 
## A Story With No Title

## Learning to Love

by Erin Lancaster

Published by Erin Lancaster at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Erin Lancaster

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this independent author.

This is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the writer's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The author recognizes the various trademark owners of the various products referenced in this work of fiction which have been used without permission. The use and publication of these trademarks are not associated with, authorized or sponsored by those trademark owners.
Foreword

In this eBook, the character named Erin Lancaster is not me personally (we just share a name). The character Jesse Gillespie is merely the inspiration for the Jesse Gillespie in Guardian Angel _,_ so he's a bit different.

This story centers around a few main characters with secondary characters sometimes taking the focus for a moment or two, and the point of view changes occasionally. I point out these changes by putting their name in larger, bold print when it switches. Occasionally, as these point of view switches are made, I may back up in time for a moment or parallel the time before bringing the story back to the "present."
Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Revelations

Chapter 2: Trick

Chapter 3: Serious Discussion

Chapter 4: Ton of Bricks

Chapter 5: Puppy Love

Chapter 6: You Hurt Me

Chapter 7: Pandora's Box

Chapter 8: Addictive

Chapter 9: Beyond the Boundaries of Friendship

Chapter 10: Leftovers

Chapter 11: Good Behavior

Chapter 12: Barely In Control

Chapter 13: Shocked

Chapter 14: Good Boy/Bad Boy

Chapter 15: Baby Love

Chapter 16: Blackmail

Chapter 17: On the Phone

Chapter 18: Speaking of Torture

Chapter 19: Stark Raving Mad

Chapter 20: Fantastically Terrible

Chapter 21: The Question

Chapter 22: The Answer

Chapter 23: Magic Words

Chapter 24: Your House

Chapter 25: Noah Jones

About the Author

Other titles by this author

Connect with Erin

# Chapter 1: Revelations

### Erin

Bryce had to go to work early, and I feel like I'm a chaperone for Marie when the two of us go ahead and go to Jesse's house.

I think if someone walked up behind Marie right now and said 'boo!,' she'd die of heart failure. She's so nervous! Back home, we'd say she's 'as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.'

Marie decided to make an apple cobbler when she found a Dutch oven and some apples. I guess she wanted something to do. Jesse told her to go right ahead. He looks a little lost in his own kitchen with the two of us in here doing stuff.

I look over at him and say, "Jesse, why don't you go find something to do outside. You're making me nervous just standing there with nothing to do."

"Isn't there _something_ I could do in here?" he asks pathetically.

I look at Marie. She looks around the kitchen and dining table where we have set up everything but food, and she shrugs.

"We've got everything covered in here," she answers.

He looks like he's trying not to pout as he shuffles out of the kitchen and the backdoor. I get the strong suspicion that he'd hoped to get Marie alone. I feel like a third wheel, but I also feel like she silently begs me to stick around.

I decide to make a little small talk. "So, you're from Bergerac?" I ask.

"Oui," she answers with a small grin before turning back around to do something or other with the stovetop.

"I have a cousin that grew up there. I wonder if you knew her."

"The city isn't terribly big, maybe I do. What's her name?"

"Cristina," I answer.

Marie freezes, facing away from me still. Then she turns around and looks at me very critically.

"Did you know her?" I ask again.

"Cristina Haynes?"

I smile. "Yes! That's her! So you _did_ know her!" I'm happy. My cousin is a little spoiled, but she's also a lot of fun to be around. I think Marie is her age too. Cristina went to live over there when my uncle got a job teaching English.

"You're her cousin?!" Her voice raises. Then her hand covers her face as she mumbles, "The one who's fiancé cheated on her. Why didn't I put this together? Small world."

"I guess it makes sense that you know her since you're-"

"I hate her," Marie says icily and leaves the kitchen after turning off the burner on the stove.

I'd been about to say that they might know each other because they're the same age, but after Marie storms out, I stand here with my mouth agape, not understanding. _She hates her? ... Is Marie the 'bully' that Cristina talked about?_

I can't imagine Marie being a bully, but then again, I don't know her that well.

### Marie

_No! No! No! How can it be that I'm making a friend and she has to be_ her _cousin?_ I think angrily as I storm out of the house.

Jesse stands at his mailbox and looks up, surprised to see me.

_I've had it! Coming here has done_ nothing _to help me! My problems followed me!_

I try desperately to keep the tears from falling as I storm off towards the road. I don't mind walking back to my apartment.

"Whoa! Where are you going? What's wrong?" I hear Jesse say as he trots up behind me.

"I want to go home," I say, and some tears escape. "Back to France! Everywhere I go, my problems show up!"

"What?! No!" he cries out, and his arms wrap tightly around me like he thinks that simply holding onto me will keep me from leaving.

I easily break his hold, but he obstinately keeps getting a hold of me in one way or another, preventing me from getting any farther no matter how many times I physically hurt him.

"Stop. Please! Tell me what happened!" he begs.

"Erin is Cristina's cousin!"

"Who?"

"Daniel's ex that he cheated on me with," I let out in a hiccupping cry.

I hear the cousin of that evil witch say, "Marie, wait!"

"Why should I?" I snap. "Who's to say you're not exactly the same!" I momentarily give up on getting Jesse to stop trying to hold onto me.

"I'm not!"

"I don't know why I didn't see it before! You look just like her!" I snap. In the very back of my mind, I realize I'm losing it and not making much sense, but I don't care. All I see is Cristina in glasses in front of me.

"Marie, at least explain to me why you're so mad," she asks of me.

"Do you know what your cousin did to me?"

"Not really."

"When she was done visiting you in your home town, she came back to steal my boyfriend!" I pant. "I moved here to get away from the mess _she_ caused!" I take a breath, and my anger takes control. "And I arrive to only find her in another form!"

"Wait... you're that girl that was always hanging around Daniel?" she asks, and I'm seething.

"Only because he was my best friend!" I answer, feeling a little defensive as well. "She would _try_ to say I wanted to steal him, but I _had_ a boyfriend already!" I yell into her crumbling face. _Yeah, Armand, who turned out to be an abusive jerk._

"Whatever happened, it's not my fault!" she cries.

The red in my vision slowly clears as I stand here while Erin cries. _She's not Cristina._ It's just she looks so much like her that the second Erin mentioned her, Cristina was all I could see. I feel like such a bitch.

"I'm sorry, Erin," I say lamely as I stand here, numb, not moving. I have no idea what Jesse is thinking of the scene in front of him. I think that it's possible he hasn't gotten past me saying I was leaving. I can feel him watching me like a hawk.

Erin dries her eyes and looks at me like she's trying to understand.

I decide to continue with my apology. "I don't know what came over me."

"What did she do?" Erin asks.

I take a deep breath and prepare to tell her. I fully expect her to try and contradict me. "When she got back to Bergerac, she got overly friendly with him. He assured me nothing was happening, but then his brother brought me out to where they'd agreed to meet, and I saw with my own eyes he was lying." I do my best to avoid saying Daniel's name because I hate doing it.

Erin wipes a mildly-shaking hand across her forehead and says, "She said she wanted to get him back when I left, and that she was going back home to do just that."

"Well, it worked," I snap.

"If he'd moved on so easily, she shouldn't have gone after him again. I'd wondered before, but this Daniel sounds like a real piece of work," she says in a steady voice. "I knew what she was going to do, and I told her it was a bad idea, but she can be pretty stubborn."

"You're not going to stand here and try to defend your cousin?" I ask, surprised.

She shrugs. "No. I believe you. She's spoiled. And it matches up with what I know of her and what you've told me," she answers.

I need to go sit down. I'd expected a fight. I was prepared for a fight, and now that the adrenaline rush is over, I'm exhausted.

"You're not still leaving, are you?" she asks earnestly.

"No. I don't know what I was thinking."

She nods and says, "Well, there's an apple cobbler that needs finishing."

I look at the ground and say, "It doesn't need anything. I need to sit down for a while."

"Okay," she says, turns around, and heads up the stairs to enter the house.

Apple cobbler now feels like a strange thing to fix for a pool party, but I needed a distraction while in Jesse's kitchen.

I walk inside and flop down on what Jesse says is a new couch and stare at my flip-flops. Jesse follows me in and sits down next to me. I really wish he wouldn't. I just want to think, and I can't think with him sitting next to me.

I'm going to have to talk to Erin some more later about this, obviously, but I can't right now. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Cristina is her cousin and that she didn't try to defend her cousin at all costs.

"Are you alright?" Jesse asks me quietly after about a minute of silence goes by.

I sigh exasperatedly. "Jesse, do I _look_ alright?"

"Just asking," he says defensively.

"I'm sorry. I just had everything hit me in the face like it just happened again. I guess the shock that I didn't actually run away from it."

"That's really annoying how crap will up and 'hit you in the face,' like you said, without warning." he says, I guess trying to be helpful.

I sit up and close my eyes as I ask, "Jesse, can I just be alone right now?"

"Please don't ask me to leave," he begs quietly.

That does it. The raw emotion in his voice breaks through, and I start crying. I double over from the pain around my heart.

Jesse makes attempts to grab my shoulders to, I guess, pull me up to him. I fight him off several times.

"Dammit, Marie. Would you just let me help?" he finally asks.

I let out a pathetic, whining sound and stop fighting him off. I'm as floppy as a rag doll as he pulls me up.

"My best friend," I say simply in between little cries.

"I know," he says like he finally understands.

He thankfully doesn't try anything, although by the time I've calmed down, I can tell he doesn't really want to let go. I can't decide if that's sweet or annoying. For something neutral to do, I guess, he switches on the TV, and Erin comes in and sits on the other side of me. We sit and watch some cheesy romantic comedy. My why-did-I-fix-this apple cobbler finishes, and Erin asks me to go over to Bryce's with her for a second so she can change into her swimsuit.

On the short walk over there, I ask her, "We're wearing swimsuits? I don't have mine."

She bites her lip for a second before she answers. "You could borrow one from me, or if you want, I'll loan you my scooter so you can go get yours."

I opt for the scooter plan. I'm glad Jesse isn't around us when Erin offers the options. I can just see him jumping at the chance to drive me over to my apartment and back.

### Jesse

Erin and Marie go over to Bryce's for a minute so they can change since it's about five now. I wonder where Marie is when I see only Erin walk out of the house and down the stairs to my backyard.

"Where's Marie?" I ask her, hoping I'm not too obvious.

She picks up one of the glasses of drinks I made and answers, "I let her borrow my scooter so she could go and get her swimsuit."

"Oh," I say. "I could've driven her over there if she needed a ride."

Erin smiles a little, knowing smile at me and says, "She was also curious about driving my scooter since she's thinking about getting one herself."

People start trickling in, and I honestly forget whatever it was Erin and I were talking about when Marie shows back up.

_Oh holy shit, she's wearing a bikini!_ I instantly become irritated that I have to calm down the wild animal in my trunks as she walks down the stairs. _What am I? Fifteen?_

She stops at the bottom of them and stares at the ocean. I can't help but wonder if she's thinking about that other guy, what's-his-name.

Erin watches me and starts acting weird. She's trying not to laugh when I look back over at her.

"Are you going to stand there drooling, or are you gonna go talk to her?" she asks me very quietly.

I scowl at her. _She thinks she needs to tell me what to do? She's got another thing coming if she does._ "She probably doesn't want me to run over to her... yet."

"Yes she does," Erin answers unexpectedly, and I look at her suspiciously.

I hadn't realized I said the last bit aloud. I know if I go over there now, I will probably make a fool of myself because I feel like some kid who doesn't know what he's doing... almost.

Grinning, Erin walks over to the hot tub to talk to Lynne and Troy. I hadn't even noticed they had arrived.

_Tonight._ Please _tonight before I go mad._

Marie turns her head and looks at me, I guess because she can feel me staring at her. Her eyes narrow slightly, and she cocks her hip. I grin. _Game on._

She eyes me suspiciously as I walk over to her.

"Nice suit," I say.

She shrugs and says, "It was the first one I could find that matched."

Translation: All or mostly all of her suits are bikinis.

Down boy!

"Well, it looks good on you," I say. "Want a drink?" I ask, and the irony hits me that I'm asking her what she pretty much asks everyone at the bar all the time.

She nods a little. "Yeah okay. One."

_One. I've heard that before. Hm, really don't want her drunk though._ I smile, turn, and take her hand. As I pull her along, I put it behind me and hold her little fingers up to my back. There's a slight tug to get her hand back like there was this afternoon, but I tighten my grip just a second before letting go on my own once we reach the bar.

I'm going to make you beg.

I take a drink myself, and we stand here as I try to convince her to teach me taekwondo. That whole 'don't date the teacher' thing is a load of bull. It has to be; it's completely crazy.

That's a square knot around her neck.

"I thought you were going to introduce me to your friends," she points out, irritated from our discussion/argument.

"Oh yeah, sure." I smile in an attempt to keep the peace.

She already knows Desmond. Apparently, he knows her dad too. I get a little annoyed at the way he looks at her, although I can't say I blame him.

I remember that she'd already met a few of my friends, sort of, as their waitress but never in a situation like this one where she could actually talk. We stand around and mingle, and I honestly _try_ not to hover.

### Erin

Jesse's hot tub calls to me, and I decide to go over and soak with Lynne, Troy, and Belinda. I put down my drink next to where I decide to sit while the three of them greet me.

Once I'm seated, Belinda turns to look at me and say, "You'll never guess who I ran into the other day."

"You're right. I'll never guess," I agree. "Who?"

"Your ex-fiancé, Sean."

I go instantly on alert.

"Calm down," she says quickly. "He's left."

"Huh?" I ask, surprised.

"He left the island and went back home," she clarifies, still not really helping me.

Lynne speaks up, "He won't be bothering you anymore."

"How did this happen?" I ask, my shock still in control.

"We had a little... talk, and I convinced him to leave," she answers with an almost-smug expression on her face.

"You just _talked_ to him?!" I ask, incredulous.

_"Lynne can be... a little intense sometimes,"_ Bryce's voice echoes in my head from the other day.

"Yes. Don't worry anymore about it," she states and leans back with her hands behind her head.

Troy sits quietly and listens to the three of us. I realize I've never even said a word to him ever -- not that I know what to say now.

I make the decision to just go with it.

_Sean is gone. He left the island. He gave up. Thank God._ I take a deep breath and relax back against the edge of the hot tub. _I'm free._

I spend some time getting to know Belinda a little. I like her. She's got a quirky sense of humor.

Troy and Lynne start getting a little more friendly. It gets harder and harder to ignore them.

Belinda pipes up when she can't take it anymore. "Would you two get a _room_?!"

The two of them laugh a little before going right back to what they were doing before.

A little breeze blows Marie's conversation with Jesse over to me.

"I keep forgetting to ask you. I left some clothes in your car the other day, and I was wondering -"

He interrupts her. "Oh, yeah. I found them and washed them. They're upstairs."

# Chapter 2: Trick

### Marie

My mouth drops open in mild shock. "I didn't expect you to wash them for me."

"Why not?"

I don't think I need to tell him I'm surprised he even _does_ laundry. "Uh, okay. Where upstairs?"

"I put them out of the way for the party. They're up in my office. C'mon," he answers me, and I numbly follow him into his house and up the stairs.

We get up the stairs, and I walk into his office. I see a little shopping bag, maybe even the very same one I'd used, propped up against the wall near his desk.

"Here they are," he says and holds the bag out for me to take. When I move to take it, he quickly pulls it back out of my reach.

"What?" I ask and look up at his face to see him grinning at me. _Oh no._ "Jesse..." I say in warning. _We're alone up here, and most of the guests have already left._

"You know," he says, still grinning, "maybe I should keep them."

"What?!"

"I could make an exchange..." He leaves the possibility hanging. "What will you give me in exchange for the clothes?"

I cant help but laugh a little at his boyish expression. "Keep the clothes then, Jesse. I'm not bargaining with you." As I move past him to walk towards the door and leave, his arm pops out and stops me.

The shock from the feel of his warm hand on my bare skin makes it nearly impossible to stop him from pulling me towards him. I feel irritatingly weak from a feeling of excited trepidation.

"Not even a little bit?" he asks almost teasingly.

_Pull yourself together, Marie! Arm's length!_ I think rapidly and push at his naked chest. His other arm whips around me after it throws the bag on the floor, and he pulls me flush against him, shocking me further.

"Let me go," I say quickly, unable to mask my slight fear.

"Why?" he asks, and I don't answer him. "Why are you afraid?"

"I'm not," I answer stubbornly.

"Yes, you are. You're shaking," he states in a calm voice.

I try to use a move to get his arms out from around me, but I can't get the right leverage, not to mention I have no strength at the moment, to pull it off. I could always knee him, but I hope it doesn't come to that. I will if I have to though.

"You're afraid of me? I'm not going to hurt you," he continues.

Not physically, no.

"I know that!" I snap. "Just let me go."

"In a minute," he says. "I don't want to let go yet."

"Okay, Jesse. You're right. I am afraid. Now, please let me go," I nearly cry.

"Tell me why you're afraid," he requests calmly.

"I can't... do this."

"Do what?"

"This! This close. You're too close!"

"This isn't too close," he states, and I feel his hands momentarily tighten their grip.

"I told you. I can't do this sort of thing. Have you learned nothing from this afternoon?"

"I _did_ learn. I learned that you were hurt pretty bad, and you're having trouble getting over it." His mouth moves closer to my ear as he says. "I think you need to let it go emotionally just like moving here physically got you away from it," he says quietly, now leaned in and his breath on my cheek.

