probably not one of them.
Cyrus and Sammy helped me design the home gym for him. When they went to see him, he told them that working out was what he did to keep out of trouble. So it made sense to have one at home for him.
I was still shocked at myself for my little outburst out in the backyard, but I’d had enough. He needed to hear my thoughts. I imagined what it would be like to have angry sex with him. It was probably dirty, hard, rough, and downright filthy.
Jaron needed more than just physical contact. He needed to talk. To me. To a professional. To someone.
I had heard of people having PTSD after getting released from jail. Stupid me thought that he wasn’t in it long enough for that to happen, but I was clearly wrong. I didn’t know what he had done to survive. He wouldn’t tell me. God, I wish he would tell me. Just something. Anything. I needed to hear his voice. But he closed up. Completely.
My thoughts traveled back to how he used to be. He had been dominant when I first slept with him but now, he was worse. My core clenched, remembering the way he had control of my body. The tension had been building ever since he got home. I almost expected something to happen tonight, but it didn’t. It threw me off. Jaron had never been a gentleman when it came to sex. It was one of the many things I loved about him because I was the same way. I enjoyed when he threw me up against the wall and took what he wanted, giving me everything in return just the same. But nothing happened. I needed it. I needed him. That rough side of him. He knew I could take it. It would happen. In time. Because I knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Eventually he would snap and give me everything that I wanted.
Placing my hand on the doorknob, I took a breath and then another. He needed to get out of his head. Working out and sex, they were the only ways I knew would help him. I would be his therapy. Whatever he needed. And whenever he was ready to talk, I would be there as well.
Before I changed my mind and ran, I opened the door and stepped into the gym.
Jaron sat on a bench, wiping the sweat off his face.
Every inch of me came alive. The tiny hairs on my body tingled. My stomach tumbled. My heart raced.
His head popped up, his dark slate eyes meeting mine before roaming down the length of me. He sat up straighter, tossing the towel to the floor. He pulled the earbuds from his ears before setting his phone on the bench behind him.
No words passed between us.
My heart picked up speed, pounding in my ears like tiny little drums.
Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it.
He watched me and waited. I could almost hear him saying, ‘You want something, come and get it.’
The few times we had been together, he was in full control. Well tonight, it was my turn. It wouldn’t last for long, but I could have some control for a little bit at least.
I pushed away from the door and took a step toward him.
We were alone. Just he and I
This was our time. Our moment. Just Jaron and me. One of many moments that we needed. That everyone knew we needed.
He leaned back the closer I got to him.
Once I stood directly in front of him, he spread his knees. Accepting that as my invitation, I stepped between them.
No matter how many times I had seen him in them, the gray sweatpants always did it for me. Especially when he wore them with a white t-shirt.
Jaron reached up, cupping the back of my thighs and leaning his forehead against my chest. Inhaling deep, a rough growl escaped him. His hold on my thighs tightened.
My breath caught. Inching my hands into his dark hair, it took everything in me not to just throw myself at him.
Touch me. Kiss me. Destroy me.
I didn’t need his dirty words. Hell, I didn’t even need foreplay. I could feel my desire for him dripping down my inner thighs. I wondered if he could smell it. We had been so damned in tune with each other; it was almost unnatural.
Sliding his hands up the back of my thighs, he grazed his fingers over the