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Malcolmdidn’tsleep.AfterJami told him her story, a dam had broken inside her. When she’d suddenly gone limp, he’d been worried at first, but it was just that exhaustion had taken over. He’d shifted them back until he could prop himself against his headboard and held her while she slept.
He was going to fucking gut Raneer the next time the man came around. His arms tightened on Jami until her nose wrinkled, and he forced himself to relax.
Jami blamed herself. And it had killed her confidence.
Malcolm wanted to castrate himself, not just the man that had hurt her. Over the last month or so, he’d touched her all the time. And he’d practically jumped her that night, after she’d asked him to touch her in the driveway. The reminder that she had asked helped him take a breath.
During their first time back in high school, he’d pulled away to check with her, offering to stop if she didn’t want to keep going. He’d never imagined a girl like her would want him to touch her. Jami had been the one leading that time. She’d taken him, not the other way around.
It sounded like there’d been no pleasure at all for her over the years since. Their time together had become fiction in her mind, like one of the books she had read as a teenager. He understood what she was really afraid of. Jami thought the woman that had fallen apart so beautifully in his arms didn’t exist.
Once the hot coal eating a hole through his chest simmered down, he’d have to figure out what to do next. His fists shook where they had fallen on the bed. He’d never needed to punch something more, but wouldn’t trust himself even if Reggie agreed to spar with him. Once he let go, he’d have trouble stopping.
There was no way in hell he’d ask Jami to have sex with him now. She needed time, and that was something easy enough to give. He’d wait forever if it meant that expression he saw last night could heal.
The night passed slowly.
Jami’s nose wrinkled again, and her hands twisted in his shirt before her eyes opened.
“Good morning,” Malcolm said. There wasn’t much he could do to avoid the gruffness in his words, even as he kept his volume soft. She’d slept on top of him all night. He wasn’t surprised when she wouldn’t meet his gaze but stared instead at her hands where they gripped his shirt.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. She’d been steadily gaining weight over the last few weeks, and he liked the way it looked on her. Celia still struggled to eat, her bad habits more deeply ingrained. He’d assumed Jami would be the same at first, but as long as he catered to her sweet tooth, she had no trouble eating. “I could make fruit pancakes.” It had become one of her favorites.
She forced her hands to release him. “I understand.” She started to pull away.
Malcolm’s chest tightened as he rested his hand lightly on her arm. “What do you understand?”
Jami glanced down at his hand, then met his gaze finally. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you, Malcolm.” She took a breath, biting her lip. “I wouldn’t want to touch me either. I must seem pretty pathetic to you after what I told you last night.”
“You’re wrong, Jami,” Malcolm told her. He cupped the side of her face. “But I don’t want to take anything from you. There’s no rush.”
She searched his eyes. “What if there is for me?”
He let himself brush her thick, wavy hair behind her ear. “What do you mean?”
Her hands moved to his chest, pressing flat over the cotton shirt as she sat up more, and her gaze fell to them. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
His hand paused, and he realized he’d touched her again without her permission. “Exactly, Jami. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
She scowled down at him. “You’re just making this harder!”
Malcolm blinked at her. He started to say something, but for once, he couldn’t find the right words.
“Sweet Malcolm, all understanding,” she muttered. Her hands twisted in his shirt again. “You don’t understand anything.” Her fisted hands trembled. “You even said Andrew raped me, which wasn’t it at all. I never told him no!”
“Jami, he never gave you a chance to.” He let his hand drop to the bed, scared to allow himself even that contact. His anger, always a part of him, was too close to the surface. He tried to rein it in, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t glare at the woman who squeezed his heart with every tug on his shirt. “Consent is you saying yes, not no. And you didn’t that first time.”
Silence followed his words. Malcolm sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly. It didn’t work. He still wanted to find Raneer and tear his fucking arms off. But he wanted to see Jami’s face more, to judge for himself if he really was making things worse for her.
She still didn’t look very happy. Wrinkles creased her forehead as she frowned at him. “So, wait, if I said yes to you right now, would you touch me?”
His fingers tingled, but he shook his head. “I can’t, Jami.”
She let out a noise that was almost a growl. “You’re such a jerk.” Her hands loosened on his shirt.
“You need to give yourself time,” he told her.
“And what if time is the last thing I need?” she asked.
