Four Score

Eleven

We fall asleep like that, tightly wound around each other, and when we wake in the morning, I realize I haven’t had a nightmare. It’s a comforting thought, and one that makes me realize how important Jase’s presence in my life really is.

I love him so much, sometimes it’s almost too painful to bear.

Because if I lose him again … I don’t think I’d survive it.

I don’t think I’d want to.

He’s still asleep, so I turn over and wriggle back until my ass is pressed against him, intending to snooze for a while longer while he spoons me. But my movement must wake him, because pretty soon I can feel his morning glory pressed hard into one butt cheek as his hands lazily roam across the rest of my body.

“Did I wake you?” I whisper.

“No,” he replies, pressing his erection into me.

I smile, reaching down and pushing my hand past the waistband of his boxer shorts to grip his hardness. “Do you want me to leave you alone so you can go back to sleep?”

“God, no,” he groans, moving his hips so that his cock slides up and down in my grip.

I tug at my panties with my free hand, kicking them off when they get to my ankles. Jase responds eagerly, pushing my hand away and pressing me onto my stomach.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and a little part of me dies inside.

I hate that he feels like he has to ask me every time we touch, but I know exactly why. After what he’s seen, he’ll probably need to ask until the end of time.

“It will be in a moment,” I say lightly, raising my ass to rub against the tip of his shaft. He breathes loudly, using his hands to spread my ass apart, and a moment later I feel him nudging at my entrance.

“God, you’re so wet,” he says, sliding the head of his cock over my wet pussy. I groan and try to press back. “Quit teasing me,” I complain.

He laughs, pushing inside me in one tight, quick stroke. I moan loudly as I feel myself clench around him. He slides in and out, faster and faster until the only noise is our labored breathing and the sound of skin hitting skin.

Afterward, we lay together, legs entwined as we catch our breath.

“Shit,” Jase says. “I didn’t wear a condom. Either time.”

“It’s fine,” I say, playing with his hand absently. “I’m on the pill.”

I wait for him to ask more questions. To ask me horrible things like whether his father wore a condom all those times, but thankfully, he doesn’t.

It’s fragile, this peace of ours, but while it lasts?

It’s fucking perfect.

While Jase makes us breakfast, I bite the proverbial bullet and call Elliot. I’m nervous, so nervous my hands are shaking as I dial the number to the tattoo studio from the landline. I still haven’t picked up a new phone after Jase smashed mine in a fit of rage. Elliot answers on the third ring, and I smile as I hear his voice.

“El,” I say, my smile so wide he can probably hear it. “It’s Julz.”

There’s a pause, and I hear him clear his throat. “Hey.” His tone is guarded, standoffish, and I scramble to fill the awkward silence.

The words are tumbling out of my mouth before I even know what I’m saying. “I just wanted to call and tell you I’m sorry about the other night.” My heart is thudding painfully in my chest, and I’m hyper-aware of Jase’s proximity as he flips eggs in the kitchen.

“Uh-huh.”

“I shouldn’t have made you leave. I’m sorry, Elliot.” I suck at apologies. They always come out awkward and stilted.

“Yeah, well,” he says. “I did kind of break in and interrupt you, so it’s not all your fault.”

“You were just trying to make sure I was okay,” I say quickly, relieved that he’s talking and that he doesn’t seem too mad at me.

“How’s loverboy?” Elliot asks, chuckling. “Hope his pretty face isn’t too messed up.”

I roll my eyes, hearing the obvious pleasure in his voice over smashing Jase’s face in. “You should see the other guy,” I joke.

There’s a brief silence, and while I’m thinking of how to fill it, Elliot does it for me.

“You sound … happy,” he says, and he sounds anything but. Which kills me.

“I am,” I say falteringly. “At least, I think I am. I will be. Once I take Dornan and his other sons out. Then I can finally be free.”

I hear Elliot clearing his throat.

“You made me happy too, you know,” I say quietly. “Do you know?”

More throat clearing. “Yeah,” he replies. “I just went and fucked it all up, though.”

I chuckle, but there’s no humor in the sound. It’s like a cross between a dry-heave and a sob. “I fucked it all up, El. But that’s lovely of you to take the blame.”

“Any time.”

“I have to go,” I say softly,

“I’ll always be here for you, you know that, right?” His breathing is heavy. His words weighed down with everything.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Always.”

“But, Julz,” he continues, his tone making my breath hitch. “I need you to not call me for a little while, okay? Unless you’re in trouble, or something, but otherwise, just … I need some space, okay?”

I swallow thickly. Don’t cry. “Okay,” I whisper, and then the line goes dead.