"Oh sure," I say sarcastically, trying to keep my wits about me. "Just 'let it go.' That's impossible."

"It's not," he mumbles and starts audaciously planting kisses along my cheek to my ear. "Do you still love him, Marie?" he asks quietly into my ear.

I let out a shaky breath, and he holds me tighter. I can't stop the small tremor from going through me as his warm breath caresses my throat. I feel like he's everywhere, even if all he's doing is holding me and occasionally kissing my cheek... or my ear... down my neck to my shoulder... and the tender way he does it only makes it harder to fight. I need to stop him.

"Do you?" he asks again.

Before I can answer, however, I gasp as he slowly glides his tongue along my shoulder and up the side of my neck.

"Jesse, please. I can't think," I manage to say while he heads along my cheekbone again, this time in the opposite direction... towards my mouth.

"Then don't," he says.

_I should have predicted that,_ I think just before his lips brush mine.

I expect to be passionately kissed, but he doesn't do it that way. He, instead, continues to lightly kiss my lips and all around my mouth, not really kissing the exact same place twice or with the same amount of pressure.

I know what he's doing. He wants me to kiss him back, and he acts like he could kiss me like this all night until I finally give in.

"No," I breathe out as a whisper, meaning 'no, I won't fall for your little trick.'

He pauses for a short second to look me in the eyes. I don't know what he's searching for, but apparently he's okay with whatever it was because he starts kissing me again in the same way.

"Jesse, I'm not going to kiss you," I say in an almost-whine against his lips. I wish I could believe my own declaration.

"Oh, but I'm enjoying kissing _you,_ " he responds against my lips.

I start shaking from the effort to hold back. _He doesn't care that I'm not going to kiss him back?_

He mercifully leaves my mouth, but it's only to travel down to my throat. I hear myself let out some kind of strange aggravated/sad/weary noise as my chin goes up of its own accord, giving him better access.

I notice my hands have moved up to his shoulders as they start digging into them like claws, and I let out another noise as I feel it's hopeless. I _do_ have feelings for him as well, and now I'm trapped in his spell. I vaguely wonder how many other women have fallen victim to this sweet torture as he works his way past my jaw on the way back to my lips. When he gets there, I voraciously welcome him back.

He moans into me, continuing to very gently kiss me and drive me insane. He _refuses_ to deepen the kiss. I'd again expected him to passionately kiss me, but he won't.

_What have I got to do?!_ I think as I've now completely turned from not kissing him back to begging him to kiss me more deeply. I let out a pleading cry and stick my tongue in his mouth.

This time, his response is instantaneous as he violently kisses me back. Finally, I'm getting what I need when I didn't realize I needed it in the first place. His arms hold me impossibly closer as he hungrily slants his mouth across mine for several blissful minutes. Then, one arm lets go so that he can bring his hand up to caress my face, hair, and neck. His mouth is at odds with his hand as his tongue attacks mine. His other hand reaches down and firmly grasps my behind, hauling me more against him while he leans into me.

To keep from falling backwards, I cling to his neck and shoulders. He suddenly leaves my mouth in favor of my chest, and I breathe in a quick gasp as he eagerly roams around with his tongue.

I miss his lips. I want them back. Now.

I grasp a fistful of his hair and jerk his face back to mine. He whines a little but succumbs to my wordless demand. Mon Dieu, but this man can kiss! I'm starving for something I had no idea I was missing.

He pulls my bottom lip with his teeth as his hand takes over from where his tongue left off on my breasts. I let out a cry of shock when his hand slips into my swimsuit top. After I take in another breath, his mouth fully reclaims mine.

While he kisses me, he starts rubbing against me suggestively. I feel through the thin, loose fabric of his swimsuit just how affected he is by what's happening. He's really letting me know too.

_Oh no,_ I think in a mild panic. _Has it come to_ that _?_

His hand leaves my breast, and before I even realize what he's doing, he's undone my swimsuit top.

The shock of what he did and where this is going yanks me fully back to cold, hard reality. Then his mouth claims my nipple, and he suckles me... hard.

"Ah! Jesse!" I cry out since what he does is almost painful. He has both arms wrapped around my waist, holding me steadily to his slightly-bent form.

I look around the room and try to remember why I wanted to ask him to stop a moment ago. _So he took my top off. So what?_

He leaves one for the other, his whole mouth taking possession while his hand moves up to the one he abandoned. His tongue swirls around while his lips pull at me, and pleasure like a bolt of lightning shoots straight down to my most private of areas. I hardly recognize my own voice as strange noises escape me.

Suddenly, he lifts me up and carries me to the small loveseat he has in this room.

"Wait. Jesse..."

"Why?" he asks before he prevents me from answering.

I am half lying on this couch and half pulled up to him while he crouches over me. His mouth never leaves me as his tongue teases mine, playing chase and making me forget everything else for a while.

I get a little confused when he stops kissing me for a moment to gently pull out the band holding my ponytail up. Released, my hair fans out, I guess framing my face. He looks down at me and smiles.

I want to cry. _What am I doing?! He's getting exactly what he wants only to hurt me later!_

"You're so beautiful, Marie," he says quietly to me on his way back to my lips. Then it's back to more of his amazing kissing ability.

_Maybe... maybe I can... maybe I can just kiss him some more before I have to push him away. I don't have to stop him_ now _..._ My thoughts chase one another in my head.

_Cocktease,_ I hear Cristina's voice taunt before her irritating giggle comes next.

Jesse's large hands roam over me almost lazily as he continues to make it harder for me to think. He is too good at pretending he really cares for me.

I met him five days ago. Five days. Five, and I've caved.

His hand moves to between my thighs.

"Oh!" I cry out when I jerk free from his kiss. _It must stop here. Oh shit but that feels good! No. No no._

I look over at him and see his eyes watch my internal struggle.

"Jesse. No. Stop. Please," I gasp out. He pauses, but he doesn't move his hand away. I scoot away and fold my arms to cover myself.

He looks crestfallen as he asks, "Why?" He moves to follow me while his arm reaches out to grasp my waist. I kick it away and curl up into a ball. "Marie?" he asks, and I randomly wonder how many times he's called a woman by the wrong name.

He moves to sit next to me on the couch. "You didn't like that? What did I do?" He scoots closer, and I ball myself up tighter. His expression tells me he earnestly wants to know what he did wrong. "What's wrong?"

"How many times must I tell you I'm not ready for any sort of romantic relationship?" I snap.

He sits back suddenly while his head jerks back a little like he's just nearly been toppled over by a huge wave. He runs his hand down his face like he's dumbfoundedly angry before he visibly calms down.

"Why do you keep saying that when it's obviously not true?" he counters.

"No. You tricked me."

"Tricked you?" he laughs out the question. "Give yourself a little more credit, Marie. I _tricked_ you?"

"You know what I mean!"

"No, not exactly. Enlighten me."

"I've told you since the first day that I'm not ready for any of that! Then, you have to go and kiss me!'

"And both times, if this counts as one time, you kissed me back. Quite demandingly a minute ago if I recall."

I kick him, or, at least, I should've kicked him, but he shoots his hand out and catches my ankle.

Good reflexes.

"Let go!"

"Are you gonna try to kick me again?"

"Are you going to be an ass again?"

"Pointing out the truth is not being an ass," he snarls before placing my foot back in front of me. "Back to my earlier point... you wanted it."

"Only because you made me want it."

"Much as I'd love for that to be true, I can't make you if you really don't want to."

"Alright, but you took the tiny bit that might have wanted it and... and... "

"Fanned the flame?" he finishes for me, his eyebrow raised in a cocky manner.

I let out an enraged growl and dart for the bag with my clothes in it. He makes no move to stop me. Facing away from him, I pull my shirt over my head before I turn around and snatch my swimsuit top from where he threw it on the floor.

Suddenly, his arms are around me again as he begs, "Don't leave."

I force his arms away angrily and quickly have to work to keep it from happening again.

"Do you want me to hurt you?" I threaten.

"If you leave, you will."

"Don't bullshit me," I snap.

"I'm not bullshitting you!"

"Yes you are!" I yell and elbow him in the ribs. Hard.

He lets out a gasp as all the air in his lungs gets expelled, and he's forced to instantly let go of me and clutch his stomach. I reach down and pick up my dropped bag.

He gasps out, "Please. I'm... sorry for whatever I did. Or, ...didn't do."

I stand in front of the door and worry that I might have really hurt him. "Are you okay? I didn't break a rib, did I?"

His breathing becomes more regular as he responds, "Oh, _now_ you're worried about whether or not you hurt me?"

_Smart-ass._ "You wouldn't let go. I warned you."

He winces and leans back against the wall while sitting on the floor at my feet. "No, you didn't break a rib." His eyes narrow as he peers up at me before he asks, "How is it that someone as little as you can even do that?"

I barely suppress a laugh at the 'little' comment. "You have poor balance."

"What's that even got to do with anything?"

"It has a lot to do with everything if you want to know how someone as 'little as me' can even do that," I reply in a snide voice. I am not little. I have never _been_ little... not even as a kid. Martial arts was a way to prevent me from getting overweight.

"Well, maybe I'd understand that better if you would just _teach_ me," he lightly snaps back, bringing up our earlier argument. "I even called the gym, and they said they had the right equipment."

This news surprises me a little. I'd hoped that I could use the 'I don't have any equipment' (not that it really matters anyway) argument in my favor. I wish he'd give this whole idea up.

"Fine!" I finally snap. "When is your next day off?" I _want_ to kick his ass now.

"Monday."

"Alright. Gym. Monday, six am sharp. You'll need the rest of the day to recover."

"You're making me get up that early on my day off?" he asks in a pained voice.

"If you want me to teach you, yes."

"Is the gym even open that early?"

"Yes. I've been there that early once already. I'll have to ask the lady at the desk where this imaginary equipment is since I've never seen it before." I liked getting to the gym that early last Saturday. There was almost no one there - probably because of the very laid-back attitude of this island.

I reach down and grab my bag again, preparing to leave.

"Marie, please don't leave!" he groans out as he gets up off the floor as fast as his aching rib will let him.

"Why should I stay?" I ask, eyebrows raised and wondering how he'll answer my question.

"Because I threw this party for _you_!" he answers almost defensively. "Don't leave this soon."

"This isn't soon, and when would not be too soon?!" Anger fills me and drives me to my next question. "When you're done with me?"

Again, he looks like I just slapped him. He breathes faster for a minute before he asks, "'Done' with you? What the hell! What do you take me for, Marie?"

"I take you for a man that goes through women faster than my new boss used to." I glare at him as I repeat the old waitress's words.

"What?! Why the hell would you get that idea?"

"Let's just say I have what I would call a reliable source."

"Who?" When I don't answer immediately, he begs, "Marie, please at least tell me who my accuser is."

"Fine. The waitress that used to have my job," I snap, angry I had to reveal my source. Still, on some very tiny level, I want him to discredit her. I don't dwell on this feeling, however, because I don't want it to make me give in to Jesse again.

"Bernadette?" he gasps out. "Wait... that Friday night party when we were both dressed up?" I nod, and he continues, "Before or after she asked me out?"

My jaw drops. I had forgotten the flowers. He's implying that she told me all that to be sure I'd refuse him. I'd been so eager to believe her trash talk since I'd been irritated with him that night.

He stands in front of me, watching my face, before his eyes rest on my lips after I force myself to snap my jaw closed. He looks at me like he wants to kiss me again.

I take an unconscious half-step back before I say, "Well, I can't help but feel her statement has the ring of truth."

"So, you think I'm some kind of player," he states his question.

"Yes," I finally admit.

"Are you going to let me defend myself, or have you made up your mind no matter what I say?" he asks, surprising me with his question. His voice is steady and his expression curious.

"Defend yourself?"

"Yes. I admit, there were numerous times I played around, but I always made sure they knew."

"Like you're doing me."

He sighs like he has the patience of a saint, which I know he doesn't. "No. If I were only playing you, I'd've given up days ago. I certainly wouldn't be putting forth an idea that would mean I'd see you over and over again like I would if you were my martial arts instructor."

"Which is something that you could cancel on a whim," I snap. "Or just stop showing up."

Not letting what I said affect him, he continues with his statement, "Then there were times when I _wasn't_ playing. I was serious. I thought they were too."

As he speaks, his presence looms closer and closer in a very gradual way. I become aware of this only when he's right on top of me. I take a step back.

"You're not the only one with a broken heart, Marie," he says, his voice a little lower now. His hand reaches up and grasps my chin to make me look up at him.

He's seconds from kissing me again, and I can't let that happen! I jerk my chin out of his grasp and glare at him as I say, "Oh no you don't!"

His calm demeanor vanishes as he harshly asks, "What have I got to do to get you to understand? To believe me?"

"Wait!" I yell quietly with my jaw clenched.

"So much time that could be better spent I think," he says, grabs me, and crushes his lips on mine.

Shocked surprise keeps me from responding for a few, long seconds. His thumb presses down on my chin, forcing my mouth open. His tongue quickly regains its lost territory. I let out a muffled, shocked cry and, like an idiot, try to push him off me.

Instantly, his posture changes into something much less forceful, but he still won't get off me.

Just when I think I'm going to have to hurt him (knowing his rib is a definite weak point), he pulls back and speaks down to me.

"They all left, Marie. Most of them thought I was funny for falling in love with them so quickly. It was always the same. You think I'd learn, but no. I keep trying anyway. I have to. I never know if I could miss an opportunity." His voice sounds pained, and the sorrow in it tears at my heart.

"An opportunity for what?" I ask, trying not to snap at the more tender feelings I have.

"Well, if for no other way to put it, finding 'the one.'"

I feel a very defensive anger well up inside me. I can't let what he said touch my heart. "Let go of me! I'm tired of the lines. I'm going home!"

"Fine!" he yells. "Be like all the others! Maybe I should be like you and just stop trying!"

Now I'm pissed off. He still hasn't let go of me, so I quickly ram the heel of my foot down on his instep, punch his hurt rib, and when he leans over to hold his stomach, I knee him in the groin. While he cries out in pain, I grab my bag, walk out of the room, leave his house, and drive myself home on Erin's scooter.

When I walk inside my house, I see my phone has a text.

But I can't stop trying

I don't know how to answer him, so I turn my phone off. I pull my clothes out of the bag from Jesse's house to put them away.

Wait a minute... Where are my panties?

# Chapter 3: Serious Discussion

### Erin

The night after Jesse's party, Bryce and I stand on my front porch.

He looks pained.

"Are you sure?" he asks me again.

I've decided that since Sean is gone that I'm going to go back to living in my house. Bryce looked crestfallen when I told him this earlier today. He'd thought I could at least stay the week like we'd planned, but I need a little space between us for at least a night.

"Bryce, I'll be fine. You'll be fine," I say quietly.

"When can I see you again?" he asks like he would at the end of a first date.

I shrug like it's no big deal. "Tomorrow, I guess."

He takes a deep breath. "What time?"

"You can come over right after Adele gets on the bus again like you've done before," I offer. Then he pulls me into his arms like he wants to somehow physically attach us together permanently.

"I'm glad now that I work late hours. At least I'll be distracted while at work and exhausted when I get home." He mumbles now, "I used to be quite good at that routine."

I bury my head in the little space between his neck and shoulder and sigh. _This has been so intense that he's going to have trouble slowing down._

"Bryce, ..."

"I know," he says, quickly stopping my chastisement before I can say it. Then we simply stand here holding each other.

I have a sudden desire to reach my hand down and run my fingertips across his stomach. He's wearing another of those thin t-shirts of his, and I want to eat him alive. To try to make myself feel better, I turn a little so that I'm pressed more fully against him. He takes a deep breath and squeezes me tighter. Our breathing alters, and he rolls his head around to get my face to turn up before he lovingly kisses me in one of his 'Bryce kisses,' quickly spiraling out of control.

He tries to talk while kissing me. "You feel... so good... like this."

A hand reaches down to grab my butt and pull me closer to him so that I can really tell how the moment affects him.

Some small amount of sanity escapes me so I can say, "You have to... go to work."

"I'll be late," he says, grabbing my keys from my hand.

Before I know what's happening, I find myself up on the kitchen counter. He's already yanked my panties down before placing me up here, and he works himself just enough out of his shorts before swiftly pulling me towards him and driving himself into me.

_Shirt. Off. Now._ I think before he can really begin, and I proceed to remove the shirt. He happily assists me, and at last, I get to run my hands over his beautiful abs.

Well, for just a moment, because he pulls me tight up on him, hugging me to him as he starts up a steady rhythm. Soon, I'm only half on the counter while he bounces me. I tightly wrap my arms around his neck to find some stability. Then, as the mounting pleasure builds, I also cling to him out of desperation. All I'm really able to do is hold on while he handles everything else.

"Oh," he gasps. "Baby. C'mon, Erin."

I let out a cry. _How does he do that by just talking?_

He whispers to me, "Come for me, Erin."

Like magic, I do as he asks, throwing my head back as another cry escapes me. He stops for a solitary second before suddenly yelling and pressing my hips harder into him. I come again from the force of his orgasm. That, or that was one hell of an aftershock.

His phone rings. He ignores it.

"It's bound to be Jones," I gasp out.

