Jagger
The next morning, Jagger woke up with a pounding headache. It was as if he’d drunk gallons of liquor the night before, but no such thing had happened. It’s like I got a hangover from Abby’s pussy, he thought with a grin as he got to his feet, stumbling to his bathroom to take a long shower.
By the time he got back to his room, he noticed that the door was ajar. He might have left his room unlocked, but he never left doors open behind him. It was just a weird habit he had. His inner alarms were going off instinctively as he quietly stepped into the bedroom, trying to perceive who had snuck in while he was in the bathroom.
Abby. Abby was sitting at his desk, rifling through a set of papers, her eyes quickly bouncing around as she speed-read the documents. They were his notes on the arson cases, Jagger realized as he stepped closer to the desk, causing the floorboards to creak beneath his feet. Abby jumped in surprise as she finally noticed his presence.
“Jesus, you scared me,” she whispered softly, pressing a hand to her heart. “I’ve been going over your notes on the fires. So, it’s got to be a member or former member of Satan’s Blazes organization, right? No one else would have access to where Robert lived now,” she said, summarizing Jagger’s most recent conclusion.
“Yeah, um, shouldn’t you have asked before—” Jagger trailed off as Abby’s eyebrows raised, painting a skeptical look on her face.
“Before I what? Educate myself on the case I’m going to be working on? Fat chance,” Abby said, but she put the papers down and got up from Jagger’s chair, stretching her arms up toward the ceiling.
“Fair enough,” Jagger said begrudgingly. “Do you want breakfast? I know you haven’t eaten in a long time. You were working all day yesterday.”
“So were you,” Abby said with a shrug. “You get used to it.” That was true, Jagger realized. They did have similar working circumstances, which meant they probably had very similar lifestyles.
“Let’s go eat. I know a good pancake place. It’s usually just got Satan’s Blazes’ family members there. Safe place,” he explained as he ushered her out of his room and down the hallway.
“How do you know which Blazes members you can trust?” Abby said, and for a second Jagger wasn’t sure how to answer the question honestly, leading to an awkward pause that Abby immediately jumped on. “I didn’t mean to, like, insult your family dynamic or anything. I’m just curious if there’s a way for you to narrow down suspects to people who aren’t 100% trustworthy.”
“Got it,” Jagger said, suppressing a smile at Abby’s ever-present honesty. She was so blunt. Even as someone who hung around biker chicks most of the time, Jagger wasn’t used to a woman who had such a short line between her brain and her mouth. It was refreshing. “To answer your question, I don’t know. That’s kind of why I’ve been… I don’t know, keeping a low profile around here. I don’t want anyone to know how deeply I’ve been investigating everyone in the organization.”
“Any leads?” Abby asked in whisper as they walked through the first level of the compound, heading out toward Jagger’s car in the parking lot.
“Sort of,” Jagger said as they climbed up into his car. He started the engine and roared down the road toward the pancake place. “I’ve been working on alibis, mostly, trying to eliminate people who were busy or with reliable witnesses at all of the fires. I’ve been able to cross almost everybody still in the organization off the list.”
“Who’s still made the cut?” Abby asked, and Jagger could tell she was staring at him, her gaze incredibly focused and intense. His skin crawled a little bit, uncomfortable at being examined that closely, but at the same time he felt flattered. He couldn’t help but flex his arm muscles a little bit, trying to whet her appetite for his body. Abby had been adamant about the no-sex rule, but hell, could you blame him for trying?
“Um, well, a few junior members who haven’t exactly earned their stripes yet, and then…” Jagger sighed, unsure if he should divulge these many details about the investigation. He knew that he agreed to allow her to participate, but it was so hard letting her in on this information after he’d spent so many months keeping everything to himself.
“Go on,” Abby encouraged him, sounding more reassuring than Jagger would have expected. He wondered if she was putting her nursing habits to use, treating him with kid gloves like she would any of her patients. In any case, it worked. He immediately felt himself relax, the tone of her voice helping him exhale heavily and release pent-up energy that was hiding inside of his muscles.
“There’s a couple of guys who used to be a part of Satan’s Blazes, but they’re not anymore. They got kicked out.”
“Jesus, what do you have to do for that to happen, lose at a drinking game?” Abby asked teasingly.
Jagger pulled up to the parking lot of the breakfast place, switching off the car before jumping out and walking around to open Abby’s door for her. By the time he’d walked around she’d already jumped out, completely oblivious to what he was trying to do. Oh, well. He’d have to prove that he could be a gentleman some other way. They walked into the restaurant and grabbed a table, a booth near the back where they could talk privately without worrying about being overheard.
“Um, to answer your question from before,” Jagger said as soon as the waitress left them alone. “You have to be violent, really violent, to get kicked out. It’s more than a three-strikes rule. You have to be so bad the rest of the organization votes to kick you out, and it’s gotta be a majority.”
“So, we’re talking some really shitty people here,” Abby concluded, smiling weakly at the waitress as she came by to give them two glasses of water and take their order. “I’ll have two kinds of pancakes if that’s okay,” Abby said, “one blueberry, the other chocolate chip. And can I get sausage on the side of that, with some scrambled eggs as well?”
Jagger quickly put in his regular order, but he couldn’t help laughing a little once the waitress walked away. “Jesus, you hungry or something?”
Abby made a face. “It’s not polite to comment on what a woman is eating, you know.”
Jagger flushed a little, embarrassed that he’d already made a mistake even two minutes into their meal. “I’m sorry, I just think it’s nice, you know, seeing a woman eat. It’s depressing when women just order a salad with the dressing on the side.”
Abby nodded slowly, taking a deep sip of her water. “Well, I don’t have any time to waste, you know. With my schedule, I gotta eat when I get the opportunity. I couldn’t pretend to be dainty even if I wanted to.”
Somehow Jagger figured the truth was that she just didn’t want to appear that way. She seemed like a woman who had already fought wars with herself, who was done with that part of her life where she pretended to be somebody else for a man’s benefit. Jagger wasn’t sure how to compliment her for that. He figured that she might just get offended that he was psychoanalyzing her without even really knowing her, but he wanted to congratulate her somehow, on reaching a point in life where she was at least a little comfortable with herself.
“Anyway, the two guys,” Jagger said, straightening up in his seat and inching closer so he could murmur softly and Abby could still hear him. “They still live in the area, so they have access, but they’re both kind of old. They might not be working alone. I have to interview them to figure it out.”
“I could do it,” Abby said quickly, practically perking up in her seat. “I mean, they might be expecting you to come, right? They’ll recognize you from Satan’s Blazes if they were there when you were. But they might not know what I look like.”
Jagger shook his head slowly. “They’ve been targeting you, Abby. They have at least some idea of what you look like.”
“Oh,” Abby said, deflating like a balloon. “I guess you’re right. But I could like… I don’t know, wear a disguise or something. I could dress up as a cop and scare the shit out of them!”
As much as the idea of Abby dressing up in a cop’s uniform got Jagger’s engine revving, he had to shake his head. “No, it’s too risky, come on.”
“Well, what if we went together?” Abby suggested just as their food was placed in front of them. She picked up her fork and started stabbing at the pancakes, so roughly that syrup splattered up on her chin, but she was entirely focused on Jagger, staring at him so hard her eyes looked like missiles. “You can’t talk your way out of that one, right? It’s safest if you have some back-up.”
