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I need him to fuck me just like this.
I need him to love me just like this.
chapter fifty-six
lily
I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I fucked Jameson like I hated him last night. We had sex until both of us were so tired that we fell asleep with me on top of him and him still inside me.
I woke up this morning still pissed at him and to a mess all over the sheets and all over me.
“Get up,” I shout as I start stripping the bed that he’s still lying in.
He’s half asleep and reaching for the sheets when I rip them off of him. He’s too damn slow, and that gives me an angry satisfaction.
“What the hell, Lemon?”
“You made a mess, and I’m cleaning it up. Story of my fucking life.”
He rubs his hands over his eyes. “I guess you’re still pissed at me, then.”
“Of course, I’m still pissed at you. We didn’t work anything out last night. We just had sex a lot.”
Jameson gives me a lazy, satisfied smile. “I feel pretty great good about how we spent our time last night. We definitely need to do that again. A lot.”
“Of course, you do. But I need to change the sheets, shower, and get to the store for our first officially open Saturday. I have shit to do today.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you. You want to shower first? Or even better, at the same time?”
“No. If we go in the shower together, we’re just going to have sex again.”
“What’s the problem with that?”
“The problem is that orgasms don’t miraculously solve problems. I’m pissed at you for what you did. You had no right to do it. And the worst part is you’re not even sorry!”
He looks up at me with a puppy dog look on his face, pretending to look sorry. I know he’s not. “I’m sorry you’re pissed about it.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He leans back on the pillows with his hands behind his head and his elbows out, studying me. “What do you want me to say to get you to stop being pissed at me?”
“I want you to be sorry for what you did and promise to never do it again,” I tell him, jerking the pillows out from under him.
“I’m not sorry, and I’m always going to protect you from anyone who’s hurting you.” He leans back against the pillow he still has left, and I steal that one, too.
“She doesn’t mean to. She’s my mom, kid. Mothers and daughters can be complicated.”
“That’s bullshit. You’d never make excuses like this if anyone else hurt you.”
“I probably would if I loved them.”
“Shit. That means I have a lot more protecting to do than I thought. I thought this was just about your mom.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“No one gets to hurt you, Lemon. Not your mom, not me, not Jacks. And not anyone else.”
“People get hurt. It doesn’t mean the other person meant to do it. That’s life.”