"Probably," he agrees, trying to catch his breath. With a groan, he pulls out of me and helps me to stand on my feet. His tongue escapes his mouth before reaching mine, and I have mine open to accept it.

"I don't want to go to work. I want to stay here and do wickedly naughty things to you," he says once we've stopped kissing.

I can't stop my shudder from what he said, and my voice sounds breathless when I reply, "But you're the boss. You have to go to work."

He rights his shorts and tells me he hates it when I'm right about stuff like this. I laugh a little.

"Tomorrow then." He smiles mischievously at me before running a single finger down the side of my face, kissing the tip of my nose, and turning to leave with his shirt in his hand.

He stops when he gets to the door, turns and says, "Oh, before I go..." He bounds over to me in one and a half steps. "I love you." Then he quickly kisses my mouth, smiles, and dashes out the door before I can respond.

I laugh a little at the inside of my front door. Then I walk over and flop down on my recently-purchased, small sofa, my mood instantly changing. _Bryce,_ I think with a groan, _how often am I gonna have to tell you to slow down?_

I start crying.

What is wrong with me? Why am I crying?! I should be happy! Sean is gone! Gone! I never have to see him again.

I actually cry harder at this thought. _I will never see him again._

I need to figure myself out, and fast. I'm crying over losing Sean again.

My subconscious refused to let me think about this around Bryce for fear of hurting him with this display.

Sean, why did you have to do that? Why? I loved you with everything I had, and you... you slept with my best friend of all people! Why?!

And now I'll never know why... because he's gone.

I'm glad he's gone.

I miss him.

No! I love Bryce. My sweet, secretly-sensitive Bryce that loves me and wants me with him all the time.

I never got to have a serious discussion with Sean. Of course, he never would want a serious discussion unless it occurred after sex, and then I'd have to be fast.

I need a serious discussion with him though.

But he's gone.

I look at my laptop sitting on my desk, and an idea occurs to me.

I'll send him an email.

I sit down and open my email up. I haven't opened it in ages because I got aggravated at Bill for spamming me. It's filled with warnings about Sean coming to the island.

I need to call my brother and tell him I'm okay.

I shoot him a quick email telling him everything is fine, Sean is on his way home, or there, without me. I only just hint at the fact that I have another boyfriend already. I don't wanna hit him with too much at once. Then, I write up an email to Sean:

Sean,

I'm sorry about everything that's happened. I'm sorry I don't want anything to do with you anymore.

May I ask you one question and get an honest, no-holds-barred answer?

Why? Why did you do it?

Don't say you don't know because I think you do. I need to know because what you did to me still hurts.

Erin

I hit send. Then, I decide to write in my diary. I haven't done that in ages either.

Dear Diary,

I decided to stick with Bryce, and I haven't regretted my decision. He really is that wonderful person he was on our first day... the day that Jesse visited me here and kissed me. Jesse and I have become good friends, surprisingly. He's really sweet and funny when he's not trying to hit on me. (He hasn't since then.) He and Bryce made up in their strange way that I won't get into, and now he's wanting to date someone named Marie.

Marie is the same Marie that Cristina grew up with and claimed she bullied her. I'd always wondered if perhaps Cris was exaggerating. She can be so overly-dramatic at times, and now that I've heard Marie's side of the story, I think what Cristina did to her is cruel. The worst is that Daniel over whom they fought. Marie would do better with Jesse. I think he could easily fall in love with her if he hasn't already.

My email pings at me. It's Sean. ?!?!

Darling Erin,

Why are you the one apologizing? It's me that's to blame in all of this. Don't start up apologizing to me, please. You have every reason and more to hate me for ever.

I've explained this to you numerous times. However, you know me and this thing with Meredith didn't just accidentally happen in a random, passionate moment. I'm sorry I ever thought to convince you of that. I wanted to explain this to you while I was there, but you and your new friends prevented me.

I did it on purpose. And I'm sorry.

I know sorry doesn't make up for what I did. No, my punishment is losing you, something I may never get over. (sorry for ending in a preposition, baby.)

Really, why do people do what they do? I had some immature need to have one last fling before we got married, and I ruined my life having it.

Please don't apologize to me. I deserved worse than what you threw at me. (I glued back together my mother's vase.)

I hope that man treats you good, because if he doesn't then I just might have to bring a few of my friends to take care of him.

I will always love you, Erin.

Sean

I start crying again. That was the Sean I fell in love with.

He even apologized for ending in a preposition.

My IM dings.

Sean: Are you there?

_Oh shit. It's Sean,_ I think and wipe my eyes.

The little dot next to my name indicates that I _am_ online. Curse me for not turning it off!

Erin: Yes.

Sean: Did you read it?

Erin: Yes.

My computer stays silent for a few minutes before he says something again.

Sean: I was a complete asshole, and I'm infinitely sorry. I wish there was a better word than sorry.

Erin: I know. Thank you for telling me the truth. Did you make it home okay?

I throw in the question just to be polite.

Sean: I will never be okay. Because I miss you so bad it hurts.

I feel like I was just stabbed.

Sean: Maybe we're better off apart, but I wish we could've worked things out.

No.

Erin: We can never work things out because I would never be able to trust you again.

Sean: I know.

Sean: So, what am I interrupting? What were you doing?

Erin: I was just writing in my diary.

I don't want to discuss my day with him, so I kept my answer simple.

Sean: Boyfriend not there?

Erin: That's none of your business.

I'm not going to tell you I'm sitting here alone.

Sean: Okay. I was just wondering. It's not like I can hop over there anyway.

Sean: I couldn't imagine that if he's there that he's left you alone long enough to email, write in your diary (which you only do when you're alone ;) ), and chat with me for a minute.

Son of a...

Erin: He doesn't hover over me constantly.

I feel like I'm getting defensive.

Sean: I didn't mean that he did. But now that you mention it, I did notice how he never let you out of his sight for long. Bit overboard imho.

Erin: Not overboard. Protective. You scared the shit out of me, so I needed him to be that way.

Sean: Yet another reason for you to hate me.

Erin: I don't *hate* you. I just don't want you in my life anymore.

Sean: And I'm sorry for that. Deeply, agonizingly sorry.

Sean: I am still your brother's friend.

Erin: With friends like you...

Don't point out to me ways I might see you again someday!

Sean: I told him where you are.

Erin: Doesn't matter anymore because you were the one from whom I wanted to hide.

Sean: You mean hide from?

I let out a high-pitched growl.

Sean: C'mon, baby doll, it doesn't kill you if you end a sentence in a preposition. It's even allowed.

Erin: I'm not having this discussion with you. You know why I can't stand that. I'm done with this conversation. Thank you for explaining things to me.

I almost shut off my computer, but I have to say one more thing.

Erin: Also, I'm not your baby doll.

I turn off my computer before he can have a chance to make a comeback.

_I am so angry!_ I think as I get up and walk around in my small living room.

Deciding that I can't stand the enclosed space, I walk outside to my backyard and stare out over the lagoon.

_Yes, Sean, you_ were _immature and conceited, and arrogant, and a world-class jerk!_

And you said sorry. There should be a better word.

Damn you! I loved you! You went out and hurt me on purpose so you could have 'one more fling.' Well, anyone who wants 'one more fling' shouldn't get married at all because that means he/she isn't ready!

I'm glad, now, that I walked in on them. Finding him like that, with her, kept me from saddling myself with an asshole.

_And eventually brought me here... to Bryce... someone who's been hurt badly... and never dealt with it. I need to deal with this_ now _._

I try, but I can't think about myself anymore. My heart swells when I picture Bryce in my mind, and I feel more worried about him than I do myself.

I'm not in the same place you are, Bryce. I'm in a better one.

I will never be married to Sean, and I'm happy about that.

I'm happy!

I look up at the night sky and hug myself, almost laughing with relief. I feel like ten tons have been forever lifted off my shoulders.

I do laugh now as I twirl in a circle, a few happy tears escaping my eyes.

I'm completely in love with Bryce! I have this overpowering want to see him, but Marie still has my scooter. His bar is on the other side of the lagoon.

Maybe I could swim...

Nah, that's too crazy. I'll just call him and hear his voice.

I dial his number.

"Hey, beautiful. What's up?"

"I love you," I say simply, a few more tears escaping.

"Couldn't let me have the last word, huh?" I hear the laughter in his voice.

"No, I _really_ love you," I say emphatically, praying the emotion in my voice reaches him over his phone in the loud bar.

He stays quiet for a few seconds before his voice sounds a little choked up when he finally says, "I believe you." The background noise has lessened dramatically. "Do you have... any idea how hard it is for me to stay put at work right now?"

"Yes. I wish I had my scooter."

"I love you too," he says. His voice sounds quiet, and I can picture him standing in the extra seating area, trying not to break down in public.

"I needed some time to think, I guess." I choose to not mar this wonderful moment by talking about Sean. He can hear about that later.

"Still tomorrow, or will you spend the night? It's killing me to not have you right here with me."

"I still need a little 'alone time,' but maybe tomorrow night," I answer, and he stays quiet. "Bryce, don't be upset."

"Upset? Me?" Then I hear a sad smile in his voice as he says, "I suppose I can wait and see you in the morning."

"It's not that far away."

"Get some sleep, my beautiful Erin, because you're going to need it."

_Huh?!_ After I catch my breath, I ask, "Is that a threat?"

"No. Not really. It's friendly advice to keep you from being entirely worn out for tomorrow night from what I want to do to you tomorrow _morning_."

I can't stop the small whimper from escaping as I think about all he could possibly mean, and I pray he didn't hear it.

"That's right, baby," he says knowingly.

Holy shit!

"How am I supposed to sleep now?" I almost whisper.

"Hm, well, you could come over tonight so I could wear you out, but you'd have to be quiet. If that happens, I _might_ go easy on you in the morning."

My voice sounds extra-shaky as I reply, "Bryce, I need to be by myself tonight. I need to let eradicating Sean from everything soak in and get complete closure."

"Alright, baby," he says more gently. "That's incredibly important to me too. Don't worry about me tonight; just get some good sleep."

"Okay," I breathe, not able to say much more.

I hear his smile as he says, "Goodnight, Erin. I love you."

"I love you too, Bryce," I say, and we hang up.

I stumble off to my bed for a few hours of sleep, ready to start everything afresh tomorrow.

# Chapter 4: Ton of Bricks

### Marie

_Jesse,_ I think as his tongue enters my mouth again. _How did you learn to kiss like this?_

He pulls me closer to him, and I feel the warm water swirl around me from the hot tub. I squirm a little from the erotic sensation of the hair on his stomach brushing up against my wet, exposed skin.

Hands that previously rested on my hips move around my waist so he can hold me firmly to him. I marvel at how warm his skin is, even compared to the water. Curious, my hands begin testing to see if he is indeed warm everywhere and not just where his skin touches mine. He lets out a low groan as I eagerly explore his muscular form. Everywhere I touch, the muscles contract in response to the welcome contact.

I feel him slowly untie the bikini strap around my neck, the action very deliberate. I wonder if he unties it slowly so that there's no shock once the top is removed. He wants me to know he wants me naked in his arms. I shudder at the knowledge that I want it off too, and the sooner the better. I wiggle a little to hopefully convey my desire. Finally, he tosses the article of clothing aside, and his hands glide up and down my wet skin like they're devouring every place they touch.

He lifts his head so he can say one word, "Stay." As his mouth picks up where it left off, he gently separates my knees and moves his body between them. His hands press on my behind, pulling me close against him so that I can feel his poorly-constrained erection through the loose fabric of his suit pushing between my thighs. Then with his hands maintaining their firm grip, he grinds me against him while his hips work in tandem to make me feel pleasure so intense that I wish I could scream.

He wants me, and I want him right back.

I realize his mouth has left mine when I throw my head back to the night sky. He languidly runs his lips down my neck as a small, desperate cry escapes me. He moans in response, and I feel the sound of it on my skin as it reverberates through his chest.

His hands and hips pick up their tempo to the brink of insanity. The speed of his breathing matches mine as intense pleasure pools between my thighs. I cry out again when it becomes unbearable. _Why am I finding no relief?_ I wonder frantically. A keening whine slips out between my teeth as my body shakes from unsatisfied need. Jesse adds more pressure while I dig my nails into the flesh of his shoulders.

"Marie," he moans, and his voice saying my name brings me over the edge of ecstasy.

My hands reach out to my sides and grab fistfuls of my bedsheets as my empty orgasm rocks me awake. I move a hand to try to bring more satisfaction, but the crucial moment has passed, leaving me more wanting than satisfied.

Still panting somewhat, I look over at my alarm clock. It's three-thirty in the morning, two and a half hours until Jesse's first taekwondo lesson.

I get up and take a shower, unable to get back to sleep.

_What on earth was that dream about? Well, other than the obvious. What does it mean?_ I think as I realize how nervous I'm going to be when I see him in a few hours. _Will he somehow know I dreamed about him?_

_And for that matter, how can I even look him in the face after what happened in his office after the party... that he said he threw for me._ My mind immediately starts running in circles with the now-familiar thoughts of everything Jesse revealed to me last Wednesday night.

I haven't spoken to or seen him since then. I never responded to his text. I almost feel abandoned until I tell myself that he's probably doing it to give me a little space. I can't help but worry he's given up on me.

I bite my lip to keep myself from crying again with this thought. I've already done that once already, and I don't want to go down that heartbreaking path again.

I get dressed in the garb that my brother Xavier insisted I bring with me to the island. I suppose I'll have to figure out how to get Jesse some proper attire if he turns out to be serious about wanting to learn. I remember how my dad looked in some of his, and I can't help but think that Jesse would look incredibly hot in that.

I make my way over to the gym. It's supposed to open at five, and I'm here when they unlock the door. The lady that works the desk smiles at me, and I head out next to the pool where they'd set up the equipment especially for me. The training dummy they have needs some oil on the wood, but other than that, it's in good shape.

I sit down and meditate until he gets here, hoping that will calm my nerves.

.........

I hear people start to slowly trickle in, and I realize I have no idea how much time has gone by. Sometimes, I would set alarms for myself because I'd get too into my meditation and lose all track of time, but this is the first time this has happened since I moved here.

I look at the position of the sun to gauge the time. _Surely it's not that far past six_ _already? Is it?_ I ask someone walking by for the time, and they tell me it's eight. I thank them for telling me.

_He's not coming. He stood me up. Not that this is a date or anything, but he_ knew _this was the time._

He's mad at me. That can be the only explanation.

He did complain about it being early for him. What if his alarm didn't go off or something?

Two hours, Marie? He stood you up. He's not serious about you. Congratulations, you fell for it.

I let out a painful huff of air and walk over to beat the crap out of this training dummy.

### Jesse

It's been almost a week since my party. I haven't spoken to her since.

I sent her a text, and she never responded. _Fine, Marie, I get it,_ I think as I pop open a beer before sitting on the couch in my living room.

I've gone back and forth from wanting to contact her again in some way to cursing her very existence all week. Bryce called me Friday to ask if I was okay, and I told him 'yeah' when he knew I was lying through my teeth.

I am not okay. I am wanting to get shitfaced drunk.

_She's working tonight, I'll bet. Not that I really want to see her,_ I lie to myself. _I just want to go get a drink._

I put my beer down on the coffee table and get up to get my keys. If I'm going anywhere, I'd better go now since I've literally had only one swallow.

I get to Bryce's bar and find it closed. _He closes on Tuesdays now?_

I guess with only three people working... hm.

This means she's not here. Is she at home?

Stop. She doesn't want to see you.

I get back in my car and drive home. When I get there, I pick up the beer I left on the coffee table.

After an unknown amount of time goes by, I get a brilliant idea. I put my latest beer bottle on the coffee table with its brethren and get out my phone.

I wonder what Miss Legs is doing right now...

Hey. Where are you?

I laugh a little after I hit send. _I just texted Marie._ It's hilarious!

My phone stays quiet. And stays quiet. It's silent.

Bitch. I'm trying to be funny here.

I dial her number.

"Hello, Jesse."

"Hey! Your phone _is_ on! That's good."

"Why do you want to know where I am?"

"Just wondering," I answer vaguely. "I'm trying to picture you in my head, and I wanted to know what background to put you in front of." _Awesome._

"Are you drunk?" she asks suspiciously.

"Nope. Not yet. I... think." I let out a little laugh.

We're quiet for a few seconds.

"Hey," I say. Then my words come out slowly, "You never texted me back."

"No, I didn't know what to say."

"I forgot what I said," I say, trying to remember. It's more important to me that I _did_ it and she never returned. "Do you remember?"

_"_ Jesse..."

"What?"

"I'm not talking about any of this while you're drunk."

"Well, you weren't talking about this when I _wasn't_ drunk, so there."

She sighs loudly.

"You walked out."

"You attacked me."

I'm shocked. "I did not. I kissed you. There's a difference, and do I need to teach you what the difference is?"

"I didn't want you to do that."

I get really sad all of a sudden. "Why does everyone leave?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Jennifer left. So did Brittany. And... Bubbles."

"Bubbles?"

" 's'not her real name."

"I would hope not."

"And now... you."

"I didn't leave, Jesse," she states patiently.

"Mhm, yes you did. Right after I told you everyone leaves."

"I mean I didn't leave the island. I'm trying to understand what you're talking about."

"Humph. And then you didn't text me back."

"I told you I didn't know what to say."

"I texted that I can't give up. Didn't I?"

"Something like that, yes."

"And you didn't text me back."