“It’s safest if they don’t get suspicious,” Jagger argued. “If they think I’m just coming by to say hi, then that’s the best solution.”
“So? I could be, like, your girlfriend or something,” Abby said. “You could just be stopping by to check on them, and I could be there with you. It makes perfect sense. Why wouldn’t you bring your girlfriend unless you were afraid of them? Come on, Jagger. Think about this,” she said before sliding huge slabs of syrupy pancake into her mouth.
She made a good point, but Jagger’s resolve didn’t weaken. Even if she was helping him go over his notes or whatever, there was no way he was letting her help physically with the investigation. It was way too dangerous, especially since the arsonist seemed to have a burning desire to hurt Abby. “It’s not the best idea,” he said before painstakingly carving his pancake up into neat little pieces, each one the same size and shape. “It’s just too dangerous.”
Abby leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She was pissed. That much was obvious. “So, what’s the point in having me help, then?”
“You’re a smart gal,” Jagger said with a shrug, cringing a little at the scowl that formed on Abby’s face in response to his words. “Sorry, I just meant. You know, another set of eyes on the evidence, right? It can only be helpful. I need your mind. Not your body.” He blushed a little at that last sentence, afraid that he’d crossed a line again. Based on the way Abby swallowed and looked away, she was thinking the same thing he was. Their night together. It had been amazing, perfect, and everything Jagger could want. It was also never going to happen again, at least according to Abby, so the smartest course of action was just to push it out of his mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, even if she were sitting right in front of him.
Abby stuck her fork in the center of one of her pancakes and started rotating it, sending specks of pancake in every direction across her plate. “Feels like you just want to placate me, keep me contained, and well-behaved while you do all the actual work,” she said softly. She sounded wounded, like Jagger had hurt her feelings. Guilt struck him right in the chest, causing his heartbeat to stutter a little bit, but he cleared his throat, trying to keep a steady head.
“I want to keep you safe. Is that so bad?” Jagger was worried that the question was going to come across as patronizing because it was truly sincere. He wanted to know if he was being ridiculous or not, but his principles told him that he wasn’t. Her safety was everything. It didn’t matter if she was pissed, it didn’t matter if she was hurt, it didn’t matter if she was never going to kiss him ever again. All that mattered was that she was safe, and that she was alive. That she still had a chance to be happy. Jagger was going to fight for that, no matter what.
“It is. It’s bad if it makes me a glass doll incapable of doing anything other than break,” Abby muttered.
Jagger wasn’t sure what to say to that. Instead, he just started shoving pieces of pancake into his mouth, chewing slowly and thoroughly, like he always did, watching as Abby just stared down at her mutilated breakfast.
Finally, Jagger found some words to use, even though he knew they were probably ridiculously insufficient. “You’re… Not weak, Abby. That’s not what it’s about.”
“Then what is it?” Abby asked, tearing her eyes away from her pancakes to stare at him. He expected her to be glaring, but instead, there was a question burning in her eyes, a deep curiosity, a desperation to know the answer to her question. “What is it about me that makes you so afraid I’ll get hurt?”
“Because you’re special,” Jagger said without thinking, the words leaving his mouth before he even knew they existed. “You’re special. I don’t want you to get hurt. It would be such a fucking waste if you got hurt because of this bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Abby argued. “Robert…”
“I know, I know. It’s a serious thing. But you’re so much bigger than this, Abby. You save lives.”
“So do you,” she said, her eyes tearing away from his to stare at her hands, nestled together in her lap.
“You know what I mean. You nurture people. You connect with them. That’s more important than anything I’ve ever done, even when I’ve pulled people out of burning buildings,” Jagger said.
“You don’t even want to let me work,” Abby said indignantly, even though her eyes remained focused on her thighs.
“For the time being, yeah, I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” Jagger admitted. “But that’s because only I know how important you are in the long run. I saw how you were with Robert. After everything, after years with Satan’s Blazes, you were all he had. That’s bigger than anything I’ve ever done before, being there for somebody. You’re special, Abby. You deserve better than to get involved with something that could kill you.”
He saw Abby chew on her bottom lip, tearing the sensitive skin off with her teeth. He was tempted to tell her to stop doing that, but then he remembered the whole reason they were arguing to begin with: His protective nature. That had always been a big problem in relationships. Of course, it would get in the way of this non-relationship. Jagger wasn’t sure what to call his connection with Abby. A romantic hook-up? A one-night stand? A weird obsession? All the above?
Abby finally cleared her throat and returned to her breakfast, hurriedly spooning it into her mouth before talking around her food. “Well, you know, it’s not exactly like you can stop me, anyway, so it’s not a big deal, I guess…” she said in between chewing motions.
“What do you mean?” Jagger asked, confused.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what you think. You can’t control me, so that’s that,” Abby said in an overly casual tone of voice. It was clear that she was still pissed as hell, but she was trying to hide it. It made Jagger more uncomfortable than had she just screamed at him all-out in the middle of the restaurant.
“Abby. You’re not going with me to interview the suspects, okay? It’s just not happening,” Jagger said, hardening his tone as if he were an elementary school teacher dealing with a particularly obstinate student. He knew he was being insultingly condescending. He knew he didn’t have any real authority over her, but it was his job to keep people alive. He was good at his job, and Abby wasn’t going to get in the way, no matter how independent or beautiful or smart she was.
Abby glared at him, her eyes narrowing to tiny pinpricks of color on her face. “Says who? You? That’s not enough to stop me.”
Jagger’s brain frantically searched for a legitimate reason to keep her from following him to the interviews. He knew he could stop her physically if need be, but he didn’t want to get to that point with Abby. He had a feeling that if he restrained her by locking her in her room, for instance, there would be no turning back. There’d be no way she’d ever kiss him again if he treated her that way. He had to come at this differently. He had to make it feel like her decision. For now, he opted for a distraction. Argue with her, his brain decided. That’s the way to buy time until you come up with an alternate solution.
“Why are you so stubborn?” he asked, his voice coming out angrier than he had intended. Whatever. It got the point across.
“I could ask the same thing of you,” Abby shot back, quickly finishing the last item on her plate before leaning back and staring at him expectantly, hoping that Jagger was going to give up and lead her to the first suspect’s place.
“No, seriously,” Jagger said, refusing to allow Abby to turn the line of interrogation back around on him. “What is it that annoys you so much about being protected?”
“Because it’s a lie!” Abby shot back, shocking him with the sudden increase in volume. A couple of nearby breakfasters turned their heads to see what the fuss was about, but things calmed back down immediately. Nonetheless, Abby looked embarrassed anyway, rubbing her temples with her thumbs and forefingers as if to comfort herself.
“What do you mean by that?” Jagger asked, a little afraid of where this line of conversation was heading. Still, he needed to know. He was never going to stop accidentally pissing Abby off if he didn’t figure out how she worked.
“It’s never… real,” Abby said softly as if she was talking more to herself than to anybody else. “People say they want to help you, they want to keep you safe, make you better, but it never turns out that way. They always leave, taking the best of you with them.” A sad smile spread across her face, her eyes darkening as she spoke.
“Make you better?” Jagger asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. It was like he was afraid for Abby to hear his words, worried that any little thing might set her off and she’d storm away from him. That was the worst-case scenario, Abby out in the world without his protection. Still, he had to ask. He had to understand her. And if he was honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t just because he wanted to keep her safe. He wanted to know her, wanted to crack open that skull of hers and see everything inside.
