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“This place is great,” she says, wrapping her arms around you. “Our very first apartment together.”
“And hopefully, the last,” you mumble. “It's only up from here. As soon as things start coming together, I'm gonna build you a house.”
You don’t know this, but that girl? She doesn't need a house. She doesn't even need an apartment. She would’ve slept in the car. She wouldn’t have complained at all about it. You didn’t have to sell it, but you did, and as grateful as she is for that, she already feels guilty. She’s worried, and she’s scared, that this won’t be a story of triumph. Because she believes in you. She wouldn’t be there if she didn’t. But the world isn’t always kind to good people. Sometimes it eats them alive.
Chapter 17
KENNEDY
I fling my dirty uniform into the hamper in my bedroom and pull on a long white t-shirt, covering myself, when I hear a throat clear in the doorway, Jonathan’s voice a gruff mumble when he says, “Shit, sorry, I was just, uh…”
I glance at him as he averts his gaze, forcing his eyes away.
“It’s fine,” I say. “You’ve seen me wear less.”
“Yeah, well…” He looks my way again, hesitating, like he’s not sure what he wants to say, if he should even say anything. “I wasn’t trying to, you know…”
“I know.”
Despite not trying to, he sort of does. His eyes slowly roam, and goose bumps coat my body, a chill creeping along my skin. Things are already weird, and he’s making it more nerve-wracking by blatantly gawking. My stomach gets tied up in knots at the look on his face, the slack-jawed awe as he licks his lips.
“Anyway.” He clears his throat. “I wanted to say goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I whisper.
Jonathan lingers there, eyes continuing to roam. A moment passes before he turns away, making a move to leave.
“Wait.”
The lone word slips from my lips. I’m not sure why I say it. I don’t even think about it. He hesitates again, meeting my gaze, eyebrows raised with questions I don’t know how to answer as my heart thumps wildly with its own questions, like what the heck are you doing? I’m playing with fire, like I don’t remember how much it hurts to get burned, but from here, where I’m standing, all I can seem to feel is the warmth.
I don’t have to say anything else, which is good, because I’m not sure I could find the words if I needed to. He reaches for me, his fingertips grazing my flushed cheek and running along my jawline. He grasps my chin and tilts my face up as he leans down to kiss me. His lips are soft, so soft—so sweet and gentle.
He kisses me for a long time, not rushing, not pushing, just waiting. The breath leaves my lungs and all sense disappears from my head as I wrap my arms around him and pull him to my bed.
“You sure about this?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head, because nope, I’m still not sure about any of it, but I don’t stop myself. I lay down and he’s on top of me. I tug at his costume as he strips me of my clothes. My head is swimming and my heart is racing, and before I can catch my breath, his lips are on mine again and he’s pushing inside, already settled between my thighs. I gasp as he lets out a guttural groan, filling me, holding me.
None of it feels real.
Not this time. Not last time.
He moves slow at first, and it’s almost agonizing, before he increases his pace, thrusting harder, deeper, shoving my knees up and hitting that spot deep inside of me that makes my toes curl and my body quiver. I moan his name. “Jonathan.”
“Like that?” he asks, keeping his rhythm. “Is that how you want it?”
I nod, whimpering as he hits that spot again and again, unraveling the tight knots inside of me as I start to come apart at the seams. “Please.”
“You’re the queen,” he whispers, not stopping as orgasm rocks me. I arch my back, gripping him tightly, nails raking along his shoulders.
Even when it subsides, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. He knows what I want and he gives it to me, over and over, until I’m begging, pleading, and can’t take another moment. Only then does he pull back, only then does he change his pace—hitting hard, so hard that my breath catches, a few rough, deep strokes as he groans, coming.
“Fuck,” he curses, nuzzling into my neck. He kisses the skin, teeth nipping at my throat. “So beautiful.”
The beautifulest woman in the world.
That’s what he told Maddie.
That’s how he described me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold onto him, hoping he means those words, hoping I can believe him.
“Mommy?”
That’s all it takes to draw me out of a deep sleep, that lone word spoken nearby, the quiet voice calling out to me. Maddie. My eyes open, and I blink a few times, getting my wits about me. The room is starting to lighten, the sun rising outside, a soft glow streaming through the window and shining along the wooden floor around the bed.