"Jesse... "

"Does that mean you want me to give up?"

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a shaky way.

"Are you crying, Marie? No, baby, don't cry," I say in what I hope is a soothing voice. "I'm going to walk to your house."

"No, Jesse," she says in a whine. She sounds like she might be crying, and it rips my heart in two.

I get up, take two steps, and the ground tilts itself at a strange angle. I almost fall flat on my face. My hands are a little slow in catching me, but I manage okay. Miraculously, I never let go of the phone. "Then again... Maybe not."

"Did you just fall?"

"Yep. I guess I'm staying at home," I say as I roll over onto my back. "I miss you, Marie. Will you come over?"

"That's not a good idea."

" 'Course it is because I'm too drunk to walk even... and I miss you."

"Jesse, no, it's not a good idea."

"It's a wonderful idea." I pause as a thought occurs to me. "I'm falling in love with you, Marie," I admit. The other end of the line stays quiet for about five seconds.

Her voice gets shrill. "How can you say that to me?! You don't _know_ me!"

"I want to know you better," I say with the knowledge that I love her filling me completely. "I love your eyes. I told you that, right? And you have fantastic legs. And hair. ...Why did you stop me?"

"You're drunk."

"Yeah. I think you're right."

"You need to sleep this off."

"Will you come over and help me? I need you, Marie."

"Well, now _that's_ an honest statement for once," __ she snaps, and I'm confused.

"It is."

"Goodnight, Jesse."

"Huh? No!" The call ends. _What did I say?_

I call her again. It goes to voicemail. So, I call again. Same thing. So, I call again. Voicemail. So, I call again.

"What?!" she snaps.

"Why did you hang up?"

"Because you're drunk, and I don't want to listen to your lines."

"I'm not using lines. Because I love you? That's not a line."

"You don't love me, Jesse. You're drunk."

"I don't love you cuz I'm drunk?"

"You're only saying it because you are. No, I'm not responding to your booty call."

I laugh a little because, with her accent, 'booty' sounds really funny coming from her. "That is what this looks like, huh?"

"Yes."

A moment of clarity hits me. "I'm only saying it cuz I'm drunk, but that doesn't make it untrue... or that does make it true, or... doesn't make it true?" So much for my moment of clarity. "I don't know, but I know I love you, so there!"

"What's my favorite color, Jesse?"

"Green," I guess.

She's quiet for a second or two before she asks, "And my favorite sport?"

"Soccer... or football whatever."

"How do you know this?"

"Because at the bar you watch the TV the most when it's on. This is fun! Ask me another question." I grin.

"How many women have you slept with?"

The question hits me like a ton of bricks. I try to count them up in my fogged brain.

"I don't know."

"That's what I thought. Goodnight, Jesse." She hangs up.

I stare up at my ceiling for a few minutes. Then, I call her again. Voicemail. I call again. Voicemail. I leave a message. "Why did you ask me that? That's not fair." I hang up and stare at my ceiling some more.

The blaring sun streaks across my face as I try to close my eyes tight enough to block it out. It doesn't work, so I roll over.

I hear my phone make a shrill noise, indicating I have a message. I don't remember hearing it ring. I press a button just to make it shut the hell up, and I go back to sleep.

I'm uncomfortable.

I lift my head and find myself on my living room floor.

Then the memories from last night hit hard... the ones I can remember, that is. I know I texted and then called Marie, but I can't remember the details of what we talked about. I do remember that she said she wouldn't come over because I was drunk. She hung up on me.

I find my phone on the floor, and I pull it towards me and unlock it to see what time it is. Two in the afternoon. Wednesday. I have a message.

I go into my voicemail to listen with a confused expression. I don't remember turning off the message notification.

It's Marie.

_"I hope that you're not drunk when you listen to this. You wanted to know why I asked you that, and it's because I will not be just another notch in your bedpost, another conquest, another in a long line. You say you're not playing me, that that's one of the reasons you want to take martial arts lessons so that you can see me regularly. Then, you don't show up for your first lesson. How can you say what you said and expect me to take you seriously? How can you do this to me when I've_ told _you what I'm going through?"_ For a moment, she sounds like she's having trouble composing herself before she continues, _"Please don't feed me bullshit, Jesse. Go find another victim because I can't handle it."_

I push the button to save the message, a confused scowl covering my brow. _What did she ask me that I wanted to know why? Another 'notch on my bedpost'? 'Conquest'?_

_"How many women have you slept with?"_ I hear in my hazy memory.

Fuck. She still thinks I'm playing her!

If I just go and tell her I'm not, she won't believe me. I know she won't. That's what that tone in the message tells me. I'm not 'feeding her bullshit'!

I gasp as a memory hits me. _I told her I love her... and she didn't believe me._

_Well, I don't fucking blame her if the first time I tell her is when I'm drunk off my ass... literally. I don't think I can mess this up any worse. 'Victim.'_ A small 'huh' noise escapes me as I let out all the air in my lungs.

_Shit! She showed up for the lesson after all._ I'd assumed that since she stormed out that she'd cancelled the lesson on Monday. _Oh shit! She said on Wednesday night that if I was playing her then I could just 'not show up' for the lesson when I'd tried to use setting those future meetings as proof that I_ wasn't _playing her._

I let out a pathetic whine and put my fists on my pounding forehead. _I'm an asshole._

I should call her and explain.

_No. I'm finding her and doing this in person. This island isn't_ that _big. I_ will _find her._

# Chapter 5: Puppy Love

### Belinda

"Yes, she's free. I'll lead you back," I hear Lynne say to a customer.

"I'm right here," I tell her just before she nearly runs into me. I see Julian Strong walking behind her. She tells me he's here for a massage, and I lead him back.

After he gets changed into a towel, I can see the healing bruises on him, and it just breaks my heart.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask as I look at the physical evidence of what Erin's ex did to him. "I feel concerned I might hurt you with those bruises."

"I've had worse," he says like they're no big deal. "Besides, I'm not looking for anything deep tissue or something like that. I have this spot," he says and tries to show me only to wind up turning around in a circle like a puppy chasing its tail. "Well, it's there somewhere, that bugs the hell out of me. I must have a pinched nerve or something." He gives me a 'please don't think I'm nuts' look.

I smile a little to reassure him. Then I gesture to the table and say, "Let's see if I can fix it."

I get to working, gently, on his back, and I quickly find the pinched spot. He has quite a knot, and I recommend he go to a chiropractor. He complains that he'd just wind up getting addicted to getting adjustments and he'd never be the same.

"You could say the same about my job," I chuckle.

"Well, if I'm going to choose one, this is the better choice," he mumbles before he's quiet again. I just shake my head and smile, knowing I can't convince him any more if he doesn't want to go see one.

I find another spot, like the first one's other half, and work that one. He lets out a groan that says he really appreciates me finding that.

"Belinda, you really do have the most wonderful hands," he mumbles into the table. Then he's quiet for a long time while I work his back and legs. I start to wonder if he's fallen asleep. That's not an uncommon occurrence.

"Mr. Strong?" I ask quietly, hating to wake him up but needing him to wake up all the same. I have to lightly shake his shoulders to get him to wake up.

"Hm?" he asks in a bleary voice and opens one eye. "Oh." He pushes up on his elbows. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was."

I again smile reassuringly while he sits up and scoots off the table. When he does, I see he's popped a tent under his towel. Again, this isn't terribly uncommon.

"Oh dear God, I'm so sorry," he says like he's really embarrassed.

"It's fine," I say, trying to get him to stop feeling embarrassed.

"It's not. I'll just go."

"Mr. Strong -"

He interrupts me. "Thank you for working out that kink, but I really need to leave now." With that, he heads towards the showers, his hands covering himself.

I sigh a little and start working on cleaning up the table.

Later, Lynne comes up to me. "What happened with Julian? He all but flew out of here."

I shrug and say, "He enjoyed it more than he expected." I know she knows what I mean.

"Oh," she responds and smiles a small, knowing smile. "You and your magic hands."

"I prefer skilled. You're the one with the magic," I tease.

She sighs, obviously thinking of something not-so-funny. "Yes," she agrees.

### Jesse

She's not at the bar. Bryce isn't sure where she is, and he looked like he was curious, even though he'd never ask me unless I volunteered the info or look like I'm waiting to be asked, what was going on.

I go and knock on her door. There's no answer. I actually peek into the window, and I don't see any lights on.

Where is she?

I try the gym. She's not there either.

I drive around aimlessly after that, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. There are way too damn many blonde tourists about her height and build. Normally, I'd revel in this fact but not today.

I park Martha at a public beach parking lot.

When I get out of the car, I go ahead and take my shirt off since I'm headed to the beach anyway. I remember Marie once saying she wanted to work on her tan, so I decide to start here and work my way around the island to her apartment building, cursing myself for not checking the beach behind her building first.

I get stopped a few times by some really cute chicks, but I have to politely refuse their offer to party. I'm a man on a mission.

I'm insane. That brunette needed to be spanked.

I sigh and shake my head to clear the crazed thoughts running through it.

I walk a little farther to a more empty space when I see a lone figure sitting cross-legged a little bit ahead of me in a slightly shaded area. Blonde. Tanned to a darker bronze.

Marie. I found her.

I tread up to her as silently as I can. She looks to be in a deep meditation, and she doesn't show any outward sign that she notices me... not even when I sit down right in front of her.

She's really out of it. Or... into it.

A smile slowly covers my face as I sit and stare at her. She looks so peaceful that she could be asleep. It occurs to me that I've never seen her like this. Most of the time, she scowls at me. Occasionally, I've made her laugh, but I've never seen her this relaxed. It's nice, and I sigh happily.

Her eyes open slowly and she, also slowly, realizes I'm sitting here staring at her. Then her eyes widen, and she scoots herself backwards as quick as lightning, kicking up a little bit of sand as she does.

A jumble of French pours out of her mouth so fast that I can't catch even an eighth of before she switches.

"What are you doing here?" she asks harshly.

"Looking for you," I answer truthfully and watching closely for her reaction. I'm a little sad my happy sigh destroyed the peaceful moment.

"How did you find me here? How long were you sitting there? What do you _want_?!"

I take a deep breath and try to answer her questions one at a time. "I found you by taking a walk because everywhere else I tried didn't pan out. I remembered you once said that you wanted to go to the beach, and it was the next guess I had. I haven't been here but a few minutes, and I _want_ to talk to you."

She starts acting like she wants to get up and leave, so I place a calming hand on her knee which she frantically bats away.

_Oops_ , I think, realizing that it probably wasn't calming like I wanted. I then very visibly withdraw my hand and put it back on my own knee. "Please don't get up and leave. I want to apologize for last night."

"I don't want to talk about last night, last Wednesday night, Friday night, Monday night or anything," she snaps.

I feel a little confused as to what she could mean by Friday and Monday since I have no idea why she would be mad at me for those, but I refrain from asking since it looks like it would just start a fight. _Monday..._

"And I want to apologize for not showing up Monday morning. I gathered from your message that you didn't cancel the lesson like I thought you did when you stormed out of my house," I say, and her lips harden into a line like she's working on hiding something. _Shit, I hurt her by that._ "I'm sorry, Marie. I mean, what was I to think? You never texted me back or anything. I thought you'd decided against it."

"You could have at least called and asked me if I'd cancelled it," she says angrily.

"And have you bite my head off or worse... ignore me again? No thank you," I tell her sharply.

She gets up and dusts the sand off her butt and legs. Then she starts walking down the beach.

"Where are you going?" I ask as I hop up to follow her.

"Home," she answers simply and keeps walking.

"Are you not going to accept my apology?"

"Fine. I accept your apology," she says exasperatedly.

"You do? You sure don't sound like you do," I say once I've caught up to her very fast walking pace.

She surprises me when she suddenly stops and rounds on me. "What do you want from me, Jesse?"

Even though I know what I want from her, the question takes me by surprise. I'm not sure what answer she wants or what she's really asking. "What do you mean?" I ask back. She's asked _me_ that frequently enough, so I feel fine asking her to clarify.

"I'm not going to sleep with you. I don't want to date anyone. You failed to show up for your taekwondo lesson. Right now, you're not even making a very good _friend_ ," she snaps before she turns and walks off again.

_Not_ ever _?!_ I think, still somewhat stuck on her first and second statement. _No, she's just saying that to get me to leave her alone._

I stop walking. "So, you want me to leave you alone," I state my question, and she stops walking also.

She stands perfectly still, looking down at the sand. "I didn't think you actually would."

_That wasn't a 'yes,'_ I think with a small amount of hope. "I tried," I tell her and walk up to her until I'm standing at her shoulder. I'm afraid to touch her for fear of freaking her out. "I really tried to leave you alone, and it was killing me. So, since I'm off today, I decided to get drunk last night, and I couldn't stop myself from calling you." I figure I may as well talk about the phone call now. "I'm sorry for being drunk the first time I told you I love you."

She turns to me with this desperate expression on her face before she reprimands me. "Jesse, please! Listen to yourself! You don't _know_ me. How can you say that?"

I interject, "Because I know what I feel."

"Don't say that to me!" she continues.

"Let me guess -- because you can't _handle_ it," I say in a somewhat sad/somewhat angry voice.

"You're damn right!"

I have to work extremely hard to keep myself from kissing her. My first response to something like this would normally be that... 'stop the arguing by changing the mood.'

"Alright. If you don't want me to say it, then I won't say it. It's still true though," I say, and I'm sure to lock my eyes with hers.

"You haven't even known me for two weeks! How can you say that?"

"Two weeks, six months, five years, it doesn't matter. When you know, you know," I answer her, knowing I'm probably pushing too hard, but I will _not_ let her try to convince me that I don't love her. One of the things I love about her is that she's a fighter. I wish she wasn't fighting _me_ though.

"Jesse!" I hear squealed behind me. "Sarah was right! It _is_ you!"

My eyes still rest on Marie as she looks at the sand at our feet. I can't read her expression.

A woman's arms wrap around my neck from behind me as she pulls me down to her and kisses me on the cheek while she walks around me. I look at Marie looking at her before I look for myself to see who it is. I feel terrible I can't place her.

She laughs at my slightly-bewildered expression and says, "It's been a few years. Amber."

"Oh. Um, hi, Amber," I manage to get out.

Marie walks off in the direction of her apartment.

"Marie, wait!" I say with Amber's arms still around me. Marie keeps walking.

"Oh, did I interrupt something?" Amber asks facetiously like she knew exactly what she was doing.

I try to unwrap her arms as I say, "Nice to see you again, Amber, but yes, you're interrupting something." I hazard a glance down at her mildly-peeved expression. _Yes, about three years ago. She was one of mine and Bryce's 'volunteers' for the timed competition._

I'd better warn Bryce.

_But first, I have to catch Marie... who is now_ running _away!_

Amber's arms stick to me like glue while she says, "And I told Diane that if anyone on this island could show us a party it was you and Bryce. Are you going to make me go back on my word?"

"I'm really sorry, Amber, but I just can't anymore." I have to use a lot of strength to get this woman off me. Finally, I'm able to chase after Marie.

'Just let her go, Jesse. She doesn't want you bothering her.'

Shut up.

Amber yells behind me so that it reaches me, "I guess I'll see you at Bryce's bar later then?"

I don't answer; I'm too busy chasing Marie in a very literal sense. _Damn, this woman is fast... and on sand too._

I'm panting now, but I hazard a plea, "Marie, please stop!"

"Leave me alone!" she yells back to me without looking back.

_No, not after that sad look on your face after you thought I had,_ I think stubbornly as her apartment building looms on the horizon. Still, that she said it wrenches painfully at my heart, and I slow down.

She goes a little farther before turning to look back at me. She doesn't see a rock in the sand and trips on it before landing on her side very ungracefully. Then she immediately rolls to her back and holds her knee like she's in pain. Her mouth freezes in a silent scream before she rolls away from me.

"Crap! Marie! Are you okay?!" I yell, covering the distance as fast as I can. She's crying, finally able to catch her breath.

When I get to her, she says through her tears, "Just like in a damn movie. The heroine runs away and trips like an imbecile when she turns to look back."

"So that makes me the bad guy?" I ask, trying to figure out how to help her. She lies there bawling, her whole frame shaking with her sobs. "Marie, what can I do to help?" I plead.

"Nothing," she answers. "It's probably only a sprain. Not broken."

"Then you need ice on it," I point out and wonder how I'm going to get her to some ice.

"No. The body swells for a reason," she replies and works on standing up.

"Don't. You'll hurt yourself."

"I have to get up," she maintains stubbornly.

I watch helplessly as she makes herself stand on her good leg before gingerly trying out her injured one. She lets out a small cry the instant any weight is put on the limb, and she nearly falls sideways before I reach out and catch her.

"Help me to my building," she asks of me and puts an arm around my shoulder for support.

We try hobbling her towards her house for about ten seconds before I get irritated and bend down to pick her up. I growl at her protest and say, "Get over it. I'm perfectly capable of doing this, and you're just going to hurt yourself more by being stubborn." She shuts up after that.

By the time we get her settled on her couch, the sun has started going down. I rummage around in her kitchen to find a bag and put some ice in it.

"The body swells to prevent further injury. It needs to stay swollen," she quietly argues with me through the partition wall between her living room and kitchen.

"Not to the point of cutting off circulation," I argue back.

"It's not that swollen!"