Abby sighed, all her breath blowing out at once as she pulled her hair back from her face, holding onto the sides of her head with her hands like she was trying to keep her brain together. “I was sick, as a teenager, okay? That’s all. That’s why I’ve got issues.”
“What do you mean, sick? Like mentally or…?” Jagger asked hesitantly, his words coming out slowly and uncertainly.
“Physically,” Abby answered him quickly. “Physically sick. Really, really fucking sick. Like on the verge of death sick. It’s why I chose to become a nurse.”
“Oh,” Jagger said. It was all he could muster up as a reply. It was hard to imagine Abby in a hospital bed, wasting away like one of her patients. “How long?”
“Like a year,” Abby said. “I had to make up a lot of schooling.”
“Jesus,” Jagger breathed out, causing Abby to nod furiously in response.
“Yeah. Jesus is right. I was out of commission. Stuck in the hospital, waiting to die.” Abby’s voice was cold and hard, almost mean-sounding, like she was talking about some pathetic weak person that she used to know. “It was disgusting,” she muttered under her breath.
“Disgusting? It sounds like you were very sick. What’s disgusting about that?” Jagger asked, feeling his brows furrow up in confusion.
“Because,” Abby said, and for a second Jagger thought that was all she was going to say by way of explanation. “Because I couldn’t do anything by myself. I was… I was useless. It was the worst time of my life.”
“And that’s why…that’s why it’s so hard for you to just sit back and wait, huh?” Jagger said as the realization of why she was so stubborn dawned on him slowly. This was what the whole thing was about, her anger, her defensiveness, her insistence that she be included in the investigation of Robert’s death. All of it came back to being a sick teenage girl who couldn’t save herself.
“I’ve done enough waiting for a lifetime,” Abby said. “Once you’ve waited months upon months, to hear if you’re going to live or die— Well, that just about fulfills your quota, I think.”
“I bet,” Jagger said, mental images flooding his brain as he considered the horrors that Abby had to endure as a kid. “Jesus, that must have been rough on your parents.”
Abby flinched a little, rearing back in her seat like the words burned her.
“What? Did I say something wrong?” Jagger asked.
She shook her head quickly, but she didn’t meet Jagger’s eyes. “No, no, it’s—it’s fine. It’s fine,” she muttered, reaching into her purse to grab a fistful of dollar bills to place on the tabletop for the waitress. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, I can get it,” Jagger said, getting out his own cash to cover the bill. “Take your money. It’s okay.”
“You’re not going to pay for me, all right?” Abby said, and the sharp edge to her voice returned. It was almost a relief, hearing her annoyance rather than the distant way she spoke when she was talking about her past.
“All right,” Jagger said, deciding not to push the issue. He wondered if she’d ever accepted help from anybody in her whole life. Maybe she was more used to giving it than receiving it.
Her patients! Jagger had a Eureka moment as he realized that was the key to keeping her away from the investigation, at least for the day. She needed to see her sick patients. Just a few days ago, Jagger would have resisted the idea of her going out of the compound at all. She’d already gone with Tony once, and everything seemed to work out okay. Tony was a huge dude, all brawn, and very little brains. He wasn’t the type that people tended to mess with.
“How are your charges doing?” Jagger asked innocently, trying to sound as casual as possible, as they climbed back into his car, heading back toward the compound.
“I don’t know, since you won’t let me go see them,” Abby said nastily. It was obvious the trip down memory lane had soured her mood. Jesus, remind me never to talk about her being sick ever again.
“I’m sorry for that,” Jagger said, and he realized that it was true. He hadn’t known how important nursing was to Abby until this morning, or why she had chosen to follow that career path. It was a way for her to feel strong, to feel like she was helping sick people, confronting her past without getting absorbed by it. It wasn’t like he felt sorry for trying to protect her, but he knew now how crucial it was to allow her to look after her patients. No wonder she was so pissed at him. He’d tried to prevent her from doing the one thing that made her feel useful.
“Really?” Abby asked, a little dubious. “You’re sorry?”
“I am,” Jagger replied. “It was fucked-up. I shouldn’t have done that. You… You were right.”
Abby was silent, sitting quietly in the seat next to Jagger as he sped on down the road toward the compound. “Will you take me to see them?” she whispered. “I don’t have a car.”
“Tony will,” Jagger said. “I’ve got to go to work.” By ‘work,’ he meant the investigation, but he hoped Abby would interpret it as another fire station shift. That way he wasn’t technically lying, but he could still avoid telling her the truth.
“Does Tony have a life?” Abby asked with a little laugh causing Jagger to smile brightly despite himself. It was nice to hear that sound coming from her. He wished he could hear it more often, among other things— but Jagger stopped that train of thought before he started imagining having sex with Abby again. There were no guarantees that that would ever happen again, so he couldn’t afford to obsess over it.
“Tony’s life is the club. He’s a Blaze, through and through. He’s the only one I trust,” Jagger said, shifting a little uncomfortably in his seat as he considered the truth of that statement. He’d grown so distant from so many people over the last year, and Tony was the last one left, the only one he hadn’t managed to push away with his obsession over the arsonist. “You can rely on him to protect you,” he finally said.
“Thank you,” Abby said softly, her voice coming out so light and fragile that it almost alarmed Jagger. “I—I really appreciate that. You, trusting me, I mean.”
The words stung because it wasn’t the truth. Jagger knew it, even if Abby didn’t. He didn’t trust her, not really. He needed her to stay put, away from the investigation, but at the same time, he needed her to be close, close enough that he could watch over her. He felt a little sick to his stomach that he’d lied to her so effectively. After everything, she was still able to trust him. Despite all the fires, despite Robert’s death, that was the thing that made Jagger the saddest. Somehow Abby still had the strength to believe in him, and he was abusing that belief, even if it was for a good reason.
Day by day, little by little, Jagger just hated himself more and more. He supposed that was the price he was willing to pay if it meant the people close to him were safe.
# # #
Abby
Abby finished up her appointment with her sickest patient, Mr. Benson. He was doing all right, but more likely than not he was going to die within the next six months. Abby resolved to make them as comfortable as possible for him. He deserved that, at the very least.
“Back to the club?” Tony asked, and she nodded before going up into his truck with him, leaning her head against the window as she sighed in exhaustion. It had been so long since she’d just relaxed. Abby wondered how the hell Jagger was functioning when she was so worn-out just from the past few days. She couldn’t imagine how he was handling the arsons on top of his regular job, in addition to participating with the MC’s business whenever he got the chance.
“How’s Jagger holding up?” She found herself asking Tony as he headed back toward the compound. Her curiosity had just gotten the better of her.
“You know, same as always,” Tony replied, coughing a little before clearing his throat. “He’s a tough dude.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Abby said, thinking back on the sex they’d had the night before. Her body was still sore, aching in that pleasant way that filled her body with endorphins. She shivered a little, thinking about his hands on her body, the way he could throw her around and lift her up and hold her down, completely dominating her in every way. She never thought she would be into sex like that, the kind where she handed over control and let somebody else take the reins. But she was. Dear God, she was into it, and she was hungry for more.
