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His Wasted Heart by Monica Murphy (11)

“Rhett.” She’s breathless, her hands gripping my shoulders, her body squirming beneath mine, and that’s all because of what I’m doing to her. I can’t keep my hands or mouth off her. She’s all I can focus on, all I want to focus on.

The second we arrived at my place, I took Jensen by the hand and pulled her into the house, leading her back toward the bedroom. Chad was sitting on the couch watching TV, his mouth dropping open in disbelief as we passed by him, but I didn’t say a word. Just glared at him, as if daring him to open his mouth and say something stupid.

He didn’t, thank God.

Now I’ve got her in my room, the door locked. Her dress gone. She’s on the bed clad in a black bra and a skimpy pair of black panties, and I’m kissing her, caressing her, desperate for her.

I want to lose myself in her. Forget all the shit that went down tonight and concentrate on Jensen. She’s the only thing that feels right in my life, which is messed up since for all I know, she’s still lying to me about everything.

I’m an idiot, but I don’t care. My need for her outweighs the lingering doubt.

“Rhett.” Her voice is firmer. Louder. I lift my head from her neck, one hand cupped around her breast, the other toying with the waistband of her panties. She’s frowning at me, her blue eyes turbulent, her lips thin. “You’re not even listening to what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?” I slowly pull her panties down, exposing her completely, and she kicks them the rest of the way off, then presses her hand against my forehead to stop me from going down on her.

“You’re still not listening to me.” She actually sounds mad. Great. I shift away from her so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. “Is something bothering you?”

“No.” I practically spit the word out. I really don’t want to have a big meaningful talk. More like I just want to have meaningful sex and that’s it.

She lifts a brow. “Are you always this grouchy after having dinner with your family?”

“No, but I’m grouchy because you won’t let me do what I want.”

Sighing, she shakes her head, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. “Is this all you want from me tonight?” She whips her bra off, tossing it on the floor so she’s completely naked, while I’m still completely clothed. “You just want to use me for sex?”

Yes.

I don’t say the word out loud, though. Instead, I look away, staring at the wall, feeling like an asshole.

The mattress shifts and I can feel her crawling toward me. And then she’s touching me, her hand on my shoulder, her scent driving me wild. I don’t turn around, though. If I do, I’ll probably attack her and she’ll get mad at me all over again.

“I know you’re upset about something, and that it has to do with your brother.” Her voice is soft. So is her hand that still rests on my shoulder, and I’m tempted to spill everything.

But I can’t. I promised Park I would keep my mouth shut, though he doesn’t deserve my loyalty. He’s the jerk who’s banging his stepmom while she’s still married to our dad.

Like, who fucking does that? When did it start between them? Was it years ago or recent? And why hasn’t it ended?

My family is completely messed up. No, we’re beyond messed up. I can’t tell Jensen about my recent discovery. She’d probably run screaming once she heard Park and Diane’s dirty little secret.

“I’ve said some things lately that makes it seem like I don’t care about you.” She clears her throat, like she’s having trouble getting the words out. My chest grows tight in preparation for what she might say next. “I told you straight up that what we’re doing means nothing to me.”

She did.

“And you said it meant nothing to you too.”

Guess I’m the liar now.

“You taking me to dinner with your family tonight makes me feel like there’s more here. Between us.” Jensen pauses, and all of this unspoken tension seems to grow and expand in the room the longer she remains quiet.

I still won’t look at her, not until she’s finished with what she’s saying.

“Do you want more, Rhett?” She rests both hands on my shoulders now, and slowly starts massaging them. “You’re so tense,” she murmurs.

“Do you want more?” I ask the wall, ducking my head and closing my eyes as she continues to rub my shoulders. I can already feel the muscles loosening up, and while that has something to do with her massaging me, it has more to do with the woman who’s touching me.

I just…I can’t explain it. I have a thing for Jensen. She comes around, and I automatically react.

“I want to,” she whispers near my ear, making me shiver. “But I know I’ll probably mess it up.”

“How?” I turn to face her, her hands falling away from my shoulders. “How will you mess this up? You always say things like that, but you never explain yourself.”

She shrugs. Like she doesn’t want to answer me.

Or maybe she doesn’t know how.

“I think that’s complete bullshit, Jens,” I tell her vehemently. “You’ll either make it work, or you won’t.”

“It’s not that simple…” Her voice drifts, and I grab hold of her waist, hauling her into my lap.

“It is that simple.” I kiss her, a soft, lingering kiss that makes me practically vibrate with wanting her. “I like you, you like me.”