I glance over at her knee and see it's getting very swollen, and I shoot her a dubious look. Then, ice bag filled, I march over to her and shove the bag into her hand.

"Humor me," I request.

The pair of us are quiet for several minutes while she reclines on the couch and I sit on the edge of her coffee table.

"I thought you'd want to go and party with Amber and her friends. This has got to be very boring just sitting here like this," she says quietly without looking at me.

"That reminds me," I say and quickly text Bryce a warning. "I warned Bryce," I tell her in explanation for my silence. "And no, I'm not wanting to go party. This is, with the exception of you being injured, the happiest I've been all week." _And it's true. She might be mad at me, but even that's better than being without her._

"So that's what you do with old lovers. You just brush them aside like they annoy you and warn Bryce to do the same. Did you two share her or did he make it with one of her friends?" she asks in a crass manner, but then she blushes.

I don't know whether to be angry or laugh my head off. "No, we didn't share her, and she was one that knew she didn't matter, that it was just for fun." I can feel my lips quirk as I hold in the laughter. I think it was her blush after she asked that that I found humorous. Some thought nags me in the back of my mind, and I'm irritated that I can't figure out what it is. _So what do we do now?_

I think of something, possibly the _one_ thing that I can still get her to agree to. "Will you give me another chance to take taekwondo lessons? I honestly thought you'd canceled."

Her face pinches for a second as a painful thought occurs to her. "But I'm injured."

"But you'll get better." Then a funny thought occurs to me, "And you can get me doing stuff that doesn't require you showing me how to do it like... waxing cars or painting fences and stuff."

I see her fight it for a second before she laughs. Then she takes a breath and says, "But I don't own a car or the land I live on, so I can't get you doing those things." She thinks for a minute. "But you can do my laundry... since you're so good at folding towels."

"And what would I learn taekwondo-wise about that?" I ask, bewildered but entertained.

"Well, not much about taekwondo itself, but I can't do it myself, and it's partly your fault. And keep in mind I'll be keeping an eye on you. You need to learn that stealing other people's clothing is wrong," she answers, looking me dead in the face.

I work very hard at keeping an innocent expression as I ask, "When do I start?"

# Chapter 6: You Hurt Me

### Marie

Jesse grins at me. _Damn him for being adorable and knowing it!_ He wants to know when he can start with his 'taekwondo training' if you could call it that, and I have no idea when he can start. I tell him so.

"Tell you what," he says and sits up a little to stretch and scratch the back of his head. I wonder if carrying me earlier hurt his back. I'm not exactly light. "I'm going to walk and get Martha and drive her back here, and while I'm gone, you figure it out." He gets up and walks over to the front door before stopping to point at me. "Stay on the couch!" he orders sternly all of a sudden.

"I was going to!" I fuss back at him, throwing my hands to my sides and pushing my face forward in a belligerent display. _I don't have to do what you say!_ I think childishly.

"Good. Thank you," he says with a small smile now before opening the door, exiting, and closing it behind him. I can hear him humming as he makes his way to the beach.

Stupid, stupid rock!

_'If you weren't running so fast, you wouldn't have fallen so hard,'_ my inner voice tells me.

I sigh a little and adjust the ice to a new spot. At least it helps with the pain. I had been going so fast because I guessed with Jesse's athletic build that he could catch me if I didn't go all out, and I didn't want to be caught.

I had been just about ready to start listening to him when _she_ walked up, reminding me of why I shouldn't. _Players are dangerous, and they hurt you._

But he didn't immediately start flirting or anything when we got here. He just asked when he could start taking lessons. Here I am, pretty much trapped on this couch, and he didn't try to take advantage of the situation.

_But he'll be back._ I actually make a somewhat-relieved sigh with this thought. _The 'happiest he's been all week,' he said._ I have to admit, yet again, that things are better with him around. I'm glad he's coming back. No, I'm thrilled he's coming back.

_He tried to leave me alone and couldn't!_ I think with stupid tears rolling down my face. _Why am I crying?!_

I answer myself. _I'm just so so relieved that he didn't give up on me after all. I missed him!_

I make a disgusting sniffing noise and dry my face. I can't let him see that I've been crying.

He missed me too.

_Please, Jesse. Don't be playing me! I don't know the difference, and I'm afraid,_ I think sleepily, tired from my crying. I lay my head against the back of the couch and fall asleep.

"Marie?" Jesse asks as he lightly shakes me awake.

I look over at him before I realize my ice bag has started leaking.

"Here, let me get that," he offers, takes the bag, and carries it off to the kitchen.

I try to rest my head against the couch like I had it before, but another pressing need prevents me from being comfortable.

"I need to use the bathroom," I say and move to get up. He immediately runs over to me, telling me to not get up on my own and let him help me. I guess I don't have a choice. "I'm going to need to see a doctor. I don't think this will heal easily, and I'm worried there might be something else wrong than just a sprain."

"I hope not," he states. "I'll drive you to the clinic tomorrow morning before I have to go to the store."

While I'm hobbling around in the bathroom, a thought occurs to me. _What am I going to do about work?_

I ask Jesse this after I leave the restroom. He helps me to my bed since the couch is a little wet from the ice, and I'm tired. He'd better not get any ideas about putting me to bed.

"Oh that," he says, talking about my job. "I thought of that and called Bryce and told him what happened. Well, not _everything_. We all, Erin in the background, agreed that Erin could work your shifts for you. I'm hoping that's okay with you. Just for a few days anyway."

_He already thought about it._ "Yes. I hope it's just for a few days," I say before he helps me lie down.

"I um... brought stuff with me so that I could stay here tonight." He quickly adds, "Sleeping on the couch! You know, in case you need anything you can just yell."

_He's actually fidgeting._ "But the couch is wet from the ice."

"Doesn't bother me," he responds. "Listen, Marie, it's just in case you need help. Okay?"

I don't see any hidden agenda in his eyes, only him wanting to be helpful. "Okay," I agree.

For a little while, I worry that I'll have trouble going to sleep with Jesse in my living room, but I'm out within minutes.

"Whoa! Hang on a sec!" Greg begs, throwing up his hands. "I thought we already explained it. We're friends. You don't have anything to worry about. Elena darling, please... don't be upset."

I'm dreaming of my mother and my old step-father. They're standing in the living room in the house we lived in when she was still married to him.

"Don't be upset?" she growls. "Greg, you're cheating on me. Don't play me for a fool! Get past third base? Then, it sounded like she was trying to convince you to leave me!"

"Elena, I love you. I could never leave you. Don't worry about that."

"I'm not going to listen to your meaningless words any longer. I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the couch tonight. Or, Marie's bed is available now that she and Xavier are at John's," she snaps and moves to walk around him to head up the stairs. Of course, he outmaneuvers her and blocks her path.

The pair of them talk for a little while while Greg tries to explain to Elena his friendship with Sylvia.

"Do you finally believe me?" Greg asks, running his fingers through her hair.

Elena sighs and says tiredly, "Maybe I was overreacting. It's just, you have to admit things looked that way."

Greg chuckles a little and pulls Elena close before kissing her. After pulling back, he says, "I love you."

"I love you too, and I know that you'd never cheat on me. You'd never keep something like that from me because you love me," Elena says, now believing she had been silly to throw a fit like she did.

Greg's entire frame wilts as he takes in what Elena says.

Elena watches him worriedly as he steps back and covers his face with his hand. "Oh Elena, I'm such an idiot. I can't live with myself."

"What? What is it?" she asks, trying to keep herself from throwing a fit similar to the one from which she just recovered.

_Greg closes his eyes tightly behind his hand as he answers robotically, "I_ have _cheated on you. With Sylvia. While you were pregnant."_

I have no idea where this is coming from. I learned from Mom what had happened that day, but this is in much better detail than I could've imagined.

The dream shifts, I guess ahead in time. Greg and Elena are standing in the backyard at her garden.

Greg asks, "And what was it you thought about?"

"Huh?" Elena asks like she's just come out of a trance. "Oh. Nothing, actually. I thought about nothing." The pair get silent for a few seconds.

"Elena darling, you must understand the horrible guilt I feel. I screwed up."

Elena quickly stops him from apologizing further by saying, "I'm not ready to talk about it."

_Greg begs, "No, you_ must _talk about it. Please let_ me _talk about it with you."_

"What more is there to say, Greg?" she asks and acts like his name leaves a bad taste on her tongue.

"A lot more! Stop trying not to think about it! I can see that blank stare in your eyes that you get when something bad happens to you. We need to talk about this now."

"I have nothing to say to you. I don't want to talk about it," she answers mechanically.

He continues to try to get her to talk about fixing their broken relationship. Elena brushes him off and states that she needs to go check on Ben. Greg informs her he'd just finished giving him a bottle.

He reaches for her, knowing that if he could only kiss her that things would improve. She backs away from him like he could burn her with a simple touch.

"Please don't," she says. "Just don't." Tears look to be forming in her eyes, but it's difficult to tell for sure.

Greg drops his hands, his expression crestfallen. For just a moment, Elena's hard look softens before she shakes it off.

"I just can't handle this!" she says and storms past him and into the house.

The dream shifts forward again, now the pair stand in their old bedroom.

"I want time, Greg. Time to heal," Elena says. "I love you, but you've hurt me. I want to establish a sense of trust again."

The sun looks like it's come up. It must be the next morning. Greg moves to pull Elena into his arms.

"I told you," Elena says. "I need time."

Greg looks angry. "Just how much damn time are we talking here, Elena 'darling'?" His voice sounds sarcastically cruel when he says the word darling.

More harsh words pass between them, and Elena leaves the room to go take a shower.

Greg throws his hands up in a helpless gesture and speaks loudly towards the bathroom as he says, "I give up, Elena. You're right. I don't know what you mean. I don't know what you want. I tried."

He gets dressed in his sports uniform and leaves. In the middle of the day, while Elena is at work, he comes back home, writes Elena a note, pays the sitter to stay later, and walks out the door.

_"_ _Jesse isn't me_ _,"_ Greg's voice says crisp and clear in my dream, speaking directly to me. I feel shocked to my core. Greg is dead.

I hated what he did to my mother. First, he convinced her to divorce my dad, and then he cheated on her. I hated him.

Seeing that whole scene brings it all back, and I start crying.

I hated you, Greg! You hurt Mom! You hurt Dad! You hurt... me!

"Marie, wake up," I hear as someone shakes me a little. Hands wipe my cheeks. "Please, stop crying." I open my eyes and see Jesse through the semi-darkness as he crouches next to the bed with his hands still wiping my cheeks. I let out a couple more sobs while I work on absorbing everything that was shown to me in the dream.

Somehow, that was Greg showing me all that stuff. That's the only explanation... if there can _be_ an explanation for the dream.

"Just another crazy dream," I say through little hiccups.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks me softly while he brushes a few strands of hair off my face.

"It was a dead man's memories," I say cryptically. _'Jesse isn't me,' he said. Greg gave up and left. For Dad's sake, I'm glad he did, but Greg crushed Mom when he did that,_ I think as I realize how what he did affected me as well.

"A dead man?" Jesse asks, and I don't need the light on to imagine the incredulous surprise that must be on his face.

"Sorry. I must sound crazy," I say and go ahead and explain my dream in short detail. I leave out the part at the end.

This is the part where I'm supposed to tell him I'll be okay and that he can go back to sleep on the couch, but I don't want him to go.

"So," Jesse asks, "he just left her, and they got a divorce?"

"Yes. Then he wanted her back, but by that time she was starting to date my dad again too. Then there was this crazy man that shot and killed him," I answer sleepily.

"That explains how he's dead," Jesse says.

"Yes. It's a long story, and I'm tired," I answer. I stayed up too late last night composing that message I left on his phone.

"I'll leave so you can sleep some more," he says quietly. "Anything you need?"

"Don't go," I say in a small voice before I can stop myself.

Jesse freezes while I try to keep from panicking. _What was I thinking?!_

"I mean," I swallow as I try to explain, "I don't want the dream to come back." I want to add a 'that's all' at the end, but that would be a lie.

"Then I'll stay," he says quietly, walks around the bed, and lies down on the other side. I wish I could see his expression in the darkness. His back is towards the window, so all I see is his silhouette.

I bite my lip as he stays on his half of the bed, on his side, facing me. A war takes place inside me with half of me cursing the fact that I told him to stay while the other half wants me to move towards him in hopes that he'll hold me. I'm guessing that he won't try anything for fear of me biting his head off or attacking him. I don't blame him. Closing my eyes and taking in a steadying breath, I realize that _I_ have to be the one to go to _him_. I start to scoot towards him.

"Don't hurt yourself!" he admonishes me quietly as he quickly closes the distance between us.

He must be able to read me like a book because he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. For a few seconds, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. _No wonder he called me 'little.'_ His shoulders blot out the small amount of light coming from the window, and he's _warm_... and I like it. He even takes special care to not hurt my knee.

I relax and rest my head against his bare chest, and his arms tighten around me while he lets out a shaky exhale. His arms stay tight around me, and he starts taking several deep breaths. After a little while, I get concerned that I'm doing something to make it hard to for him to control himself.

"Jesse, are you o-"

"No, I'm not," he answers quickly before I get halfway through my question, and his mouth descends upon me, unerringly finding mine.

I'm immediately caught up in the spell of his kiss even if a small noise of shocked surprise escapes me. _Has it really been a week since I last kissed him? The hot tub dream didn't count._

My heart beats out of control while his hand reaches back and holds the back of my head in place so that he can keep kissing me like a man possessed. I. am. getting. kissed. I can't say 'we're kissing' because I haven't a chance at catching up, and he has no intention of letting me. It's all I can do to take it all in, and I really start to worry that he'll want to push things past the point where I'm comfortable. He doesn't. He only kisses me... insanely... but still only kisses me.

_How long can he keep up this crazy pace?_ I think desperately after a few minutes go by when he shows no sign of slowing down. I let another small noise out, hoping to tell him he's wearing me out with this intensity. He catches on and slows down for about half a minute before he groans and picks up the fervor of his kiss again.

_Jesse, please!_ I mentally beg, let out another noise, and hit his shoulders lightly with my fists.

"Don't be mad at me," he gasps out suddenly. "Please don't be mad at me! I can't help it. I'm here. And you're here. I'm sorry. I couldn't stand it. I had to at least kiss you."

I try to answer him before he can complete his emotional tirade, but I have to work to catch my breath. He acts like he wants to start up again, but I place my hand over his mouth. "Shh," I say simply and try to slow down my breathing. "I'm not... mad... I'm just... trying to catch my... breath."

He noticeably relaxes and brings his hand up to hold my hand that covers his mouth before he kisses each of my fingers individually.

"Let's... just go... to sleep," I say, my breathing getting slowly under control.

"I promise I'll try," he answers with a small laugh in his voice.

I let out an exasperated sigh and curl up in his arms again. Plain, ordinary dreams come to me when I drift off to sleep with Jesse kissing my forehead, my hair, my fingers in the hand he still has, and anywhere else he can easily reach without being too obnoxious about it.

# Chapter 7: Pandora's Box

### Bryce

"Stay," I quietly demand and prevent a negative answer by making sure her mouth is otherwise busy. She makes some mildly-annoyed whine since I won't let her talk.

Erin has been staying at her house more often than not lately, and it's driving me crazy. She'd stayed at the bar with me tonight while I worked. Then, after a strange phone call from Jesse, she tells me she wants to sleep at her place again tonight. She's slept at her house the past three nights! I got spoiled, I guess, when the bastard was on the island and she stayed at my place the whole time.

Sean. She told me she emailed him and that was the way that she finally got closure. I hate that she contacted him again after all that we went through, and I worry that she's continuing to contact him all these nights she's not with me. I don't want to outright ask her, but I can't help but worry.

She jerks back from me and says, "Bryce, you'll see me tomorrow."

Yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow was supposed to be Marie's other day off, but she's apparently gone and sprained her knee... and Jesse was involved... somehow. I have to train Erin a little tomorrow. I hope Jesse knows what he's doing this time. Ever since the party he threw last Wednesday, it was a little awkward around Marie since I _knew_ my best friend was mooning over her. Maybe things are looking up for them... except for her sprained knee.

My hand slips down over Erin's delectable derriere, and I pull her against me, offering a promise should she come back inside with me tonight.

"I'll see you tomorrow if you sleep here as well," I offer.

"Get your hand off my behind," she mildly scolds me.

I laugh a little and ask, "Why? I like my hand where it is. You have a fantastic behind."

"I'll stay over tomorrow night," she counteroffers.

"Okay. Good. And tonight too," I reply stubbornly.

"Bryce..." she whines.

"Why don't you want to sleep here anymore?"

"I just said I'm spending the night tomorrow."

"But why not tonight too?"

She shakes her head no. "Me staying here should be the exception, not the rule."

"See, now that's where I disagree. I miss you when you're not here," I explain for the umpteenth time. "Please stay." _Damn it, Erin! I'm dying here!_ I work on massaging her ass.

She groans and asks, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can," I answer simply. "Because I love you, and I don't want you to leave." I'm about ready to throw her over my shoulder and carry her, kicking and screaming maybe, back into the house.

"I told you. We need to slow down a little," she brings up her trump card.

"Who says it _has_ to be this way?" I ask. I've thought about that little 'discussion' we had when I sat, stunned, during her well-prepared speech about how we're moving too fast for her and for me not to take it personally yada yada yada, and I've decided that since she says she's over Sean then why can't we go whatever 'speed' we want?