Stop it, she said to herself. You’re not allowed to have more. One and done. No strings attached, that’s the only way sex works for you, okay? She’d been screwed over too many times by men. They weren’t worth the sweat off her body, let alone the mental energy she’d expended worrying if they were going to hurt her. She already knew the answer to that question. They would hurt her, always, every single time. Her exes, the male doctors she dealt with, her dad—they were all the same. She couldn’t afford to trust anyone, especially not a guy who acted as if he owned her even though they still barely knew each other.
“Still, though,” she said to Tony. “I don’t know how he does it. He’s doing another shift at the fire station even after doing a 24-hour one just the day before?” Her hours were hectic, too, torn between the hospital and her at-home visits, but she had two separate jobs to compensate for Mark stealing all her money. Was the fire department severely understaffed or something?
Abby turned in her seat to see Tony’s face screwed up in confusion. “What do you mean? He’s not at work today.”
“Yeah, he is,” Abby replied. “He told me he was going into work.”
Tony didn’t answer right away, focusing on traffic as he merged onto the highway. “Well, that’s weird,” he said a moment later. “He told me he had three days off from the department.”
Abby’s stomach turned over, burning up until bile painfully filled her throat. So, Jagger had lied to her. She didn’t know why she felt so surprised. He screwed her over, manipulating her just like she knew he would. But too bad for him, she had another trick up her sleeve.
She hadn’t only read his notes. She’d memorized them, word for word, letter for letter. She knew where the suspects were, reciting the addresses in her head over breakfast. She didn’t know why she had wasted time arguing with Jagger when she could have just gone to interview them herself. There was just something about him that was so infuriating, something that tugged her into these arguments without her brain’s permission. It was something about how protective he was. Jagger was the quintessential firefighter, busting into places he didn’t belong just to save a life. It was heroic, really, in the right context. However, in Abby’s life, it made her uncomfortable, as if someone was trying to force her to fit into clothing that was too small for her body.
I’m not used to being looked after, Abby realized. She supposed it was another way in which she was broken, some parts of her irretrievably lost, but it was just the way things were. She wasn’t going to let someone take care of her. The years for that had passed. Now she was an adult, and no matter how badly she wanted it, she wasn’t going to let herself have it. She was tough now. She wasn’t some weak little girl, dying of cancer in a hospital bed, all alone. That little girl had disappeared with her illness, and she’d come out of it stronger than ever. At least, that was what she told herself.
Maybe that was why she fought with Jagger so much. He reminded her that she wasn’t invincible. But today, at least, she was one step ahead of him, and she was going to exploit it.
“Hey, Tony,” she said after a long pause. “I just realized I have one more patient to check in with. Would you hate me if we turned around and headed toward Timber Drive?”
Tony sighed deeply. “How long is it going to take?” he muttered, clearly exhausted.
Well, he could toughen the fuck up, Abby thought, because this was going to take a while if everything turned out well. “Just a few minutes,” she lied. “This guy is just really old, you know, and he doesn’t have anybody anymore.” At least she assumed that was the case. Jacob Gartner was his name, one of the last suspects on Jagger’s list. Abby would figure out if he were responsible. She would prove it to Jagger, prove that she wasn’t just some sick little girl that needed to be taken care of. She would prove all of them wrong, all the men who had ever hurt her.
# # #
Jagger
Jagger pulled up to the driveway of Old Man Bruce’s shack, shutting off his engine but staying inside his vehicle for a moment to gather his thoughts. He felt a little sick, feeling a little bit like he was going to throw up. Am I nervous? He’s an old man by now. I can take him, Jagger thought, but he realized soon after that that wasn’t the problem. It was guilt. He felt guilty, for lying to Abby. No matter how hard he tried to justify it, he knew that’s what he did. He deceived her, letting her think that he trusted her when it was the opposite. Still, the deed was done, and there was nothing he could do to fix it now. Jagger sighed deeply and wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to calm his thoughts so that they didn’t distract him from the matter at hand. He could beat himself up for this shit later. Right now, he had an arsonist to catch.
Jagger got out of his car and walked up to the front door, trying to seem as casual and relaxed as possible. He just needed the guy to talk to him. He wouldn’t open the discussion talking about the fires. He’d go the nostalgic route, talking about the good old days of Satan’s Blazes to get the guy to open up and let his guard down. Jagger knocked lightly on the front door, keeping his weight balanced in the heels of his feet in case he needed to make a break for it. He heard some rustling inside the house, not far from the other side of the door, but Jagger kept his face blank, calm, in case Bruce was looking at him through a window.
“Hello?” He called out. “Bruce? You in there, man? You remember me? Jagger, from Satan’s Blazes. Wanted to see if you could get lunch.”
A loud, hard banging noise erupted right next to Jagger’s ear, causing him to jump roughly a foot into the air. “Jesus,” he muttered, looking around to see if a car backfired. When he turned back around, he saw a small, symmetrical hole in the front door. Jesus, fuck, Jagger thought to himself, swallowing hard as he backed away from the door. Bruce had shot a hole through his front door.
“Bruce!” he called out, dropping the polite routine. “Bruce, everything’s okay. Just calm down. I just want to talk.”
Another shot rang out, this time through the top of the door, barely missing Jagger’s head. His heart sprang to life in his chest, painfully pounding as adrenaline flooded his veins. Every cell in his body was telling him to run, but he clenched his jaw and flexed his fists, staying put. “Bruce, just talk to me.”
“Get the fuck away from my property,” a rough, gravelly voice said on the other side of the door.
“Okay, okay,” Jagger said, backing away slowly with his hands raised in the air. He had no power here. Bruce held all the cards, or at the very least he was holding the gun. Jagger quickly went through his options in his mind. Bruce didn’t want to kill him, at least not like this, or he would have done it already. But he obviously knew something was up. He had to be involved somehow. Should Jagger go to the cops now? He was afraid that they’d take over the investigation without listening to him, and Jagger wouldn’t be able to make sure that the issue wasn’t dropped. He needed more information before turning the investigation over to the authorities. “Bruce, things will go a lot smoother for you if you just talk to me. Nobody’s got to get hurt here. We can just talk.”
“Get off my property right now, or I’ll pump your body full of lead,” Bruce growled, cocking his gun and sticking the tip out through one of the holes in the door. “Get in the car. Now.”
Jagger obeyed, sighing deeply as he walked back to his car. He seriously considered driving into the rickety shack, but he might kill Bruce that way. He’d have to come back later with back-up, maybe bring Tony along and break the door down, tie the guy up and interrogate him. It had been stupid of Jagger to come alone. Now he’d tipped off Bruce that he was onto him without getting any additional information. He didn’t even know if Bruce was involved, exactly. He was defensive, to be sure, but that could just be because of the bad blood between him and Satan’s Blazes. Jagger needed more proof before he called the cops. Hopefully, the second suspect, Jacob, would be open to conversation.
Jagger got into his car and quickly pulled out of the driveway, swallowing hard at the sound of another warning gunshot being sent over his car as he drove away. Jesus, that guy wasn’t messing around. Jagger sped off down the road in the direction of the second suspect’s house, only a few miles away.
On the ride over, Jagger couldn’t help but berate himself inwardly. He’d fucked up. He should have thought about things instead of just running in head first like he always did. Why am I so stupid? Jagger thought as he slammed his fists against the steering wheel. Why don’t I ever think before running into a goddamn burning building? There was something wrong with him, something defective. He was all heart, and no brain. Oh, well, at least Abby was safe. He’d managed to at least do one thing successfully, he figured.