She smiles, but her eyes are sad. “Uh huh.”

“And I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else either.” She wraps her legs around my hips, slings her arms around my neck.

“Okay then, it’s official. We’re committed.” I kiss her again to seal the deal, and she starts to giggle against my mouth, as if I just told her a joke. “Hey, I’m serious.”

The giggles stop. “I know you are, and I like this idea. I do. I just don’t know if it’s—realistic.”

“Why the hell not?” I am so over game-playing and lying and bullshit. “Are you still feeding me a bunch of lies?”

She looks me straight in the eyes. “No.”

Notice how she doesn’t deny that she’s fed me a bunch of lies before.

“Are there things I should know about you?” I lean in close, our noses touching. “Are you still keeping secrets from me?”

Her eyes slide closed as she kisses me, rendering me stupid with her lips and tongue. I let it happen, and I know deep in my soul that this is a distraction. This kiss, the way she’s touching me, trying to help me shed my shirt, stroking the front of my jeans. I don’t protest—why would I protest? This is exactly what I wanted from the start.

We kiss like this for minutes, until she finally breaks away and runs her mouth along my jawline. I take a deep breath, holding on to her tight, afraid if I let go she’ll slip right out of arms and disappear.

Irrational, but fears are rarely rational, am I right?

“All this serious talk freaks me out,” she murmurs against my neck, just before she kisses the sensitive skin below my ear. “Can’t we just have fun?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.”

She lifts her head, her smoldering gaze meeting mine. “No, you were trying to get all aggressive with me because you were pissed at your brother.”

“I’m still pissed at my brother. I’m pissed at all of them, except for Addie.” And she is the last person I want to talk about right now.

“You never told me what was bothering you.”

“You never tell me what’s bothering you either,” I return.

We stare at each other for a tension-filled moment, and then I’m pushing her back onto the bed, kicking off my shoes and jeans and underwear, shrugging out of my shirt. She watches me while I strip, her expression almost…void, and I freeze. But then her eyes grow warm when they meet mine, as if she appreciates what she sees, and I stand at the foot of the bed for a moment, studying her.

With Jensen, I’m completely uninhibited. Not that I was a prude or anything like that, but I usually followed the girl’s lead. What she wanted, I wanted, and as we grew more comfortable, we’d get a little more adventurous.

Jensen and I have been adventurous from the first moment we had sex, and she’s led me down some pretty interesting paths. Ones I still want to explore.

I think of us in my car. I think of us in the hallway at the strip club. I think of the many ways I’ve had her, the many times I’ve tasted her, and the fact that I’ve only known her for a short while.

Touching her hip, I give her a gentle nudge. “Roll over.”

Without a word she does as I say, rolling over so she’s lying on her stomach, her pretty ass on display. I grab her hips and tug, pulling her into position so she’s on her hands and knees. She looks at me over her shoulder, a tiny smile curling her lips as she wags her butt at me.

I break out into a sweat just looking at her.

“We’ve never done it like this before,” she says.

“I know.” I crawl onto the bed on my knees and position myself behind her. “Spread your legs a little bit.”

She repositions herself, her legs spread, and I can see she’s wet. And I’m hard as a damn rock. There’s no foreplay tonight. I don’t have it in me.

All I want to do is fuck.

I hold on to her left hip and grab my cock with my other hand, rubbing the tip back and forth, teasing her pussy. She bucks against me, a low moan sounding in her throat, and I easily slide in, pushing until I’m balls-deep.

My name falls from her lips as she lowers herself to her elbows, grabbing hold of one of my pillows to clutch it in her arms. I don’t bother taking it slow, and I’m definitely not gentle.

Instead, I immediately start thrusting, my hips hitting her ass with every stroke, her hot, tight pussy clutching me deep. She moves with me, taking what I give her, her face buried in the pillow, muffling her loud moans.

I’m quiet, concentrating on the friction, the in-and-out rhythm, how she clenches around my cock like her body is trying to keep us forever connected.

And still I pound into her, not even close to coming yet.

She cries out, her hips jerking, her pussy milking my dick, and I grit my teeth, powering through her first orgasm. It would’ve been so easy to let go, to let my own orgasm wash over me, but I’m not ready. Not yet. There’s something so satisfactory about taking what’s yours without any restraint. That’s what I’m doing. I’m taking Jensen because she’s mine.

She belongs to me.

“Rhett,” she pants, and I open my eyes, watching as my dick slides in and out of her body. Christ, that’ll send me over the edge for sure. Her body shines with sweat, my fingers slipping around her hips as I try to get a grip on her. I’m sweating too. My chest is tight, my heart is racing, my breathing’s ragged, and I shake my head, running a hand through my hair to push it off my forehead.