"Me," she answers.

"You said you're over him. That's what was holding you back before, right?"

"And I'd hoped to _ease_ into this. I love you. My head is spinning though."

"Looks to be screwed on just right to me," I say, hoping to lighten the mood a little with a very bad joke. She lets out a half giggle/half groan while I reach up and hold both sides of her face to check and make sure her head isn't spinning.

I sigh. "Alright. Can't blame me for trying. Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

I love kissing her, and I try to get as much out of this one as I possibly can since I'm 'looking forward' to another lonely night.

"Don't forget," I remind her. "Swimsuit." We're going to the beach tomorrow with my sister's family... to one of the smaller parks to roast marshmallows and hotdogs and stuff. Then, Pam is going to keep Adele for us since Erin is... working... with me tomorrow.

What was I thinking?!

"I'll remember. Then it's off to learn the ropes!" she says happily.

I'm scared to death Erin will make a terrible waitress. She's too shy. Not to mention it feels wrong to have her working for me. I know other people work for/with their significant others all over the place, but I know myself and my limitations. Agreeing to this was a stupid move. Hopefully, Marie won't take long to get better. I'd rather have her working on crutches... or on a barstool learning to make drinks. _Hm..._ "Yeah," I say, nonplussed still and scheming about how to convince Erin to get this crazy idea out of her head. She looks too happy about it.

I grudgingly tell her goodnight and kiss her one more time before she gets on her Barbie-pink scooter for her short trip 'home.'

I check on Adele before I head off to my room.

_How pathetic can I get? How did_ I _become the clingy type? I used to find this incredibly annoying. I annoy myself now._

_It_ used _to be that if I felt even an inkling of feeling for any particular woman that I'd immediately go out and look for a party elsewhere. I_ definitely _don't have that 'out' anymore, nor do I want it, but I_ hate _this loneliness!_

What the hell am I going to do about this?

I all but got down on my knees and begged her to stay. I thought for sure she would tonight since she'd stayed out so late with me at the bar. I guess this is what I get for anticipating.

Sure, she had to get 'home' so she could email Sean.

Stop it, Bryce!

_I figured Erin wanted to slow down a little, but I don't know how much more of this I can take. I want her to move in. She and Adele like each other, so what is the fucking problem?! This is faster than most couples take it, but I_ love _her._

I sit and try to remind myself how fast everything _has_ gone, all things considering. It only just barely makes me feel better. I get up to turn off the lights before I flop down on my bed. Erin's scent on the sheets has weakened.

_The time afterward was hell on earth, but I'm glad Ashley divorced me. Now_ she _was a real bitch. Damn, that woman would drive me crazy. A month one time. No wonder my sex drive exploded once Jesse got me 'dating' again... and sex was available all over the place._

I groan and roll over to put my face into Erin's pillow. If I dig my nose down into it hard enough, I can really smell her.

_Yes, I'm glad Ashley divorced me. If I'd met Erin while I was still married, I'd have been driven mad. God's toenails, she probably would've dated Jesse. They get along a little_ too _well I think_. I kept her from going to his house, because she was concerned, successfully all week while he was moping.

I pick my head up a second to get a huge breath of fresh air before I go right back to shoving my face into her pillow.

I went through hell, but it turns out it was all worth it because I came out of it with Erin.

She shone like an angel in the darkness that day in the park. No wonder I couldn't stop staring at her.

Now, my 'guiding light' wants a little space... so she can chat online with her ex-fiancé. I wish I knew for sure, but I'm afraid to bring it up. She's not telling me something.

Why does she want to slow things down? I love her, and I want to be with her all the time. She obviously doesn't want the same with me.

All these nights when she sleeps at her house remind me of when Ashley first left me. Maybe that's got something to do with it.

It's weirdly poetic, but Erin is my light in the darkness, pulling me out of that time of my life.

It's not fair to her to do that. I have to pull myself out on my own as well.

That's it! No wonder I've been holding on so tight.

I pull my face up out of her pillow, roll over on my side with my head on my pillow, and I hug hers to me.

_Erin can't do everything_ is my last thought before passing out asleep.

Adele is out of school today for some holiday for some long ago battle. So, we're all going to spend the morning at the beach until I (and Erin) have to go open the bar. I've cut the hours down to noon to midnight so that I could work out a decent schedule. I've found an architect and given him the ideas I want. Then he recommended an interior decorator, and I took his recommendation. Now I'm just waiting on the architect so that I can decide when to close for construction.

I like Erin's swimsuit, but what the hell has she done with her hair? Those pigtails cover her up!

I walk over to her and say, "Hello, beautiful." Then I kiss her smile. I questioningly tug on one of her pigtails.

She shrugs and says, "I thought I'd try something different. Why? You don't like it?"

"Actually, no. They cover you up." I grin to her blush.

"That's kind of the idea," she says then goes on about how she hopes it's early enough to where she doesn't have to worry about sunscreen. Her skin's much lighter than mine, and I usually don't think about things like that.

Simon and Pam show up with Jeremy. Simon walks over to me and starts talking about stuff going on at the fire station after I ask. Pamela gets Jer-jer set up playing with some toys in the grass while she works on lighting up a fire in a metal pit a little ways off the beach.

Suddenly, she pulls some sort of archaic beeper out of their beach bag and runs over to show Simon.

"Sorry, gotta go," he says quickly and runs down the beach.

Erin gets up out of her lounge chair and walks over to ask me about Simon before going to skip stones with Adele into the calm lagoon. I smile, again happy that they get along, before going to talk to my sister for a second.

"Oh, I meant to tell you," Pam says, "Bernadette got a job at the school." Pamela used to teach kindergarten before she had Jeremy. She says she's taking a few years off for her second job: being a mom. She and Simon want to have more kids. "Working the front desk," she finishes.

"Hm. Well, maybe her attitude problem will come in handy there," I say before she has to turn around to prevent Jeremy from sticking his hand into the fire pit. Erin and Adele's laughter makes its way over to me.

Walking as silently as I can, I sneak up behind Erin before jumping in front of her and surprising her by grabbing her face and kissing her. I hear the sound of a camera taking a picture, and I turn around to see that my sister was acting just as sneaky as I was, following me with Jer-jer on her hip to get a picture like the one she just got. When she sees that I caught her, she giggles maniacally. Then she tells Adele she can roast marshmallows now. I guess it doesn't matter what time of day it is to roast marshmallows.

I decide to have one; Adele decides to have three.

Pamela plays in the grass with Jeremy, trying to keep him from eating bugs. That boy's hands are _fast_. Suddenly, a memory of Ashley doing the same thing hits me whether I want it to or not. The only difference is Ashley would just disintegrate every bug in a twenty-foot radius, and Adele would cry. I often thought we should just let her try a few bugs; she'd get over that real quick. Ashley thought I was nuts, trying to poison our daughter or something. I'd argue back that at least I didn't make her cry.

_Damn it! I don't want to think about her!_ Memories have been flooding back to me lately like they've been released from some Pandora's Box. I don't know how to deal with them anymore, and they're driving me crazy.

Adele's phone rings in the beach bag. I know it's hers because of the ringtone from one of her favorite bands.

"You can go to Helen's house if it's okay with Aunt Pam," I tell Adele, suspecting I know who it is, while she reaches for her phone,.

"It's not Helen's phone number," Adele says.

I watch her like a hawk when she decides to answer it anyway.

"Hello? ... Who gave you this number? ... Why?" she asks into the phone. "What about?"

"Who is it?" I ask, irritated.

"It's Todd. Helen gave him my phone number," she tells me quickly. "I was talking to my dad," she says into the phone now.

_Thanks, Helen._ I debate taking the phone from my daughter, telling this Todd that she's too young to be talking to boys on the phone, and hanging up.

Adele giggles, and I stand up. Out of nowhere, Erin reaches up and stops me from taking the phone from my baby girl. Adele looks at me like I just sprouted antennae and walks away a little from the fire pit.

I spin around and take a few paces in the other direction while Adele chats with that boy.

"It's okay," Erin whispers to me as she walks over to me.

_No, it's not. You don't understand. That is my_ baby _talking to some boy!_ I want to scream. I keep quiet though.

I feel a mild panic as I think about how much I've missed during my personal dark ages. While the new bar gets built, I'm spending as much time as I can with my daughter.

Erin silently reaches down and holds both of my hands. She has no idea how much she really does mean to me.

Adele's voice carries over to us, "No, I have a feeling I won't be allowed to do that. ... Because. .... Because because. And I'm making brownies with my aunt this afternoon anyway. .... I don't know; I'll ask." She turns to Pamela who's quietly watching the scene before her, "Can Todd come over to your house?"

"No," I answer for my sister.

'Sorry,' Pamela mouths to Adele. I'm grateful she didn't try to undermine me.

"No, you can't. Sorry, Todd. .... No, it's my dad," Adele says into the phone.

Get off the damn phone, Adele!

Adele turns and sees me staring a hole into her.

"Um, Todd, I gotta let you go," she says. She hangs up, puts her phone in the bag, and asks me, "Why can't he come over?"

"Because it's rude to invite yourself over, and because I said so," I say and watch as she puts one fist on her hip and looks at me with a belligerent expression. I warn her to watch her attitude.

"It's about time we go change, right?" Erin asks me.

"Yeah," I answer shortly.

"Alright, well, I'll just go home and take a quick shower before I change."

"Okay," I answer with a single-word sentence again. Erin looks at me worriedly but doesn't ask me about my mood.

Later, at the bar, when I see what Erin has changed into, I have to work very, _very_ hard to restrain myself. _Did she have to wear_ that _outfit?_ She's wearing the blue crop top with those fantastic white shorts again.

This is a bad idea.

Please, freak out and come to the realization all on your own that you can't do this.

I clear my throat and ask, "What the hell are you wearing?" _Shit, that sounded awful._

She mildly glares at me, and I'm not surprised. "You said earlier that I shouldn't cover up so much, and this is comfortable for being outside all day." While I decide what to say to counter her, she says, "And Marie once wore a _very_ similar outfit the other day, and you said nothing to her about it. In fact, you teased Jesse about his reaction."

I take a step towards her and say with my teeth clenched, "But Marie isn't my girlfriend. I don't notice her like I do you."

"So your problem is that you notice me," she says flatly.

This isn't going to work. This is exactly why I didn't want to give her the job in the first place. I already want to pull her shorts down and have her over the bathroom sink.

"This isn't going to work, Erin. I'm sorry."

Her mouth drops. "What? You're not even going to give me a chance? If I don't cover for Marie, who will?"

"Jones and I will figure something out," I say quickly.

"Bryce, at least give me a chance."

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about here," I try to explain without telling her everything.

"Hey, Jones," Erin asks, "would you give us a minute?"

Jones nods, gesturing to the empty bar. Then Erin takes my hand and pulls me into the men's room.

Once inside, she spins around and snaps, "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? You've been in a weird mood all day."

Thoughts fly through my head: _What's bothering me?!_ You're _bothering me standing right where I wanted to drag you not five minutes ago. I'm going to be horribly distracted by you the whole evening even worse than before because now I'm your_ boss _for all intents and purposes. Memories of Ashley are bombarding me when I least expect them to! I'm worried you're emailing Sean still._

And I'm about ready to explode with lust.

I say none of that.

Instead, I attempt to show her what's wrong... at least as much as she can fix right now. I attack her.

I let her have a moment to get over the shock before I hungrily slant my mouth across hers.

_This, Erin,_ I think as I grind against her for a second.

_Damn it! I can't_ do _this right now!_

I let go of her and take a step back real quick. "Sorry. I think I'm losing my mind."

"Does Marie clean these floors?" she asks out of the blue.

Confused, I answer her anyway. "Uh. Yeah. Marie cleans everything. She's a real neat freak."

"Good. Then I'll guess they're clean enough," she says cryptically.

She grabs both my arms and pulls me into the stall. Once inside, she reaches past me to lock it and then proceeds to undo my shorts. Then I figure out why she asked about the floors when she gets on her knees in the cramped space in front of me.

Funny enough, I've never done anything in this restroom. Several _other_ restrooms all over the island, yes, but never the one at work. For about half a second, I think about telling her she doesn't need to do this, but my mind changes the second her beautiful lips close around me.

_Oh holy fuck!_ I scream inside my head as I thread my fingers into her hair.

After a few seconds, I moan her name as she brings her hands up to hold my hips. _Why am I surprised she's good at this? After the hot tub..._ I can't finish my thought because I have to use whatever brainpower I have left in order to keep myself quiet. This woman is merciless! Does she not have a gag reflex?

My hand flies up to hold onto the top of the door for dear life as my hips automatically work with her fantastic mouth.

"Erin..." I moan a little bit later. "Erin, I'm going to ... If you don't want ..."

She answers me by holding my hips tighter. _Oh god, yes._ That thought alone sends me over the edge, and I pour myself into her mouth. _Shit, she swallowed._

I stand here panting while she takes a small amount of toilet paper and wipes her mouth. "Feel a little better?" she asks me quietly while she stands up. I can't answer her yet. Not verbally at least. When I think I've caught my breath enough, I grab her and kiss her again. She makes a little noise of surprise.

"Yes," I answer her question.

All the other things can wait until later. I'll give this 'Erin being my waitress' thing another chance.

# Chapter 8: Addictive

### Marie

I have no idea how much time has gone by. I feel like I've slept for a little while.

_I'm still in Jesse's arms,_ I think with a small thrill shooting through me with this realization.

His arms tighten the smallest amount when I stir a little.

"Ah!" I cry out suddenly.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asks quickly, sounding worried.

"I forgot about my knee," I explain quietly.

"Do you want some pain meds?"

I tell him yes, and he gets up to find them where I told him they'd be. Once I take them, I hand him the cup of water, and he puts it on the bedside table before lying down next to me and pulling me into his embrace once more.

He suddenly freezes and asks, "Is this still okay?"

"Yes," I answer, and he relaxes again. Then he wordlessly encourages me to lay my head on his chest, and I do so. "Did I fall asleep?" I ask to have something to diffuse the increasingly-combustible atmosphere surrounding us.

"Yeah. About two hours or so. I'm not sure. I dozed a little bit myself," he answers me and starts calmly running his fingers through my hair.

_I'm so warm and comfortable,_ I think before I close my eyes again, hoping to go to sleep. What Jesse does to my hair feels nice.

### Jesse

_Go to sleep, Marie,_ I think as I happily run my fingers through her hair, trying to figure out what I did right. Whatever it is, I hope I _do_ figure it out because I need to keep doing it. This is wonderful.

She relaxes more into me, and it's all I can do to keep myself from getting all over her. I _can't_ mess this up, and I think I've skated on thin ice enough for one night.

_Hm, she didn't act like she minded it when I'd lightly kiss her here and there,_ I think as I start doing that again. I love this!

Twisting around a little, I kiss her forehead, her hair, the top of her nose, somewhere else on her forehead, etc while continuing to stroke the back of her head. My other arm holds her close.

This outfit she wears drives me insane. I love crop tops.

My hand rests on the bare skin of her waist, and I absentmindedly rub the little dip in her waist from her hips. She stirs. Dammit.

"Jesse, I want to sleep," she mumbles out in a whine.

"So sleep," I tell her, smiling a silly smile. "Don't mind me. I'm just lying here kissing you."

"I know. I can't sleep if you're doing that."

"You were before," I point out before leaning my head down to breathe in the fantastic scent of her hair. She smells like apple cinnamon, I think.

"I was more tired then."

"You're not tired now?"

"Yes, I'm tired, but I can't relax if you're doing that."

"What, this?" I ask and lightly kiss her forehead again. I know exactly what she means, but I'm going to kiss her until I can't get away with it any longer. "Or this?" I kiss her hair. "Or do you mean this?" This time, I kiss the tip of her nose.

"All of that," she tells me sleepily.

She has beautiful lips.

"Oh, okay. Well good then, that probably means this is fine."

I pounce upon those beautiful lips of hers eagerly. I'm pushing it. At least this time, I have a little more control so I don't go insane like before. She makes a tiny noise of complaint, but it's more of a 'dammit, I told you I was tired' and not so much a 'get the hell off me.' Tired I can handle just fine.

I only apply enough pressure on her lips so that I can keep kissing her without overwhelming her. _I'm here. I'm kissing you, and I don't want to stop._

I pull back a second so I can whisper, "I missed you." Then, I go right back to kissing her. I could get addicted to these lips.

I immediately notice the tension leave her before one of her hands reaches up to cup my cheek, and she _really_ starts kissing me back. I'm a little surprised, but I don't question it.

I reach up to hold her face, and her cheeks are wet. _What?!_

I can't stand it. "What's wrong?" A million guesses run through my head.

"I'm sorry, Jesse," she cries out sadly.

"What? Why say that?" I hate it when women cry, and Marie crying rips my heart out of my chest.

"For last week. I didn't mean to be a tease."

"I didn't think you _were_ ," I say, trying desperately to figure her out. "If anyone needs to apologize, it's me. I was a jerk."

"No. You were just being you."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically.

"I didn't mean it like that."

I scowl, hold the obvious question inside me, and ask, "Why do you think you were a tease? Because you asked me to stop? That's not being a tease. Don't get me wrong, I mean, I was very... frustrated, but that's because I pushed too hard."

"I let it go too far," she tries to explain.

_No, you didn't let it go far enough,_ I think uncontrollably.