By the time he rolled up to Jacob’s house, there was a car there already, one he recognized in the driveway. Tony’s.
What’s Tony doing here? Jagger wondered. He was supposed to be babysitting Abby, right? Oh. Realization dawned on Jagger like a sudden burst of frigid air. Abby was here. Abby was in danger. Oh, fuck no.
# # #
Abby
Abby saw Jagger before he saw her, she could tell by looking at his face as he put two and two together. Oh, shit, she thought silently, biting down on her lip. Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit. “Tony, do you mind doing me a huge favor?” she asked in a rush, clambering over to the backseat to try to avoid Jagger’s gaze as he zeroed in on Tony’s car. “Can you not tell Jagger that I’m here?”
“What? What do you mean?” Tony said, confused.
“I don’t have time to explain, just, please, let me hang out in the car and don’t say that you came with me, please,” Abby said quickly, ducking her head as Jagger started to stalk over.
“I don’t get it,” Tony said slowly, five steps behind.
“Oh, forget it,” Abby sighed, realizing that the battle was lost before it had even begun. She opened the back door of the car and stepped out, walking out to meet Jagger. “Hey,” she said, trying not to sound like she was a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. She had done nothing wrong, right? It was Jagger’s fault for restricting her when it wasn’t his goddamn business to interfere in what she did.
“What the fuck?” Jagger spat, putting his hands on his hips. He looked so disappointed in her. To her horror, it hurt her feelings, seeing him frown at her. I shouldn’t care, she said to herself. I shouldn’t give a fuck. I don’t. I don’t give a single fuck.
“You said I was a part of the organization,” Abby said, jumping right into the middle of the argument. “I’m here to help. You said you needed me. Well, here I am.”
“Your mind. I need your fucking mind. I don’t need you to get blown up,” Jagger said, his voice rising in volume. Tony was still in the car trying to avoid the awkwardness of this situation, even though Abby was sure Jagger would give him an earful for this transgression later.
“Stop being so fucking dramatic,” Abby said, feeling herself scowl, screwing up her features in an ugly, twisted expression. She didn’t care, though. It wasn’t her job to look pretty, especially when she was pissed off. “They’re petty arsonists. They’re not criminal masterminds.”
“Doesn’t matter, Abby!” Jagger shouted, right in her face. “You know what just happened to me? I was just shot at by a goddamned lunatic. You think this is going to be any different? You think these former Blazes are nice little old men like your patients? They’re not. They’re hardened fucking criminals who like to hurt women. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“Well, it’s clear that neither do you,” Abby shot back. “Or you would have fucking solved this shit by now. You’re doing such an excellent job of handling things on your own.” She knew that her sarcasm was harsh, but she couldn’t help herself. She was tired of being treated like a baby. She was at her wits’ fucking end. Abby was projecting a decade’s worth of frustration at Jagger, but as far as she was concerned, he deserved every bit of it.
“I know you have no fucking respect for me,” Jagger said between clenched teeth. “But do you have any fucking regard for your own life, like at all? You’re so fucking stupid, Abby!”
“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you,” Abby said, chuckling cruelly. She felt hot flashes of shame hit her right in the stomach, but there was no turning back now. She glared up at Jagger, waiting for him to say something else to set her off. Before he could, Tony stepped out of the car behind them.
“Um, guys?” Tony said tentatively, a little afraid to approach them in their angry state.
“What?!” Jagger and Abby said in unison, turning to stare at Tony expectantly, who just pointed at the house behind them.
“I saw a guy run out the back of the house and into that back road,” he said, still pointing off into the distance.
“What the hell?” Jagger said, breaking into a run. “Why didn’t you fucking say something sooner?”
“You were fighting,” Tony said weakly, starting to follow Jagger before shooting ahead of him. Abby did the same, putting all the strength in her body into her limbs to run as fast as possible. Jagger sped up, and they ran together, side by side, too focused on their target – a little brown blip on the horizon by this point – to yell at each other.
After another five minutes of running, it was evident the chase had become futile. There was no way they were going to catch up with him. He was too far ahead, and there was no way of telling how many turns he’d taken by now.
“Goddammit,” Jagger said in between big pants for air.
“You can say that again,” Abby replied as she bent over and grabbed her knees, stretching out her aching muscles. “Fucking Christ.”
“Well, are you happy now?” Jagger said as soon as he caught his breath.
Anger flared up Abby’s spine, hot and painful. “Are you fucking serious? You’re blaming this on me?”
Jagger shrugged. “Well, if you hadn’t been here, I definitely would have been able to catch him.”
“And if you hadn’t been here, I would have been able to talk to him. Or, if you just hadn’t freaked out when you saw me, none of this would have happened. Jesus H., man,” Abby groaned, turning to walk back to the potential arsonist’s house where their cars were still parked.
“Technically it’s all our faults,” Tony said, still heaving for breath as he walked slowly behind them.
“Shut up, Tony,” both Jagger and Abby said at the same time.
The slower Abby walked, her worn-out limbs aching more and more with each step forward, the more drained she felt overall. The anger from before had receded, and instead, she just felt useless. Her big attempt to prove herself as worthy of the investigation went up in smoke, no pun intended. Now Jagger thought she was an even bigger problem than she was before. Why do I care? Abby thought. Why do I give a single flying fuck if he thinks I’m strong or weak? I know I’m good enough. That’s all that matters, right?
When they walked back to the cars, she got into Jagger’s rather than Tony’s. She knew they were going to have a painful conversation either way, and she figured it was better to get it over with as soon as possible. “Let me have it,” she murmured, the tone of defeat seeping into her voice against her will as she sunk against the back of the passenger seat of Jagger’s car.
“Already said everything I need to say,” Jagger muttered as he switched the car on and pulled out, heading onto the main road.
That sounded ominous. Abby would much rather have been yelled at than deal with his judgmental silence as if he were in some position of authority over her. She felt like a little kid always being scolded, constantly doing the wrong thing. She shouldn’t have even cared about his opinion of her, but it rankled her nerves, making her feel more insecure than she had in years. He had a way of making her feel like she was still fifteen, still stuck in a hospital bed waiting for God to decide what her fate was. Why couldn’t Jagger understand that she needed to have some control over her life? Why couldn’t he get that she needed to participate in the investigation as much as she needed to stay alive? He of all people should have understood that.
She was so wrapped up in her own useless, pathetic thoughts that she didn’t even notice that they weren’t heading toward Satan’s Blazes’ compound until several minutes down the road. Abby turned around to see if Tony was following them, but she couldn’t see his car anywhere behind them. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“My house,” Jagger said curtly, his tone hard and mean.
“I thought you lived at the compound. Don’t you have a room there?” The room where we fucked, she thought silently.
“I do, but I also have my own property,” Jagger said, swiftly taking a hard turn onto a side road. “We’re going to stay there.”
“We? There’s no we here. I’m not staying with you,” Abby said petulantly. She hated how whiny her voice sounded, how young she came across, how immature. She was in the right in this situation and she wasn’t going to back down, not for anything.
“Uh, yeah, you are,” Jagger said as he took another turn, this time on a rocky, uneven road that had Abby bouncing a little in her seat.
“What is this, a citizen’s arrest?” Abby asked. “I’m not going to stay with you. End of story.”
