

But goddamn it, he was persistent. His persistence and determination had leaked into my brain, and all I could think about was seeing him again. He hadn’t come into Driftwood in a while, and I was honestly getting worried. Kind of.

I hadn’t missed him. Nope. Not in the slightest. I hadn’t missed the way it made me feel when he’d relentlessly flirt with me, always somehow showing up at the exact moment I didn’t need him to. I didn’t miss his smile or the air of confidence that followed him. Or how shy I’d seen him be when Crew, Willow, and I had run into him at his bookstore. I didn’t miss the way his glasses made him look ten times hotter, which honestly should’ve been illegal.

I hadn’t been missing Forrest Castillo. Even if I had a little bit. He hadn’t grown on me. He hadn’t become the bright spot of my days. I’d just wanted to support his store by buying the book there instead.

But then he hadn’t even tried to flirt with me, and it got me all fucked up in the head. I’d started to wonder if I’d finally scared him off like I knew I would. Like I’d hoped I had. There was no room for his magic in my life, even if I’d started to want it. Which I hadn’t.

Shaking my head, I looked into his eyes. His big, gorgeous brown eyes. They reminded me of all the good things in the world wrapped up in one gaze. “You can’t stay away, can you?”

He shrugged. “Neither can you, it seems. Come on, Jack. You came to my bookstore for a reason, didn’t you?”

“To buy a book, yeah.”

“No, I think you wanted to see me. You wanted me to flirt and ask you out. You wanted me to do it, whether you admit it to yourself or not.”

Was he wrong? Not exactly. I just didn’t want to admit it yet. “I think you’re reaching, actually.”

Running a hand through his hair, Forrest leaned back, sitting upright on the barstool. “Okay. This is the last time I’ll ever come to bother you. If you want to come home with me, say it now. Say yes, and I won’t walk out of here. But if you don’t… If you really don’t want to see me again or want to come into my bed with me, then say it now. Say no, and I’ll walk out. No questions. No comments. No more flirting. I’ll leave and never intentionally seek you out again.”

“No date invitation?” I wished I’d had more control over my tongue, but the words slipped out almost automatically.

“Not unless you want one, Jack. I want you. I want you back in my bed. I’d rather we go on a date and get to know each other, but if all you want is to be fucked into a coma, then I’ll gladly do that as well. No skin off my back.”

Was I actually considering his offer? So far, everything had gone horribly wrong, and the whole idea of clinging onto control wasn’t working for me. I couldn’t control a damn thing. Maybe I should give it up for a night. Give it to him.

He leaned closer again, whispering. “It’s your choice. It’s always been your choice. But I think a part of you keeps thinking about me. You wanted me to flirt. You wanted me to ask you out. Are you going to run from me, baby, or are you going to come back home with me?”

I didn’t do repeats. Doing repeats meant giving someone control again. It meant giving them the ability to see straight into my tattered, broken soul. I’d have to confront the truth—that I didn’t have control. Nor did I even actually want it. I just needed it. For some fucked-up reason, I needed it, no matter how exhausting it constantly was.

Fuck, I wanted him to take it. Take it all away for another night like he had before. And then maybe he’d fuck me hard enough that I’d fall asleep again.

Forrest was hot. He was hot, sweet, determined, and a little bit nerdy. The small glimpses I’d gotten to see of him almost made me uncomfortable. He wasn’t a stranger anymore. Then again, was that so bad?

The magic he gave me last time had been a literal dream come true. He’d handled me exactly how I’d needed, and he’d cooked me breakfast the next morning, all while dancing in his underwear.

Everything had gone wrong, and going home with Forrest sounded all kinds of right.

I let my shoulders fall as I thought about the moans he’d ripped from me before. The mind-blowing, intimate way he’d ruined me so fucking well. I wanted to be under him again. I wanted to be under his control, and usually, that would’ve scared me. I was simply too tired to care now, though.

I glanced at Melissa, who was handling the customers at the end of the bar, and then at Mav, who was cleaning up for closing soon. Finally, my eyes landed on an expectant Forrest. “I’ll meet you at your apartment. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”

He smiled, standing from the barstool. “I’ll be waiting for you, Jack.”

I knew he would be. I’d be waiting for him, too. Waiting for him to tear me apart piece by piece until I was nothing but exposed nerve endings, too on edge to care about anything but him.

Nothing was in my control. Not even the way my heart started to beat faster at the idea of feeling his hands on me again. The scariest part of it all was the fact that I wasn’t scared about it in the slightest.

chapter nine

Finally. Fucking finally, I had Jack pressed against the wall of my apartment again. I chased his lips and ground our bodies together, stealing his soft whimpers, moans, and gasps of air. Every twitch and ripple of his muscles beneath my hands made everything worth it. The waiting. The nervousness. The lonely nights I’d spent in my bed, wishing my sheets still smelled like him.