She continues, "I led you to think going that far was what I wanted, so yes, I was a tease."

Just in case she can see me, I work hard to keep from rolling my eyes. I really hope I'm getting somewhere here, trying to figure her out. I have to keep her from tearing herself up like this. "Marie, if you had come onto me as strong as I did you and _then_ said no, _that_ would be being a tease. You're not a tease." _No, you're just scared to death anytime I touch you. ... Did one of them do something to her?!_

I ask, "Who's called you a tease?" _I'll kill 'em._

She stays quiet.

"Did you go to sleep?" I ask quietly.

"Cristina," she whispers.

I'd thought for sure she'd say what's-his-name. I was secretly hoping she would so I could have an even more solid reason to hate him. I'm a little surprised to hear her say Erin's cousin did it.

"Why the hell would she do that?" I think aloud.

She stammers, "Because of how... I was with... Daniel."

"How could she know anything unless... he told her," I answer my own question. _Sonofabitch!_

Marie buries her face in my chest. I squeeze her to me and wonder what to say next.

"Okay," I say encouragingly with a good idea. "Think about who told you that. She's the enemy, right? Of _course_ she would try anything and everything to make you doubt yourself." _Good job, Jesse!_

When she doesn't say anything, I ask, "Doesn't that make sense?"

"Yes," she answers sleepily, and I decide to let her sleep.

I, however, am unable to sleep. I don't want to miss a moment of this. _I want this. I want her. So bad. And not just sex._

I have to close my eyes and take another deep breath. I shouldn't have even thought about it.

Leave her alone, Jesse. She's sleeping.

I decide to bury my nose in her hair, trying to fight the rampaging need for her. Doing this is a stupid idea because it only makes me want her more. _Apple cinnamon. She smells terrific. I want a reminder of what she_ tastes _like,_ I think as I allow myself to move my nose down past her ear.

I stifle a whimper as the voice inside my head says, _'Let her sleep, Jesse.'_

But I want her!

'She needs to sleep.'

So, she can sleep. I only want a taste!

My tongue darts out as I run my mouth along her neck. _Oh yes, I remember now._

She stirs a little, and I lift my head to try to see her in the semi-darkness. She looks to have quickly gone back to sleep, so I kiss her neck very softly. Several different possible future scenarios play out on my head, torturing me.

She stirs again and mumbles, "Jesse, stop. I'm exhausted."

"Believe me; I'm holding back. I'm having a hard time controlling myself," I say into her neck.

"Go to sleep," she offers as a solution.

"Not tired," I say before I lightly kiss those addictive lips.

"Well, I am. Do you need to go back to the couch?"

I freeze. "Well, when you put it that way..." I laugh a little before I continue, "I'll behave."

She nuzzles herself into the space between my neck and shoulders. I'm so happy I could cry. _I wish she'd let me tell her I love her, but that freaks her out,_ I think while I limit myself to only running my fingers through her hair.

I ponder why Marie says she can't handle this and that all the time. I think I have a piece of the puzzle in her lackluster step-father. _She woke up crying after a dream about him, so what he did to her mom must've really affected her. Then what's-his-name cheated on her. Too much cheating. No wonder she doesn't trust anyone._

I lie here and simply enjoy holding her until the alarm on my cellphone goes off.

_Shut up, stupid phone!_ I think as I make it stop. I'd set it early so that we'd have time to get ready and still have enough time to make it to the clinic.

Marie stirs.

"Don't forget your knee," I warn her quietly.

She makes some little noise and nods before curling up into me again. I hold her just a little tighter, not wanting to let go.

My alarm goes off again, and she decides she'll wait and shower later today after asking the doctor what to do. So, I make my way to her shower and remember that I forgot my shampoo. Pondering it for a few seconds, I go ahead and reach for hers, not intending to use much.

_Yep. Apple cinnamon,_ I think with a small laugh escaping me as I wash my hair with her shampoo. I think it's hilarious that I'm going to go around smelling like an apple pie all day.

It's still a little dark when I exit the bathroom, all dressed and ready for work. I walk into Marie's bedroom and see that she's curled into as much a ball as her knee will let her, fast asleep.

After doing what I can to help her get ready, we head out to the clinic. She lets me carry her to Martha, but she insists on hobbling into the clinic while I try to help as much as I can. They have to do some kind of scan. I end up having to call Lara to tell her I'm going to be late and why.

Not too much later, Marie and I exit the clinic (pain medicine prescription filled) with her on crutches and wearing a small knee brace. Thankfully, it's just a sprain, and she should be better in a few weeks.

As I watch Marie stubbornly make her way to Martha by herself, an idea occurs to me. She's not going to have an easy time making herself dinner tonight. I ask her about what she's going to do for lunch, and she absently waves her hand and says something about leftovers. I scowl and keep my thoughts to myself. I hate that I have to work today.

When I drop her off at her house and help her inside, she thanks me for my help (it was my pleasure, trust me) and makes it clear that I shouldn't trouble myself about having to take care of her anymore.

I do my best to hide my hurt with what she said. I _want_ to help. I _like_ to help.

She asked me not to 'trouble myself.' Well, it's no trouble at all to handle dinner tonight.

After work, I head over to The Swan and get a simple dinner for two to go. While I wait for the food to be prepared, I stop by one of those cheap movie rental machines. I randomly pick three.

As I walk up the stairs to her front door, I see through the window that Marie sits on the couch, watching TV. I really hope she doesn't throw me out since I'm coming over unannounced. I knew that if I'd asked, I'd only get shot down.

As nervous as a tenth grader on his first date, I knock on the door. _How does she do this to me?_

She answers the door after a few minutes of agony. I hope it takes so long because she has difficulty getting around. When she opens the door, she doesn't look surprised to see me. She must've looked through her window at me before answering my knock.

"Ta-da!" I cheer and hold up the to-go bags. "I brought dinner!" I smile, willing her to let me in and not get pissed off.

"You did?" she asks while I stand here, lamely, on her front porch.

"Yeah. I didn't like the idea of you having to eat leftovers, and I knew I wouldn't get off work in time to fix something, so I went and got us something. I hope that's okay." I add the bit at the end as a plea.

"Uh. Okay," she says and moves aside so I can pass her on my way to the kitchen. She hobbles after me on her crutches, and I want so badly to just up and carry her. I know that wouldn't be welcome, so I restrain myself.

She puts down her crutches and sits in the first chair as I pull stuff out of the bags. In my opinion, that place really must like using their bags because I got a separate bag for each item. What a waste.

"What did you get?" Marie asks, sounding a little resigned.

Now, _this_ is an area that I hope I didn't screw up. "I got what looks like some kind of macaroni and cheese casserole thing. I thought it looked simple enough, and I've never seen you eat anything with meat in it, so I wondered."

She smiles a little smile at me and says, "My mother is a vegetarian. I'm not, really, but her eating habits rubbed off on me."

"Oh," I say simply before I pull out a bottle of wine. Then, something occurs to me. "Um, what pain medicine did they put you on?"

"Uh, something that starts with oxy something."

"Oxycodone? Percocet?" I ask, and she nods, "Wow. Nice doctor. Be careful though, that shit's addictive." I hear her laugh a little, and I pull out a Coke for her to drink instead of what I'm having.

After I hand her her Coke and pour myself a little wine, she makes some remark about red wine with what I selected to eat. I merely shrug and say it's what I wanted. She can't argue with that.

We finish eating. Her face is very animated as she tells me about the time she and Cristina wore the same dress to a dance of some kind. Then Cristina spilled punch on her dress which caused Marie to get pissed off and punch her.

"Both of our dresses were ruined in everyone's pictures," she states with a vicious grin. "At least _I_ didn't have a black eye."

I can't help but laugh at the righteously-satisfied look on her face. Then I get up to do the dishes.

"No, I'll -"

"Hush, Marie, and let me do the damn dishes," I interrupt her.

"But I feel fine!"

"It's that medicine making you feel like Wonder Woman, and you're not," I say. She reaches for her crutches, mumbling something about me being the 'guest,' and I turn around to bark, "Sit! Down!" _Damn. Me and my stupid temper._ I immediately apologize to her shocked expression. I take a deep breath and say, "If you want to do something, why don't you go and pick out one of the movies I brought. They're on the coffee table."

"You brought movies?" she asks.

"Yes. I couldn't decide on one, so I got three. Pick one," I say with a smile.

She chooses the movie with the longest playtime. I'm glad.

A little ways into the movie, she remarks in a questioning tone, "So, you brought dinner."

"Yes?" I answer, also in a questioning way and wondering where she's going with this.

"And movies."

"Correct."

"Is this a date or something?" she asks with her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Only if you want it to be," I answer, and I know my heart has to be plain on my face at this moment. She sits quietly in thought for too long, so I say, "I just want to be here... for whatever reason." _And I want to stay the night again._

She looks at her hands sitting in her lap.

I take an enormous risk as I ask, "Can I stay here again tonight?"

She expels a huge breath and asks a question of her own. "Sleeping on the couch?"

"Only if I have to," I answer similarly to an earlier answer. It's killing me that I want to kiss her so very much, but I worry how she'd respond. Those perfect lips... I'll never get enough of them.

"But I don't need you for help like I did last night," she states.

"But _I_ need _you_ ," I say, laying it on the line.

"Jesse..." she whines with a worried look on her face.

"Let's just finish watching the movie," I say quickly and capture one of her hands.

# Chapter 9: Beyond the Boundaries of Friendship

###  Adele

Aunt Pam lets me escape. I think she understands that when I say I'm going to go to the snack truck what I'm really going to do.

Todd had sent me a text asking me to meet him. I ate dinner at Aunt Pam's, but Todd says he's still hungry. His dad gave him a little money to go spend if he would just get lost. His dad's head chef at White Shores resort, and his mom works there too doing something I can't remember.

I stash my bicycle in the shrubbery, and I see Todd walking up.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? Dad gave me fifty big ones," Todd asks me in place of a greeting.

"No. I'm good. You didn't eat dinner at your house?"

"Yeah, I did, but there's nothing like a greasy hamburger."

_Ew,_ I think and watch as Todd orders his food. He orders fries as well, claiming that I can eat some if I want. I can't resist, and I get the feeling he didn't order them for himself at all because he only eats two.

When we both finish eating (I can't believe how much he can eat!), we toss our trash in the bin and have a seat at one of the benches just because.

The moderately-loud hum of the refrigerator for the truck tries to drown out Todd's voice as he asks, "Does your dad not like me?"

I turn to look at him with a confused expression on my face as I ask back, "What gave you that idea?"

"He wouldn't let me go to your aunt's."

"Oh that. He didn't like you inviting yourself over."

"Well, I only did that because I didn't think you would invite me. Not that you were trying to be rude or anything. I didn't think you'd think of it."

I shrug. "I didn't."

"So, his only problem is that I invited myself over?"

"I guess so. He didn't _say_ anything else besides that 'because I said so' thing," I say and move my head around on the 'because I said so' part.

Eduardo told Helen he likes her. Naturally, she's over the moon about it, and he's all she talks about now. It drives me crazy! Can we _please_ talk about something besides boys for a change?! The result of Helen driving me crazy and her wanting to be with Eduardo all the time this past week is that Todd and I have spent a lot of time together. With Helen driving me up the wall, I prefer his company over hers. I can guess _he's_ not going to want to sit and talk about boys all afternoon.

I wonder if Todd is as irritated by Eduardo as much as I am by Helen.

"Does your dad know you're here?" he asks.

"My dad's at work. My aunt does," I say, not telling him about how I left out the part that he would be here and that that's the only reason I decided to get out in the first place. _If Daddy hadn't have told me no to inviting Todd over, I might not care. What I don't get is why was Daddy willing to let Helen come over and not Todd? Sure, Todd's a boy, but what does that have to do with-_

"I like you, Adele," Todd says quietly to his knees.

"Yeah, we're friends," I say, assuming that's what he meant.

I see him turn to look at me out of the corner of my eye.

"No, I mean _like_ you like you."

_Oh no. Helen was right!_ I stare down at my shoes while Todd scoots closer the tiniest bit.

"Eduardo told me I should tell you," he says.

"Because it worked so well for him," I say dryly.

"Well, yeah," he says, now starting to sound a little unsure of himself. He scoots a little bit closer again.

I don't like this feeling going through me right now. Todd is freaking. me. out. I want to get up and leave. _I thought Todd was going to be my new friend. There Helen goes acting weird, and I find out Todd is actually pretty cool to hang out with. Now, he obviously wants us to be a couple just like Helen and Eduardo are._

Todd has the nerve to reach over and hold my hand.

"Do you-" he starts to ask me something, but I throw is hand off me and get up off the bench.

I turn to him and hope I don't start crying as I angrily ask, "Why?" I decide I really don't want to hear his answer, and instead, I turn around and run towards the relative, simple calmness of the beach. Most of the tourists have packed up their things and left to go back to their hotels.

I hear Todd behind me yell, "Wait!"

I can run faster than him.

I slow down when I get closer to the water.

How far away is the mainland? I've never been there. How long would it take me if I swam to it? I bet the sharks would eat me.

How far away is Mommy? Why did she leave? Why did she want that man more than us?

I hear Todd running behind me, and I quickly reach up to wipe away my tears before he can get here.

I turn around to face Todd since there's no real point to running anyway.

"I didn't mean to freak you out!" he pants.

"I don't want a boyfriend," I say bluntly.

"Oh." The small word leaves his mouth in a rush. "I... just... Well, I... Why not?"

"Because I just want a friend! Helen's gone weird on me, and all she wants to do is talk about Eduardo, and I get so _bored_ with that! I thought we could be friends since you still acted normal. And now..."

"We can be friends!" he gets in quickly. "Just like before. Pretend I never told you."

" _Pretend_?!" I yell, and my hands start feeling hot.

He flips his hair out of his eyes for a second before he answers, "Yes. I can do it if you can do it. I mean, hey, I've pretty much lost my best friend to your best friend, so that puts us in the same boat right?"

"But this changes _everything_!" I complain as heat lightning streaks across the cloudless sky.

"No. It doesn't have to. Please? Let's pretend I never said it. What I really need is a friend too," he says earnestly.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes," he says, looking me in the eyes.

"Okay," I say. "And I gotta get back to Aunt Pam's."

"Okay," he says too. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

We hug, and he says, "Sorry for freaking you out."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, remember? Because nothing happened," I say back to him.

"Right," he agrees.

### Marie

Jesse grabs my hand and won't let go.

I know he wants right now to count as a date, and I don't want to have to explain to him _again_ that I'm not ready to date anyone. The last time I did that we didn't speak for nearly a week. I'd rather go ahead and let him count this as a date than live through another week like I just had.

I relax a little and stop trying to subtly get my hand back. Jesse notices. That's all I have to do is think about how miserable I was to make me want him to never leave.

_So what does that mean?_ I think as Jesse's thumb starts rubbing my hand wherever it can reach. _I tell him I'm not ready to date anyone, but I don't want him to leave._

I want him to stay, but I don't want this to count as a date.

If it weren't for him holding my hand, I could pretend this was two friends sitting on a couch, watching a movie together. He simply had to start holding my hand, didn't he?!

I tug on my hand again. _No, Jesse. Let go!_

"Why are you not wanting me to hold your hand?" he asks quietly in a somewhat-sad voice. "It's only a hand."

I manage to find my voice, finally. "Because that's the real difference here between a date and just two friends hanging out."

"You spent the better part of last night in my arms, Marie. I'd say that pretty much rules out the 'just friends' thing," he says, his eyes on the television as he brings my hand to his lips.

I want to faint as he repeatedly kisses my hand, his eyes fastened upon the television. I cannot focus on what he said a minute ago because of what he does.

_No no no! This isn't happening!_ I gasp when his tongue slips out of his mouth for a second when he kisses my hand again.

He turns his head in my direction a few seconds after my gasp.

"Tell me, Marie. What is it about this scenario that bothers you the most?" His eyes look imploringly at me. "Is it me?"

I lose my voice again. I finally shake my head no after trying unsuccessfully for several long seconds to figure out what to say.

"Is it me being here? Do you want me to leave? I don't want to, but if you really, really need me to, I will."

"It's what you _do_ while you're here that scares me," I say in a shaky voice.

"Holding your hand?" he asks, and I feel unable to escape those hazel-green eyes.

"Everything," I answer, trying not to cry.

He watches me, concerned, for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and asks, "So you're okay with me being here so long as I don't do anything. I'm supposed to stay in one spot and not move a muscle." He chuckles a little with that thought.

I imagine him standing perfectly still in the corner or something, not allowed to move, and I have to smile at the ridiculous picture it makes.

"No," I say.

He smiles when he opens his eyes before he asks, "So what then?"

"It's when you want to do anything beyond the boundaries of friendship," I try to explain and start to feel a little bit more comfortable, finally able to say my thoughts.

His smile leaves his face when he says, "That's terrible because I have this urgent need to kiss you." He lets go of my hand to reach up and cup my cheek. "And I'm guessing that's beyond the bounds of friendship."

_No, please! If you do, I'm lost._ I try to turn away, but his grip on my face tightens.

"I thought you liked it when I kissed you," he adds quietly. "You act like you do."

I snap, "Of course I do! You have to know by now you're an amazing kisser. How can I not?"