Jagger didn’t say anything, he just mumbled something under his breath as he pulled up to a large, Gothic-looking house at the end of the gravel road. He turned the engine off, immediately jumping out of the car without saying anything to Abby.
For a long moment, she just sat in the car, staring out at the huge building that Jagger apparently owned. She wouldn’t have thought he would stay in a place like this. It was so big and dramatic, like something out of a Beauty and the Beast production. Despite herself, she liked it, and she couldn’t help but feel curious as to what it looked like on the inside. What was she going to do, anyway, call a cab? Even if she called the cheapest cab service available, it was going to take at least a half-hour before the driver got there. She had nothing to do but go in and explore.
The front door was unlocked, even though it loudly creaked as Abby opened it and stepped inside, closing it with a slam behind her so that Jagger knew she came in. The place was covered top to bottom with a layer of dust. Cleaning wasn’t Jagger’s forte, but she figured he spent most of his time at the compound anyway. There were old, obsolete candlestick holders sticking out of the walls everywhere she looked, and a large chandelier hung down from the center of the ceiling in the front room. Abby couldn’t help herself. She looked up and stared at the beautiful shining lights. It was hypnotizing, staring at the rainbow reflections within each crystal bulb. She could get used to staying in a place like this. But I’m not, she reminded herself. No matter how romantic it is. I’m not staying here with his dumb ass.
She slowly walked through the main room, stumbling over some random cardboard boxes on the ground that her eyes didn’t pick up on in the darkness. She followed the little bit of light she could see down a long hallway to her left. That must have been where Jagger went. Abby paused at the entrance to the hallway, leaning her weight on the wall for a second to give her body a break. It had been a long day, but somehow, she knew it was nowhere near over just yet.
No one made her walk down the hallway toward Jagger. The smart thing, the only sensible thing would have been to turn around, leave the house, call a cab, and never talk to him again. Nothing good would come of this. They were too angry, too chaotic. Abby didn’t need any more of that kind of energy in her life. So, what was the point?
She knew all this, and yet she still found herself moving forward, toward the light.
Abby paused in front of the door, straining her ears to see if she could hear any sound on the other side, trying to prepare herself for another encounter with an angry Jagger. Eventually, however, she sighed in defeat, unable to make out a single noise. She leaned her head against the door, giving herself a final moment of peace, before knocking lightly against the thick wood.
“Come in,” Jagger said from the other side. His voice sounded normal, casual, like all his emotion had receded. Even still, Abby inhaled deeply and pushed on the door slowly, carefully peeking inside, her heart pounding in her ears.
The first thing she noticed was a shirtless Jagger, rubbing a towel over his bare bulging shoulders. “Uh, hi,” Abby said softly, her words coming out stilted and awkward. She was partly nervous, embarrassed that she’d shown her temper so badly fifteen minutes earlier. At the same time, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jagger’s chest. She was only human, right? “Hey, there. I’m sorry about before.”
“Don’t be,” Jagger said, but his words came out a little too quickly, suggesting he hadn’t even heard her, rather just correctly anticipated what was going to come out of her mouth.
“Well, I am,” Abby replied. “It’s my business, and I’m choosing to feel shitty about it.”
“Yeah, well, that’s up to you,” Jagger said as he walked over to his dresser, picking up a thin white T-shirt and slipping it over his head. Abby inwardly mourned the loss of his bare chest. Stop it, she berated herself, physically shaking her head as if that could make the horny thoughts go away.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you,” Abby said, stepping a little further into the room and shutting the door behind her out of habit. “That was messed up.”
Jagger turned his head in her direction, but his back still faced her. Abby could see the definition of his back muscles even through the shirt. Goddamn, he was a beautiful specimen. “You mean that?” he asked.
“Yes. Lying’s bullshit. I don’t like doing it,” Abby said. “But it’s also… It’s also pretty fucked up that you tried to cut me out of the investigation. I didn’t appreciate that.”
“Yeah,” Jagger said, finally turning around to face her. “I got that.”
Abby was silent a moment, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to apologize, or….?”
“I don’t want to lie to you, either,” Jagger said. “I’m not sorry. Not really. I just wanted to keep you safe. I don’t understand why that’s so awful to you.”
The words hurt, mostly because Abby knew they were true. There was something defective about her, something broken and burnt-through, that made her different than other people. She had come so close to death as a teenager, practically brushing up against it like a cat rubbing its owner’s legs. But she’d gotten away. She’d survived. She just hadn’t known what the price would be. To survive, you must stop living. Or at least you’ve got to stop living like a person does. That’s what Abby thought, anyway. When something breaks you, when something tears the fabric of your body apart, turns your flesh into your enemy— After that happens, you become an alien creature that eats, drinks, and breathes fear. Life takes a backseat to that, Abby said to herself, like a prayer, like her fear had become her own religion. It had kept her safe all these years, when she’d listened to it. With Mark, she’d ignored her fear, she’d pushed it down into the depths of her soul, and as a result, she’d paid the price.
She would never make that mistake again.
At this point, several minutes had passed with dead silence in the room. Abby’s legs started to feel weak as if the weight of the rest of her body had become too much for them to bear. She couldn’t help it. She sunk down onto Jagger’s soft bed, letting her limbs splay out uselessly. “Are you okay?” Jagger said behind her.
“Yeah… I’m… Yeah,” Abby said, stuttering out the words. She stared down at her feet, trying to ground herself, but she kept feeling more and more light-headed. She knew he was asking her if she was having a panic attack again, but this feeling was different. It wasn’t about panic. It was about despair. Somehow, before this moment, she’d never really comprehended how alone she was, how alone she had been in order to feel safe. If she let someone in, they could hurt her. Worse, they could take care of her, and in the process of taking care of her, prove that she was truly weak. Either way, she would end up losing. She couldn’t relate to anyone, positively or negatively, without admitting that she wasn’t strong, she wasn’t whole, she wasn’t complete.
Jagger’s hands touched her shoulders lightly, his fingertips skirting over the sleeves of her shirt. “Everything’s okay, you know,” Jagger whispered above her.
“How do you know?” Abby whispered back, barely able to hear her voice in her ears over the rush of her heartbeat.
“You’re here with me. I’ve got you,” Jagger said, sounding perfectly secure. His confidence diffused into Abby’s body, loosening up her muscles as she relaxed. She fell back into his touch, rocking her head back on his chest as he stood behind her on the bed. “Relax. Just relax,” he whispered, digging the palms of his hands into her tense shoulders, driving gently into her wound-up muscles. “Relax.”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Abby whispered, feeling the guilt leave her body like smoke winding away from a candle being sucked into the light.
“I’m sorry I upset you. Really. I am,” Jagger said, pressing his hands down harder into Abby’s skin. “I just want to keep you alive. That’s all I want.”
Abby bit down on her bottom lip, unsure if she believed him. “You make me feel weak, you know? And I can’t stand that. I can’t stand it.” She whispered fiercely.
Jagger was quiet for a just a moment, rubbing his way down her neck and back. It was amazing, how quickly they fell back into physical intimacy, like it was meant to be. Abby’s body felt like it was permanently disconnected from her brain, but at the same time it was like her and Jagger’s bodies spoke the same language, beyond what their brains could understand. Deep in Abby’s mind, some little voice still protested that she was pissed off, that Jagger was an idiot, a Neanderthal who acted like he had authority over her when he didn’t. Unwilling, her shoulders sank beneath his touch, her neck falling to one side as Jagger leaned in and brushed his lips against her sensitive flesh.
