I shook and cried as he kissed me, slowly trailing his mouth across my cheek and biting my lips.
“That smart mouth,” he whispered, “and that soft skin that doesn’t taste like anything but you.” He gripped my panties in his hand, and I gasped as he tore them off my body.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop. No.
But the words never left my I lips. They never did, because I loved him. I always wanted him.
He unfastened his belt and pants and pushed inside me, finding me just as wet as I always was. I let out a cry, feeling him fill me.
“You can say whatever you want”—he thrust harder, stretching me and filling me and making my knees bend up to get him deeper—“but you can’t give me up any more than I can give you up. It will never be over.”
He layered our lips, my bottom one between both of his like he always did, both of us breathing and panting, doing the only thing we knew how to do. The only thing he wanted from me.
I stopped crying, and everything turned numb as he thrust into me and panted, and I moaned as we both came.
This is what we were. It was all we’d ever be. There would never be anything more.
He lay on top of me, his chest rising and falling on mine, and I couldn’t hear anything. All around me was like white noise, and as much as I tuned my ears, I couldn’t hear or see what was next. I couldn’t see tomorrow. I couldn’t see Jared or me. There was nothing.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the sobs in my stomach building and tightening until I felt like I was going to scream.
I’d dropped the ball. I’d given him too much power over me.
I barely existed anymore.
My head hung to the side, and I pushed out from underneath him. I sunk to the floor, my torn panties lying beside me.
“I love you,” I whispered, staring at nothing ahead of me. “But please stay away from me. Please.”
His voice was quiet and strained. “I can’t.”
I dropped my head, my chest shaking and tears spilling over. Grabbing my purse from where it had fallen, I ran to the door. But before I could open it, he was up and off the couch, and his body was behind mine, caging me in and keeping me from leaving.
I cried, turning around and feeling nothing but despair. “Look at me,” I pleaded. “Look what you’ve done to me.”
His eyes were turning red, and I saw tears pooling. He swallowed, finally looking like he had no idea what to say me. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
I stared at him, holding his eyes. Could he see how I looked? Did he care that I was suffering?
“Then let me go,” I told him. “Please let me go. If you love me at all . . .”
I turned to leave, but he slammed his hand against the door, his breath shaking his chest with each inhalation.
“Kat, please,” he begged in a whisper. “Please don’t do this.”
I pulled the door open anyway, refusing to turn around and look at him. But I turned my head just enough for him to hear me.
“You said you were going to give me everything, and you didn’t. You can’t,” I charged. “I would’ve eventually gotten away from Thomas, but you?” Tears started falling again as pain filled my chest and my gut. “You’ve made a mess of me.”
Chapter 8
Kat . . .
Charging through the school, my heels dug into the floors, their clacking echoing down the hallway as I made my way to the main office. This was the fourth time this year I’d been summoned to Jared’s school either to take him home or to meet with the principal about his behavior.
Everything was fine before last summer. Or somewhat fine. I should never have let Thomas take him. Jared had been off the rails ever since, and I knew why, but he refused to let me help, and I was at my wits’ end. Thank goodness that bastard was in jail now.
But even so, the damage was done, and my son was different. He was more like his father than ever now.
I barged through the heavy wooden door and entered the office, stopping and immediately scanning for Jared.
Seeing him and another boy sitting in the chairs along the wall, I couldn’t help but lash out.
“Bullying?” I burst out. “I’m absolutely disgusted. What were you thinking?”
Jared stared ahead, looking bored and ignoring me.
“It wasn’t bullying,” someone grumbled, and I looked to the kid a couple of chairs down from him. “Josh Rutgers is such a baby.”
I’d never seen the kid before, but I gathered he and Jared were in this together.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
He smiled, holding out a hand. “Madoc Caruthers. You’re my brother’s mother, huh?”
Brother’s mother. Caruthers. “What?”
I took in the blond hair, the demanding blue eyes, the expensive shoes and brown leather jacket, the stylish roll to his jeans . . . Oh, Christ.
“Like, how old are you?” he asked, giving me a nice, long once-over that was completely inappropriate. “Were you ten when you had Jared?”
“Caruthers,” I repeated, ignoring his flirting as I walked over to the boys. “Is your father Jase Caruthers?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“No,” I snapped and turned away, looking to Jared. “Get up.”
He rolled his eyes and stood up, following me up to the receptionist’s counter.
Shit. They were friends. How did I not know that?
Mrs. Bauer, the principal’s assistant, saw us and stopped what she was doing to approach. “The principal had to leave for a meeting,” she informed me. “But Jared’s suspended for three days. He’s responsible for staying caught up on his work while he’s gone. You need to sign this.”