Page 126 of Shamed
Keys in hand, I walk back down the hall and shove through my apartment door, then I ride the elevator back down to the parking garage.
Twenty minutes later, I’m climbing the steps of her apartment, my heart pounding in my throat.
I knock a little harder than intended, then hold my breath, waiting for any sound from the other side.
A second later, I hear the floorboards creaking from inside, then the door swings open.
Jayne’s eyes are bloodshot, but there are no tears, no indication of emotion.
She steps back, motioning for me to enter, as if she was expecting me, which doesn’t make me feel any better.
Slowly, I step inside, feeling the chill of her apartment and maybe from the atmosphere in here, then I turn around to face her, watching as she closes the door behind me.
“What’s going on?” I ask. She keeps her focus on the closed door, her back to me. “Talk to me, Jayne.”
Seconds pass before she finally turns around, and without warning, she rushes at me, lifting her hands to pull my head down to her mouth.
I’m stunned, unmoving at first, but her tongue delves between my parted lips, her kiss fierce and persistent.
After the initial surprise, I place my hands on her shoulders, attempting to keep a cool head because we desperately need to talk. “Jayne,” I mumble against her lips, but she doesn’t stop. And god, her lips feel good. “Just hold on a second.”
She keeps kissing me, trying to coax me, her lips grazing my jaw.
When she reaches down to rub me over my sweats, I fold, returning the kiss and wrapping my arms around her back to pull her closer.
I can’t seem to deny her anything. Every time she’s near, every time she fucking breathes in my direction, everything else fades away.
I get caught up in my hunger for her, forgetting why I’m here, forgetting what happened, forgetting my worry.
Her hands slip under my shirt and jacket to stroke my skin, the cool touch of her fingers making gooseflesh appear.
Little sounds drift from her lips while she rubs her body against mine, like she’s trying to meld our bodies together.
My cock is already responding, the memory of what it feels like to be deep inside her fueling my desire.
I lay kisses down her throat, grinding into her, squeezing her breast and ass with each hand.
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispers, angling her head to give me more room. “I want you to hold me down and take what you want, just like you want to.”
My body stills, and I rip my mouth away from her neck, my chest heaving while I stare down at her. “What?”
Licking her lips, she tries to bring me closer again. “I said fuck me, Mase. Take me roughly, use me.”
I pull back completely, separating myself from her, a deep V forming between my brows. “Wh-why would you say that?” Taking a few steps away, I rough a hand through my hair, then turn back. “I don’t want you like that, Jayne, especially not when something’s clearly wrong.”
Her eyes fall to the floor, fingers twisting together. “I’m sorry.”
“Tell me what the fuck is going on with you.”
She shakes her head, arms curling around her waist. “I . . .”
When she doesn’t say anything more, I step closer, drawing her gaze back up to me. “Tell me why you left. Tell me why you have such low self-worth; why you work at that fucking club.” I reach for her hand and slide her sleeve up, my stomachplummeting when I see a fresh cut. “Tell me why you’re hurting yourself like this.”
Tears fill her eyes and then spill over, tracking down her cheeks.
“Fuck, tell mesomething, Jayne,” I beg, my voice coming out raw. “I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
I don’t know what the fuck I could do, but at least I’d be here with her.