“Why is that the worst thing?” Jagger asked in between tiny little kisses along Abby’s neck. “Being weak? Why is that always bad?”
“Because,” Abby replied as if that explained everything. She sighed deeply, willing the right words to come to her. “Because I can’t… I can’t go back to that.” She let her head hang back, allowing Jagger to dig more deeply into the tension at the base of her neck. For right now, she would let herself melt into his arms. It didn’t have to mean anything. She could still scream at him later for his overprotective bullshit; she could still allow herself to hate him as a person if she needed to. But his hands… his hands were miracle workers. She was powerless to resist them, even as they began to dip inside her clothing, rubbing at the skin of her shoulders and collarbone.
“You gotta move forward. The past is in the past. Why let it make you miserable?” Jagger asked, leaning in again to drop kisses against the top of her head, nudging at her scalp with his nose.
“It’s not like I’ve got much of a choice. I’m the… the only one I’ve got…” Abby murmured, her thoughts getting hazier and hazier as Jagger’s fingers slid under the hem of her shirt, scratching their way up her spine. Her head rocked back and forth, into thin air and back onto Jagger’s torso. It was almost a rhythm at this point: back and forth, back and forth. Meanwhile, Jagger’s hands found her shoulder-blades, tracing the bone delicately until Abby groaned softly, backing further into his touch.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jagger replied, but at this point, Abby wasn’t sure what she had even said just a moment earlier, her brain was so fuzzy and warm. The next thing she knew, her top was being pulled over her head, leaving her in only her bra. “Lay down,” Jagger ordered her, gently pushing her down. Abby laid on her stomach and shoved a pillow beneath her chin, hugging the warm blankets to her chest while Jagger straddled her back. He dragged his nails lightly down her spinal column until she squirmed, her hips twitching. “You’re good at relaxing, you know? It looks beautiful on you.”
Abby had no idea how to respond to that. She just shifted on the bed, backing her ass up so that there was less space between her torso and Jagger’s body. She couldn’t help herself. She had to ask the question that popped up into her mind. “Am I… prettier when I calm down or something?” Her voice came out embarrassingly squeaky, making her sound like a twelve-year-old girl anxious about what her crush thought of her.
“It’s not that simple,” Jagger said before leaning over and sliding his lips gently over her back, in one direction and then in the opposite direction, over and over again, making all of the nerve endings in Abby’s skin come alive. “It’s not about being pretty. You’re always pretty. But when I’ve got you like this, pinned under me….” He paused to drag his tongue up the back of her neck, causing her to moan breathlessly with pleasure. “You glow. I like seeing it.”
Abby shifted her hips around in circles, wanting more of his hands on her skin. “God, you feel so good. You make me feel….”
“Good?” Jagger suggested.
“Safe,” Abby said. “And dangerous, at the same time. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Maybe you don’t have to,” Jagger whispered in her ear, his hot breath making her tingle uncontrollably as if she were being tickled in all of her most sensitive spots all at once. “Maybe you can just take it in. And not fucking worry about it.”
“That’s not my style,” Abby said with a laugh, which quickly transformed into a whimper as Jagger bit down lightly on the side of her neck.
“Try it on for size,” Jagger hissed into her ear before sucking her lobe into his mouth, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth. “See if you like it.”
“I think… I think I do,” Abby whispered, afraid to confess the truth out loud but also, incapable of resisting it. “I think I really like it.”
“You like it when you don’t exactly know if you’re in control?” Jagger asked before licking a hot line up and down her neck, into the hollow of her collarbone. “Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t…”
Abby laughed breathlessly, rolling her hips up to grind into the ever-growing bulge between Jagger’s legs. “I could walk out whenever I want. I could just leave you here alone, playing with yourself…”
“Nah, you won’t do that, will you, baby?” Jagger murmured, digging his nails in harder than before as he pushed his hands down to her covered ass. “You’re a good girl. You like to help people. You want to make me feel good. Don’t you?”
“It makes me feel nice,” Abby admitted. “Getting you off. I want to do it again.”
“I might be able to help you out with that,” Jagger said before nibbling lightly on the tip of her ear.
Abby moaned at the warm wet sensation of Jagger’s beautiful mouth, arching her back as he moved to suck on her neck and the top of her back.
“Yeah, you’re a good girl,” Jagger said again, murmuring into her skin as he traveled down her back, licking away her sweat. “You’re so good for me.”
She whined a little under her breath, embarrassed at the noises she was making. But goddamn, she just couldn’t help herself. She had no control in this situation, and that terrified her and thrilled her at the same time. Jagger’s hands remained on her ass, massaging her flesh through the fabric of her pants. His mouth slid over her back, nibbling at the outlines of her bones, until he hit the hem of her pants, pulling at them with his teeth to drag it away from her body. He traveled south, still gripping the pants with his mouth, eventually pulling them down to her knees before letting them go. Abby giggled a little, goosebumps raising on her thighs as Jagger dragged his hands down over the skin of her legs.
“Can you take your clothes off, too?” Abby whispered, trembling a little as Jagger licked the gap between her thighs, stopping short of her underwear. “I want to feel you.”
Jagger pulled away from her body, and for a second, Abby was afraid that she’d pissed him off somehow by bossing him around, but then he returned. Abby couldn’t see anything, her head still shoved deep into the pillow, but she could tell he was completely naked, his hard cock bobbing up against her clothed ass.
“Is that good?” Jagger murmured, giving biting kisses to the insides of Abby’s thighs. “Do you like feeling me like that?”
“Yes… Yes, I love it,” Abby whispered, feeling beads of sweat appear all along her hairline. “Please, baby.”
“Please, what?” Jagger asked, smacking the left side of her ass before squeezing it hard between his fingers.
Abby groaned and backed her ass up eagerly into Jagger’s hands. “Please, fuck me. Fuck me, please, please, I need it. I need it, please,” she rambled, jerking her hips back and forth, away from Jagger, back toward him, rubbing her ass up against his dick.
“How bad do you need it, baby?” Jagger mumbled near her ear, licking down her neck before biting down on a sensitive spot, causing Abby to nearly jump off the bed in surprise.
“Ughhhnnn, ohhh, I need it badly. Really fucking badly. I’m dying for it, please, please give it to me, I’m ready, I’m so wet, I’m so fucking wet, I’m dripping for you already,” Abby said in a rush, spreading her legs further apart as Jagger reached around her waist to slide a hand down the front of her underwear.
“Mm, yeah, you are ready,” Jagger murmured, sticking his fingers in between her lower lips. He leaned forward, dropping his head to her shoulder, fiddling around with the angle until his index finger found her wet hole, slipping inside just a little bit. “Yeah, so fucking tight and ready for me.”
“What are you… What are you going to do?” Abby stuttered, her breathing already labored as Jagger pumped his finger in and out of her.
“I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” Jagger whispered, growling into her ear and biting down on her collarbone, sucking hard until Abby squealed. He pulled back and admired the deep purple mark he’d left behind, right before he began thoroughly fucking her with his finger, pushing in and out and brushing around in circles to find her pleasure spots inside of her cunt.
