Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,75
to let him know she would do her thing on her own time.
“Now, Jersey. Don’t fuck with me. I need to leave.”
She followed him, crossing her arms over her chest as Ian turned toward her in the corner of the pantry, and the door eased shut behind her.
“You’re not a whore.” His jaw muscles pulsed. “You’re not a victim anymore. You’re not even homeless, or starving, or at anyone’s mercy. So why the fuck did you suck my dick, vomit, and tell your friend about it? I didn’t ask you to do it. If it’s some trigger for you, then why? Why would you do that?” A stomach-turning mix of anger and pain gripped him, torturing him with regret.
Jersey clenched her jaw as well, controlling her response with a few seconds of silence as he scowled, demanding an answer.
Ian waited.
No response.
She stared at his chest.
He wanted to shake the truth from her, but that would make him a hypocrite. So … he gave her time. But when she didn’t move or speak, time ran out.
On a painful sigh, he brushed past her, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed toward the front door.
“Coop?”
He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, his back to her voice. Her feet padded toward him, and she wedged herself between him and the door, sliding her hands around his neck. When she tugged on him, he leaned down, resting his forehead on hers and closing his eyes.
“I … I wanted to do that. And I wanted to like it. I didn’t want it to be a trigger. I didn’t want anyone to see me running to the bathroom to vomit.”
“Jersey …” he whispered, lazily rolling his forehead against hers. “Don’t let him touch you.”
Her head moved into a barely detectable nod, but he felt it, and it felt like hope. She pecked at his lips, but he didn’t want to give in so easily. A stubborn part of him wanted to stay pissed off at her. But he couldn’t put half a world between them without making things right. So he kissed her until the only thing holding her upright was his arms around her body.
She rubbed her lips together, letting a small grin slip. He smiled, feeling it in his veins like the ultimate high.
“Wish me luck, Jersey.” He cradled the back of her head and kissed the top of it.
She rested a flat hand on his chest over his heart. “Luck, Coop.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jersey gave Chris the silent treatment for the next twenty-four hours. As they ate dinner, she set down her fork and asked the question that gnawed at her.
“Why?”
“Oh. Are we speaking again?” He glanced up from his plate.
“If you want me to get close to him, why say something to piss him off?”
“Him? Are you sure I didn’t piss you off as well?”
“Yes. You pissed me off too. You’re trying to derail everything I’ve done.”
He coughed, bringing his napkin to his mouth. “Sorry. I’m a little lost. Aside from screwing him, what exactly have you done?”
“Trust, asshole. I’m gaining his trust. If he trusts me, then he tells me everything.”
“Fine, buttercup. But while you’re fucking the trust out of him, I’m doing the real work. I’m the reason Max looked into your past. I’m the one who put that bug in her ear, innocently expressing my concerns over your past and how it might affect our favorite rock star. I’m the one who sucker punched him with the truth about the post-concert blowjob. And you know…” he leaned back in his chair, pushing his plate away from the edge of the table “…I think good cop/bad cop is the way to go. I plant seeds of doubt in his mind; you swoop in to ride his dick and reassure him that all is well. That way, he’ll never see it coming.”
“See what coming?” Jersey stared out the window at the pool.
“The end.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just … I’m not sure we have the right person.”
“Oh, Jers …” He chuckled some more. “Let’s go into a dark room. Let me bury my face between your legs for ten minutes, and I bet you’ll forget what I look like, who I am, and that I was threatened with death if I touched you.”
“You’re an asshole.” She controlled the urge to crawl across the table and bludgeon him with her fists—because a small part of him was right. Ian manipulated her with words, a look, a touch. Only, he wasn’t