And still she keeps moving, sliding up and down on my cock, driving me out of my mind.

I reach for her, my hands on her waist, pulling her up so she’s on her knees bowed up against me, my cock still inside her. She presses her back to my front, her breathing just as loud as mine, her entire body shaking, and I put my hand to her cheek, turning her head so I can take her mouth.

“You’re going to kill me,” she whispers against my mouth, and I growl, nipping at her lower lip.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve already come two times.” She shivers when I stroke her neck, her chest, and I wonder how I missed the second orgasm. “How much longer are you going to last?”

“Until you come a third time,” I whisper, releasing my hold on her head. She faces away from me, throwing her head back so she’s leaning on my shoulder. I can see the rise and fall of her breasts, those rosy pink nipples tempting me. Slowly I start to move once more, though it’s harder to establish a rhythm in this position.

But I like the closeness we’re sharing. I wrap my arms around her and she bends forward a little, sending me deeper, making both of us groan. I increase my speed, hammering into her, until she’s crying out my name and I’m coming so hard I swear I could black out.

I’m exhausted, ready to fall into the deepest sleep once we’re done, and I’m pulling the blankets over our still-covered-with-sweat bodies. She doesn’t bother saying she’s going to leave, and I’m glad.

I want her to stay.

Right before I drift off, she tucks her body close to mine, and I’m spooning her. My mind wanders as I breathe in the sweet scent of her shampoo, enjoying the way she lightly scratches my arm with her sharp nails.

I fall asleep quickly and dream of being at my dad’s house, wandering the halls and calling Jensen’s name, unable to find her. The house is three times as big in my dream, with an endless hall and so many doors, and for some reason, I have to open every single one.

I finally try the last door, swinging it open to find a giant bed dominating the room. Jensen is there, lying in the center of the mattress, naked and beautiful, her eyes closed in ecstasy, her full lips parted as she moans. She’s getting fucked, but I can’t see who he is. His hair is dark.

Like mine.

His shoulders are broad, his butt pumping up and down, and all I can do is watch.

She’s getting fucked all right.

By Park.

I jerk awake with a gasp, sitting straight up, the comforter puddling in my lap. My heart is racing triple time and I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the ends so hard it hurts, my eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.

It takes me a while to calm my wild thoughts and heart, and I finally get out of bed to take a piss. When I return I find Jensen awake, sitting up with the sheet clutched to her chest, her hair a mess, her eyes big in the dimly lit room.

“I had a bad dream,” she admits when I crawl back into bed.

“What about?” I pull her into me, her head on my chest, her hair in my face, my arm around her shoulders. I can’t tell her about my dream. It’s too weird.

Too freaking scary to think about.

“I was back at my old house, where we lived before my dad died.” Her lips tease my skin as she speaks. “And you were there too, but I was so ashamed.”

“Of me?”

“No, of you being there and seeing everything. Our place was kind of a dump.” She hesitates before she says, “We lived in a trailer park.”

“Oh.” What do I say to that?

“Anyway, my dad was yelling at me. Calling me a slut, saying I was a whore, just like my mom.”

A mom reference. She doesn’t make those very often.

“He kept saying it and looking at you, like he was trying to convince you to say it too. Eventually you did, you both started yelling at me, calling me a slut and a whore, and I finally slammed my hands over my ears and screamed. I wouldn’t stop screaming. Then I woke up.” A shuddering breath leaves her, and I hug her close.

“You had that dream because you’re worried about what my family thinks of you. You basically said that to me in the car,” I explain.

“I know. You’re right.” She presses her face against my chest. “It was awful. It felt so real.”

“You’re not a whore—you do realize that, right?” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s not like you get paid to have sex with guys.”

She goes completely still, to the point that I worry she’s passed out or something.

“Jens?”

Nothing.

I shake her shoulders. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?” Her voice is small. So small. She doesn’t sound right.

What’s wrong with her? It’s like I ask that particular question, and she’s having a quiet freak out.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Um…” She rubs her cheek against my chest, and I wonder if she’s stalling for time. “Yeah. I’m just…really tired.”

I kiss her forehead, trying to be understanding. I don’t want to talk about all of this either. It feels too heavy, too difficult. Our bad dreams are revealing our fears, and I don’t feel like analyzing them any longer. “Go to sleep,” I tell her.

“Okay.”

Her weird reaction stays with me for the rest of the night.

Even in my dreams.

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