Without warning, Jagger pulled out of her and yanked her underwear down to her knees, tangling them together with her pants before pulling them both to her ankles. Abby heard the crinkling of foil as Jagger sheathed his cock with a condom. The next second, she felt a blunt hardness press at her hole, slowly but firmly pushing inside, spreading her out wider than she’d ever thought possible. “Uggggh, God!” Abby cried out, bearing down on the cock.
“Too much?” Jagger asked, and she could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t teasing her. He genuinely wanted to check that everything was okay.
“No, no— More, give me more,” Abby said, lifting her head out of the pillow to gasp for air. She braced her weight on her arms and knees, digging her joints deep into the mattress as Jagger began to sink deeper into her pussy.
“Like that? Huh?” he asked before licking a long line down from the middle of Abby’s neck to her upper back.
Abby nodded furiously to answer his question, wanting to give him as much positive reinforcement as possible. When Abby inhaled, desperately panting for oxygen, she could smell the thick scent of sex in the air. She could smell him, more clearly than ever before. He had this heavy, distinctive scent, almost smoky. It filled up her lungs, and she imagined that her blood cells were carrying tiny particles from his body to every fiber of her being. She wanted him inside of her, as deeply as possible. She never wanted to let go.
Without warning, Jagger pushed all the way in, grunting as his pelvis collided with Abby’s ass. “Oh, Jesus, fuck,” Abby moaned, rocking back on her knees to get him in as deep as he would go. “Jesus, fuck, baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, God,” she whimpered helplessly, bouncing back and forth on his cock to start up a rhythm.
Jagger chuckled behind her, reaching forward to grab a fistful of her hair. He didn’t pull on it, though. Somehow, Abby knew that he wasn’t going to hurt her, not even a little bit. She bent her neck back to give him more access before turning her head to stare at him through the messy strands of her hair that had fallen into her face. A huge smile spread over his face, his eyes twinkling brightly like stars in the middle of a pitch-black night. The sight of it made Abby feel even warmer than she already was, a smile threatening to split her face in two as she looked at Jagger’s gorgeous body. She rocked back harder on his cock, feeling his thick head brush up against her g-spot. “Mm, yeah, baby,” Jagger murmured as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “Yeah, you got it. Fuck yourself on my dick, baby. You can handle it. Take it.”
Abby panted hard for air as she did as she was told, bouncing harder on his cock. After a minute of this, she had to slow down, her muscles burning with exertion. Abby slid her hips back and forth, slowly dragging Jagger’s dick in and out, allowing it to massage all her sacred inner spots. She moved all her weight to one of her arms, freeing up the other to reach down and grab at Jagger’s hand, their fingers intertwining, their sweat mixing together. Jagger’s other hand was on her ass, pulling her back and forth on his dick, which just seemed to slip deeper and deeper inside of her with every stroke.
“I can do it,” Abby grunted out, flipping her head back to get her sweaty hair out of her face. “I’m fucking tough. I can do it,” she repeated, jacking her hips back and forth faster and faster until her muscles practically screamed in pain. She didn’t care. She was a woman made of iron, at least for the moment, and she wasn’t going to stop for anything.
“Yeah, baby, fuck yourself, fuck me, do it, baby, yeah,” Jagger moaned, his words becoming more and more incoherent as he shoved himself faster into Abby’s hole. His hand traveled from her ass around to the front of her body, stretching to find her clit, his fingers rubbing it up and down to the rhythm of their hips’ motions.
“Ahh!” Abby cried out, spreading her legs further apart to allow more of Jagger’s hand on her clit. “Ahh, baby, baby, yes!” She jerked her hips up and down, building a little ball of heat in between her legs that tightened every time Jagger’s cock pushed inside of her.
“You gonna do it for me?” Jagger asked softly, gently kissing the back of her neck even as he jerked her clit harder and faster. “You gonna fucking come, baby?”
Abby was beyond words, beyond thought. Her pussy was on fire, flames of pleasure licking their way up her entire body. The sensations overwhelmed her, to the point where every single molecule in her body was begging her to shout, to scream out for release. “Ahhhhhnnnn!” Abby groaned, screwing her eyes shut and leaning back until her head touched Jagger’s shoulder. “Shit, shit, shit, ahhhhhhh!”
Jagger lifted her off his cock, leaving her nearly weeping in desperation before readjusting so that his legs were spread out, creating a perfect space in his lap for Abby. The next second, he slammed her back down, face-to-face this time. He shoved his cock inside all at once, staying still just for a second to allow Abby to become accustomed to the new deeper angle before he began bouncing her up and down. One of his hands found her clit again, licking his lips as she groaned and gripped his shoulders to ground herself. He looked like he wanted to devour her, like he wanted to consume every inch of her body and soul. And Abby wanted to give it to him.
“I’m gonna—I’m fucking gonna…” Abby trailed off, her panting lungs overcoming her speech.
“Yeah? Yeah, baby?” Jagger said before he smashed their mouths together, their tongues pressing up against each other roughly. “You gonna fucking come on my cock?” he mumbled into her mouth.
Abby could only nod before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, suppressing the humiliatingly loud noises that kept leaving her mouth. “I’m gonna do it,” she mumbled into Jagger’s skin, and she realized that she was talking more to herself than to him. She needed to know that she could do it again, that she wasn’t just a one-trick pony. She needed to come. She needed to explode. She needed to be shattered and reassembled all over again.
She dug her nails deep into Jagger’s back, relishing the groan he emitted as a response, and bounced harder on his lap, pushing forward so that his fingers pressed against her clit with more pressure. “Baby, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna fucking do it. Baby, babyyyy, babyyyyy……yes!” She slammed her palms hard against his back, shoving their bodies as close together as possible while her cunt spiraled into spasms, an explosion of heat spreading out from her clit to the tips of her fingers to the bottoms of her feet.
Almost immediately afterward, Abby heard Jagger curse indistinctly, his voice getting higher and more desperate as he fucked her through her orgasm, his thrusts becoming more unsteady with each passing moment. “Abby. Abby, I gotta. I’m gonna come… I’m gonna…” His words trailed off as he moaned, his head falling back as his hips jerked forward roughly, sinking deep inside her as he came inside the condom.
For a long moment, they just lay there, stuck together by shared sweat, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they panted for precious air. Jagger finally pulled his hips back to remove his cock from Abby’s cunt, taking off the used condom and throwing it somewhere in the vague direction of the trashcan next to the door. He immediately pulled Abby closer, deeper into his arms, dropping kisses on the top of her head as she nuzzled his chest.
“It’s okay to trust me, you know,” Jagger said. “I know you’re not ready to do that yet. I don’t know if you’ll ever be. But it’s okay if you want to try it out sometime. You can let go. I won’t let you fall.”
The words touched Abby deeper than she ever could have anticipated. It felt like the skin of her chest had been removed, her bloody, pumping heart vulnerable to Jagger’s burning touch. Abby didn’t know how she could take it. She was strong enough to enjoy an orgasm, finally, but was she strong enough to handle feelings? Emotions? Those were an entirely different kind of challenge, and it wasn’t one that Abby felt equipped to defeat right now.
So, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she blindly reached up and tangled a hand in Jagger’s hair, rubbing his scalp gently with her nails, trying to communicate through touch how she felt. That was the best she could do. She couldn’t promise him that she trusted him. She didn’t. And who knows if she ever would? Abby didn’t even trust herself. Nothing was going to change that.