Page 76 of Into the Dark

He lets go of my wrists, moving to unbutton and unzip his pants himself before pushing them along with his briefs down over his hips. He’s almost fully hard, I’m relieved to see, the tip wet and red. My mouth waters, desire pulsing inside me.

“Okay, baby. Make me come with your mouth.”

I don’t need any further encouragement. I sink to my knees in front of him and wrap my hand loosely around his erection. The kitchen floor is cold and hard on my knees, but I barely notice. Make me come with your mouth. I wonder if he said it as a command to make himself feel more in control. I’m not sure who is in control here, but when I lean in to lick my tongue across the wet tip he trembles almost violently, a groan tearing from his throat that makes me feel powerful. As I stroke him with one hand I run my fingernails across his torso, over the sprinkling of hair and the hot, tense muscles that strain and flex beneath my touch. He watches with an aroused expression as I kiss my way across his stomach, over the tattoo of his son’s initials, and down.

When I finally close my mouth around him he lets out a curse, his hands moving to hold my head steady as I take him deeper. I lick my tongue up the underside, moaning softly as the taste of him fills my mouth, sweet and salty hardness encased in soft male skin. Keeping ahold of the base, I withdraw, suckling the tip before taking him back inside. I hold my breath as I draw him to the far back of my throat, which causes Jake to grip my hair and let out a deep, satisfying groan. I can only hold him there for a few seconds before my throat forces him out, so I repeat the motion again and again, sucking hard as I massage and twist the base. When I pull him out of my mouth and lick greedily over the tip again, savoring the taste of the steady pulse of moisture, he leans forward and braces one hand on the counter to steady himself.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he gasps, pulling my head back onto him while he begins to move his hips. I know he’s close, and so I intensify my movements, sucking harder, massaging the soft, tender parts between his legs, squeezing my throat when I feel him hit the back of it. It takes only another minute before I feel his body tremble and still, before he holds my jaw and comes hard. Bitter and hot, his climax pours onto my tongue, aided by the rough, quick thrust of his hips as he fucks my mouth. I barely taste it, can barely breathe as I swallow him, as I make sure he sees me swallow every last drop.

When it’s over and his breathing slows, he steps back and gazes down at me, a calmness exuding from him now that wasn’t there before. I stand as gracefully as I can, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth as he pulls up his boxers and pants and rights his belt.

“I love you,” I say, reaching up to kiss him.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth, moaning when he tastes himself. Pulling back, he reaches out and brushes his thumb softly across my bottom lip. “I love you too,” he replies in a faraway tone.

I fold myself against his chest, sighing when I feel his arms come around to pull me tightly against his body. His heart thunders against my cheek, his breathing still fast from his climax. He kisses the top of my head and takes a long, deep breath in, and we stand like that for a few long seconds while our breathing returns to normal. Then he unfurls me from his arms and steps back.

“I need to go,” he says.

I blink at him, stupefied. “Go? Go where?”

Dropping his gaze from mine, he tucks his shirt into his pants and brushes a hand through his hair. “The club. I’ve only been there once this week. I should drop in, make sure it’s still running.” He adjusts the collar of his shirt and runs his hand over the back of his neck, all the while not looking in my direction.

I’m such a bloody idiot. I lost this stupid game. Of course I did. I can still taste him on my mouth and it only makes me feel more stupid.

“Look at me,” I say, and he does. The look in his eye isn’t angry anymore. It’s resigned and sort of sad. “Say it, Jake. Whatever it is, just bloody say it.”

“Some space will do us good tonight,” is what he says.

“Space from what?” There’s a weird sort of panic in my chest. A tremor.

“Um, I don’t know, Alex. How about the fact you just gave me a pretty good fucking visual as to what might have been between you and your friend across the fucking Channel?”

I feel like he just hit me. “Are you actually serious?”

“Do I look fucking serious?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not too bad yourself, baby.”

Something snaps inside me then. I want to hit him. We were past this. This was in the bloody past. “Fine. You so desperately want to know about France? The sordid detail of what happened over there? I was a bloody mess, Jake. A mess. I slept for days on end, and I cried myself to sleep every night. I questioned everything about myself—who I was, what I’d done, who I wanted to be.” My voice is surprisingly calm as I stare him down.

Jake stares back at me, all sorts of emotions moving over his face, none of which stay long enough for me to grip on them.

“You broke my heart, Jake. That day in here you broke my heart. Not a clean break either. A messy, torn break that felt like having a limb ripped off. Yes, it was my choice. I told you to go, but really, what choice did I actually have? What else could I have done that day except ask you to leave me? I did the only thing I could do.” I take a deep breath, and when I speak again my voice is softer. “Then there was someone else—someone who wasn’t you. I wasn’t looking for anyone, and I didn’t want anyone. Not at first anyway. Not at all, because the only person I could see was you. You were everywhere. Except you weren’t. You weren’t there, and you weren’t him, and he wasn’t you. He wasn’t even close to being you, but I wanted to feel something other than the pain and loss and absence of you. So then there was a moment…a moment where I let him kiss me because I hoped it would make me forget about you. I wanted him for a fraction of a moment. Then it was gone, and you were all that was left.”

He stares at me for a long time without saying anything, without blinking even. Then, “You think you were the only one with a broken heart, Alex? You think you owned that shit all by yourself? What the fuck do you think I was doing for the six weeks we were apart? I lost you too, Alex—remember that, yeah?”

I realize I have nothing to respond with. So I don’t.

When he speaks again his voice is softer. “But not once did it cross my mind to want another woman. Not for a fucking moment. I didn’t even want to look at another woman who wasn’t you because no one else existed for me. I couldn’t fucking breathe I missed you so much.” He scrubs his hand over his face, pain etched across it so deeply I want to cry. “But I guess we all deal with things differently, don’t we, baby?”

“Jake, I’m sorry. Please, let’s not do this again.” I go to move toward him, but he moves first. He moves away from me to where his car keys sit on the dining table and his jacket lies in a ball where he dumped it when we came in.

“I just…I just need to think, okay?” he says with a sigh. There’s no anger in his voice at all now, almost no weight at all. It’s soft, even gentle, and it makes everything seem worse somehow.

I can deal with Jake’s rage. I know what to expect from that. But this… This is awful.