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"So why can’t you meet my gaze?"
"Because I can’t." She pushes off of me, and this time, I don’t stop her. I straighten my clothes and she pulls the fronts of her blouse together, holding them in place, because, of course, I tore off the buttons. Satisfaction heats my chest. I scrutinize her features but she keeps her gaze averted.
She begins to scoot away from me, but I circle her wrist with my fingers. "Tell me what’s wrong."
"Nothing," she spits out.
"Liar." I pinch her chin so she has no choice but to glance at me. I search her features. "I felt it, too," I mutter.
"What?" She frowns. "What are you talking about?"
"That was more than fucking, Lena."
"No, it was not."
"It was, and you know it."
She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."
"On the contrary, this is one time I know what I’m saying. One advantage of being older than you is that I have enough experience to know when something out of the ordinary happens and this" —I gesture between us— "is one of those times."
"You’ve lost your mind."
"For the first time in my life, I’m thinking clearly."
33
Lena
This was more than fucking, Lena.
This is the first time in my life I’m thinking clearly.
I stand under the shower and let the hot water pour over me. When the Rolls had come to a stop outside JJ’s house, he tried to loan me his jacket. I refused. The last thing I want is to be caught with any item of his clothing on me. Instead, I pulled out the safety pins I keep in my bag—something my mother insisted I never be without—fixed myself up, then jumped out and ran up to my room. I couldn’t bear to talk to him… Not after what we’d done. I fucked him. I fucked my boyfriend’s father and OMG, it was so hot. So much hotter than any sex I’ve ever had before.
At least he remembers my name. That’s something, I suppose. As for the rest of what he said? Bet he’s doing it to screw with my head. No matter if it did feel like it was a lot more than fucking for me, too. That orgasm I experienced? I’ve never felt anything so intense before. It was the kind of bone-rattling, mind-numbing, emotion-wrenching climax that would have swept me off my feet, if I’d been standing, and catapulted me to somewhere high in the stars. It shattered me, blew me to smithereens. Until I couldn’t remember my name... or who I was... or who he was... or where we were. I came to my senses to find I was slumped against him. He cradled me in his arms, his forehead pressed to mine, and when he asked me if I was okay, his voice sounded worried. He sounded concerned about me. And that was my undoing.
I much prefer it when he’s glaring at me, or looking at me with cool disdain. When he’s being mean to me, and I’m fighting him back, I’m able to resist him. I’m able to focus on something other than how attractive he is. How dominant he is. How overpoweringly handsome, how charismatic, how there’s something about him I can’t resist. How it’s not just his physical attributes that attract me to him—I feel safe with him. I hunch my shoulders.
There… that’s it. The thing I wasn’t able to articulate, even to myself, earlier. My father left when I was only three and we grew up without a father figure. My family overcompensated by sticking tightly together, but we never really got over the loss of him at such an early stage in our lives. I often felt my older siblings tried to overcompensate for it by trying their best not to let me and Josh feel his gap in our lives.
Technically, I shouldn’t have missed my father at all. After all, I didn’t even know him that well. And yet I did miss him—every day. And meeting JJ only brought home just how much I missed having an authoritative male figure in my life. Someone I could look up to. Someone I knew would have my back, no matter what. Someone who would watch out for me, protect me. The way JJ did when he thought Isaac was going to hit me. He intervened that day at the party. He stepped between us to shield me. It was then that things shifted into place inside of me, and my attraction to JJ bloomed to life. An attraction I’ve been fighting with since… A connection I gave in to earlier when I fucked him. A shrink would have a field day with the situation I’m now in.
I switch off the shower, dry myself, then step into the bedroom and pull on a pair of yoga pants and top. I’ve just switched off my hair dryer when the door to the bedroom opens, and Isaac steps in. I avoid his gaze and continue to style my hair.
He places his camera and equipment on the table by the door, then shrugs off his coat and drops it to the floor before he walks over to stand behind me. He puts his arm around my waist and draws me close. "Mmm, you smell good." He kisses the top of my head, then moves over to the bed and flings himself down on it. "I’m exhausted." He stretches his arms over his head. His T-shirt rises to reveal the sliver of skin over his flat stomach.
Isaac does work out, as well, and he has a six-pack to prove it. He’s as tall as JJ, but leaner. And his shoulders are not as thick as his father’s. But he’s as good-looking as JJ, albeit in a different way. So why am I not attracted to him the way I am to JJ? Why can’t I feel half the attraction toward him that I feel toward JJ?
He must sense my gaze, for he lowers his arms and smirks. "Come 'ere," he drawls in a low, hard voice. And in that moment, I see the kind of man he’s going to mature into. The kind of self-assured, commanding, controlling man that JJ is today. Only, he’s not there yet. I want someone to take care of me, not be the person who has to take care of another. JJ can do that. He can take care of me. He knows what I want. He satisfies me the way Isaac never has. He’s not half the man JJ is yet, but he will be, someday soon. And he’ll find the kind of woman who’ll feel toward him the way I do toward JJ. But I’m not that woman, and I never will be. I may have been drawn to Isaac, but it’s nothing compared to the sheer primal pull JJ wields over me.
I place my brush on the dressing table with a soft thump, then walk toward him. When he holds out his hand, I take it and allow him to pull me onto the bed next to him. He folds me in his arms and tucks my head under his chin. For a few seconds, we stay that way. He sighs deeply. "This is nice," he says in a drowsy voice.
"Too nice, maybe."
"What’s that supposed to mean?" he murmurs.
I open my mouth, then close it. I’m not sure I’m ready to say this, but I must. No putting it off further. I can’t fuck his father, then lay in bed with Isaac and pretend everything is fine. Not when it hasn’t been for a long time.