He leans towards me, but I'd anticipated this move. I bring my arm around in a small circle in front of me to force his hand off my face from the inside, and I lean back away from him. I hadn't counted on him wrapping his other arm around my waist, and that prevents me from scooting backwards. I press on his chest in an effort to ward him off.

"And yet, you're stopping me," he says angrily. Then he looks like he chastises himself for getting angry. "Of course you are." His other arm joins its partner around my waist as he crushes me to him, shaking the tiniest bit. Next, he buries his face in my hair and asks, "Is that why you kiss me back? Simply because I'm a good kisser?"

_He's strong,_ I think as I feel like his arms want to hold me to him and never let go. We sit on the couch, turned towards one another with him leaning into me a little. I don't really know what to do with myself. _He's begging me for some verification that I kiss him back for a real reason. Oh Jesse, how do I tell you this? I really like you, but I can't be the girlfriend you need._

His forehead plants itself in the hollow of my throat, and he exhales shakily. I don't know where to put my arms, so I rest them lightly on his.

"Please. Answer the question," he whispers over the sound of the movie we've abandoned.

"I'm trying to figure out what to say," I say quietly.

He tenses up, almost like he knows what I'm trying to say and bracing himself for it.

"Then take all the time you need," he chokes out like he no longer wants to hear it. "Days, weeks, months, a decade... as long as I can hold you while you think."

My heart aches when I hear the pain in his voice as he repeats what he'd said after that first time he kissed me. _Greg said the same thing to Mom when she asked him for time to rebuild their relationship. Jesse sounded so angry that day when he asked me how long it would take me to 'dump all this shit' I carry around with me. Now, he acts like he'd rather savor this moment than want to rush me ahead to a time when I'm ready to date again._

_The question was about why I kiss him back. Well, because I want to, but_ why _do I want to?_

He runs his nose up my neck to just behind my ear. Then he reaches a hand up to hold the back of my head before he breathes, "Fuck it, Marie. I don't have to know why."

His lips take possession of mine in a desperate kiss.

"Jesse..." I whisper, hoping to calm him down, but instead, he uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss. I whimper a little like a lost child while his tongue devours me from the inside-out.

"Admit it," he says into my lips while continuing to kiss me. "You have feelings for me too. I am not imagining this. This is not simply because I'm a good kisser. You may not feel as strongly as I do, but you like me. Why else kiss me back like that? Why else am I aching to kiss you other than that's the truest way you can show me, and I need some way to feel the love I have for you reciprocated?" He kisses me deeply again for a minute or so. "Well, I also kiss you because I want to, dammit."

After a few minutes, he speaks again. "Say it," he growls. "Say you like me."

"I thought you didn't have to hear it."

"I changed my mind." After a slight pause, he says, "You can't _kiss_ me like that and feel nothing for me. Admit it." I freeze up, quiet and afraid, and he groans before kissing me hungrily.

I've fallen into a trap from which I cannot escape. Of course I like you, Jesse! It's impossible not to like you, maybe more... but you're going to hurt me, and I haven't recovered from the last time!

"I love you," he says softly to me, breathing it into my soul before kissing and moving his mouth all over my face and neck.

I can't take much more of this!

"You're going to hurt me," I say, crying.

"Never."

"Yes, you will. You say you love me, and I say that was too fast. You don't know your own feelings, and one day you'll figure them out and realize you never loved me. And by that time, I'll have fallen in love with you only for you to hurt me when you break up with me."

"No, Marie! No! I'd never do that."

"I want to believe you."

"Because you feel something for me."

"Yes. Okay? Yes! But -"

He stops my continued fretting when his mouth triumphantly attacks mine.

When he finally comes up for air, he says, "We are far beyond the boundaries of friendship, Marie. It's too late. It was too late from the second I first laid eyes on you."

# Chapter 10: Leftovers

### Erin

Bryce and I leave the restroom, and I work hard to keep my blush under control. My ears still manage to get a little red.

Bryce finds me a little notepad since I think I'll have trouble remembering orders otherwise. I feel like he makes a good boss. I've seen this side of him when he talks to Jones and Marie, but it's never been directed at me before. I feel very comfortable.

He leaves me alone to take a few orders. I screw up totally, but luckily, he'd been paying attention and knew what their order _really_ was supposed to be. I feel like I have a hard time paying attention because of my own embarrassment. Bryce tries to teach me that I need to talk louder so customers can hear what I wrote (and correct me).

While he continues to think of things to teach me, three women walk towards the stairs. Bryce turns his head and quickly snaps it back to me. "Um, Erin?"

"Yeah?"

"After I hung up with Jesse, he sent me a warning text."

"He's mad at you?"

"No. He ran into some old... um..."

"Bryce!" I hear from one of the women as she prances up to my boyfriend and wraps her arms around his neck in a very familiar way. Then she has the nerve to try to kiss him right in front of me!

"Whoa, Sarah," he says with an uncomfortable laugh as he pushes her back a little.

_He knows her name,_ I think with an internal growl.

Another blonde walks up while Bryce pulls this Sarah's arms off him, and she says, "I saw Jesse on the beach yesterday, but he was in a hurry. Then Sarah and I decided to visit the spa and get the works."

"So," Sarah speaks up, "what time do you," she giggles, "get off?" Then she looks like she _finally_ catches on that Bryce doesn't want her all over him.

"Hey you," A third woman barks to me. "Get me a dry martini." She gives Bryce a pointed look as if to say 'don't you train your employees better than that?'

"Sorry, Sarah. I'm busy," Bryce says. Then he says to my back as I head to the bar to fill the bitch's order, "Erin, wait. I'll get the drink."

"Aw, let your waitress get it. I wanna catch up on old times," Sarah croons behind me, and I want to claw her eyes out. She keeps managing to touch Bryce in some way like she's possessive of her boy toy.

"That's my girlfriend, Sarah."

She's quiet for three seconds before she asks, "Since when do you date your waitresses?"

"She's only covering temporarily, not that it's any of your business," he nearly snaps at her while I quietly tell Jones to fix the martini he already has started. The brunette rolls her eyes and walks over to get the drink from Jones herself.

"First Jesse, now you?" the other blonde says sadly. "Where on earth is a girl supposed to go to have a good time anymore?"

I stand at the bar, fidgeting, while the mean brunette stares at me.

"I'm sorry, um... Amber?" he says and asks like he hopes he got the name right.

He remembers their names.

"You'll just have to look elsewhere," he finishes, and I hear him walk towards me.

He wordlessly takes my hand and leads me down to the lower seating area.

"I'd never pictured him with someone that timid," one of them says.

"I'd never hire someone like her."

I'm pretty sure the brunette said the last one.

I hear Jones work on entertaining the girls after another one of them laughs loudly and says, "He acts like he needs to explain it to her... like she doesn't even know!"

"I'm sorry," Bryce says and traps me in his arms while the women's cruel words slash at me. "I should've told you the second Jesse sent the leftovers text."

"The what?" I ask while I allow him to hold me. I'm not hugging him back.

"It's easy to figure out. What do you do with an old meal that you don't finish? You put it in the fridge for later. Then, maybe, you take it out again. Leftovers."

I groan as I get it.

"I didn't ask who, and I hoped that whoever it was would leave me alone. Guess not."

"Jesse didn't tell her?"

"I guess he didn't; I don't know." He touches my face. "Erin," he says, trying to get my attention, "I _hope_ you realize they mean nothing to me."

"You must've been cruel."

"What? No, they knew it was all for fun. They're hoping to get it again, and they're not."

"For fun. Was it fun?"

"Um..."

"Aw, you can tell me," I say deviously.

"Erin..."

"So it was fun to fuck random girls like animals. So, how? You took two, or did Jesse? Or was it some crazy orgy?"

"Huh? I don't know who the brunette is."

"That's hardly the point," I glare. "Tell me what happened."

He pauses for half a minute before he shrugs. "Remember, you asked," he says sternly, refusing to let go of me no matter how I now try to wiggle free. "The four of us went to Jesse's. We had fun, got them drunk, and played that game I told you about. Then Jesse took Amber, and I had Sarah."

"How many times?" I ask masochistically.

"Why do you want to know this?"

"Answer the question!"

"That night or total?" he asks. "Truth is I lost count."

I want to scream. I want to throw an absolute temper tantrum, but I don't want to give those women the satisfaction. As it is, I do everything I can to push and kick Bryce to try to gain my freedom.

"Stop it right now or I swear I will pin you to the ground in three seconds," Bryce growls low and quiet to me as he slightly lifts me off the ground.

"I don't even know you!"

"Yes, you do. You knew how I was. And remember I said was."

"It's different to be told than see it right before my eyes."

"Yes, I imagine so. Please don't say you don't know me because you do. _They_ didn't. All that Bryce wanted was a no-strings-attached fuck. That was me in hiding. _You_ made me want to stop that."

I still push against him even though I've stopped trying to beat him up. My resistance must make him panic a little because he begs, "Please, Erin! You and Adele mean the world to me! Ignore them."

A mass of screeching giggles carry over to us on the wind coming from the bar. Someone squeals Simon's name, and I doubt they mean Bryce's brother-in-law.

"Shit," Bryce growls. "To be continued. I'm not finished with you, Erin."

"Is that?" I hear Simon's voice now.

"Yes. Please don't leave." He gives me an intense pleading look from above the rims of his sunglasses, and I nod my head, meaning I'll stay. He lets go of me and makes his way back to the bar proper.

"Bryce!" Simon says warmly like he's greeting an old friend.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Simon?!" Bryce barks.

"Language, Bryce. There are ladies present," Simon sneers. I've walked over to them, so he points his beady, little eyes in my direction and asks, "Got your girlfriend waitressing, huh? And I thought, what's your name, sweetheart?"

"Amber."

"I thought Amber here was telling a little lie. I thought to myself 'no way would Bryce have Erin working for him since he has that unspoken, _very_ unspoken, rule about not dating the staff.' Looks like I was wrong!"

"What do you _want_?" Bryce growls to him.

"A word, if you please, sir," Simon asks and performs a mock bow.

I don't get his strange attitude. He's too playful for someone who's angry he got fired. He's up to something.

"Ladies, Jones, if you would excuse us," Simon says as he winks at me. I glare back to his leer, feeling exposed in my crop top.

As Bryce and Simon walk down the stairs to have a private conversation, I hear the brunette say, "So, you don't normally work here. That explains a lot."

_Why should it even matter to you?!_ I think loudly in my head, my thoughts braver than my actions. As it is, I stand here mutely and take her insult.

Jones comes to my defense. "I think Erin is doing a fine job considering she's never done this before and this is her first day."

The one he called Sarah walks up to me and asks, "What's so special about _you_ anyway?"

"I bet I can guess," Amber says. "Look at her. She's soft-spoken." Then, she says in a mockingly-dramatic voice, "She gives Bryce somebody to protect." Now, her voice is mean as she continues, "Cut the crap. Nobody believes that act."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I snap, goaded. _These 'leftovers' need to be thrown out. They've spoiled._

"She speaks!" Sarah gasps in pretend surprise.

"You wanted to know what Bryce sees in me, right?" I ask in a sassy tone. Then, I don't wait for her to answer, "He sees someone who's been through a little of what he's been through, but you probably have no idea what I'm talking about because why would he mention anything about his life to some slut that he picked up? Believe me, you're only good for one thing, and you're not getting that from him anymore."

Jones has to quickly intervene to keep the brunette from jumping me. The two blondes stand there, looking at me like gaping fish.

Encouraged, I continue, "And for that matter, Jesse too. They both want you to leave them alone."

Simon and Bryce's argument gets drowned out by the brunette woman yelling, "Let me at her! I'll take care of that smart-ass mouth of hers!"

"I don't think so," Jones says, pushing me behind him.

Bryce comes running up the stairs, and while he helps Jones break up the almost-fight, he asks the women to leave.

I feel so embarrassed that I lost my temper like that. I want to go hide in the women's room.

"Hey!" Bryce calls out to me as he runs over to me from where he'd escorted the bitches to the sidewalk.

I hear the brunette say, "Doesn't matter. There are plenty of bars on this island. Ones _indoors_. It's too hot out here."

"But I like being outside here," Sarah says, acting like she's already over the scene she just left. "The scenery is so pretty."

"Let's go to the beach after we grab another cold drink. I think you need to calm down a little anyway, Diane," Amber says, and their conversation gets fainter the farther away they get.

"I'm sorry, Bryce. Maybe I'm simply not cut out for this," I say sadly.

"Hush," he says and places a finger over my lips to silence me while his other arm wraps around my waist. "Only tell me what you said to that woman to make her want to beat you up like that." He removes his finger but acts like he'll put it back at a moment's notice.

"I called her friends sluts," I say with a mild shrug. "They'd started insulting me, and I had as much of that as I could take."

He starts laughing quietly. In answer to my mild glare, he explains, "You are so cute when you're angry."

"Cute?!"

"Would you prefer funny?" He laughs again when he sees me get mad. "I didn't think so."

"I'm sorry," I say, my mood taking a downturn again.

"Don't be. _I'm_ sorry I left you to them like that, but I figured the last thing I needed was for what's going on with Simon to be broadcast to everyone."

"I don't think I can do this."

He looks at me for about a minute before he says quietly, "I think you can."

"That's not what you said a few hours ago."

He shrugs. "I was wrong. ... Although, you are still a huge distraction."

Bryce grins when I can't help but blush, thinking of earlier.

He starts talking again. "I hate to do this, but I have to talk to Desmond for a little while. I have faith you and Jones can hold the place down while I have to go next door."

I sigh. "Alright, I guess."

He lets go of me, turns around to tell Jones about having to go next door, and then walks past me to head for the side stairs.

Without warning, he spins around, takes a step towards me, pulls me to him, and kisses me. It's another 'Bryce kiss,' and it's not long before we're making out right here for anyone to see.

He also apparently is a little bothered by our open display because he says in a determined voice, "I'm definitely getting an office in the new bar. There's only so much you can do in a bathroom."

Oh, so he wasn't bothered by that. He wants to do more.

Bryce reaches down and grabs my ass before lightly pecking me on the lips, grinning, and turning to leave.

### Marie

"This is too fast," I say while he moves down to kiss my neck.

He makes a whining noise. "How?"

"I still haven't dumped my shit."

He exhales in a huff, and goosebumps pop up on my arms. "I am so sorry I talked to you like that," he says, lifting his head to look me in the eyes. "I want to help."

"You are."

"But this is too fast," he states his question, and I nod. "Sooooo... then tell me what isn't too fast."

I cover my face with my hands. He's so intense!

He lightly kisses the backs of my hands. "Is this too fast? Me just simply kissing you?"

"Yes," I say from behind my hands.

"Do you want me to stop?"

I take a shaky breath, move my hands, and answer, "No."

I don't know what comes over me, but I contradict myself when I suddenly attack him, yanking his face to mine while meeting him halfway at the same time. I can feel him tense up as he holds back, probably worried I'll want to stop after he gets into it.

"I don't know _what_ I want," I get out when I pull back a little. I feel like I have a tiger by the tail, and any minute now, it'll attack. It's the look in his eyes that gives me this feeling, making me feel excited and afraid at the same time.

His tongue darts out for a few seconds to just barely lick his lips before he says, "I know what _I_ want."

Just like last night, he kisses me unmercifully. The difference is that this isn't a 'damn, I missed you' kiss. This is an 'I want you. Now' kiss.

He somehow lifts me to adjust us so that he lays himself on top of me. While he kisses me, he takes off his tie and unbuttons his shirt a little.

_No, take the whole damn thing off, Jesse!_ I scream inside my head. He undoes the fastenings of my overalls instead of finishing with his shirt.

I fumble around, trying to find his buttons, and he groans while he grabs my hands and holds them above my head easily in one of his large hands. His free hand works at pulling down my overalls to my waist. The entire time, his mouth never leaves mine.

However, mine breaks from his when I gasp because of what he does next. Somehow, he managed to part my legs and get himself between them, not hurting my knee. Then he placed his hips between my thighs and started slowly moving against me.

Armand did this to me once, but it didn't feel like _this_. This sends me a very clear message that Jesse certainly knows what he's doing. Message? More of a promise.

I'm not wearing a bra, so when he slips his free hand up under my shirt, he groans with pleasure at his discovery.

"Shit. Marie!" he exclaims as he frees my hands so he can use both of his to almost roughly pull my shirt over my head. Within seconds, he moves himself down and starts suckling me.

My head starts to clear when his hips leave mine, but he quickly brings his hand between my legs and continues to pleasure me that way.

I cry out a little in reaction to his very skilled hand's movements. Somewhere along the way, I have fisted my hands in his hair. I make the strangest noises while I squirm beneath him, still unable to accept that this is really happening.

"Fast," I whisper.

"You want faster, baby?" he asks in his deeper, more seductive voice.

"Too fast."

"Slow it down?" he asks, and his fingers slow down to a crawl.

I'm doing it. I'm teasing him again. He thinks this is headed towards sex. The sooner I stop him, the better.

"I'm sorry," I cry through my arousal-fogged brain. "This is incredibly too fast! I only wanted to kiss you."

Jesse's eyes start to slowly clear after his hand stops. Then, this look I can't really interpret crosses his face. I can't decide if it's fear or horror or sadness.

"I did it again," he whispers, almost like he talks to himself. His voice sounds like someone stabbed him. Louder, he says, "I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot! There we were talking about not going too fast, and I get carried away." He sits up, getting off me with this 'well, shit' look on his face.

"No. It's my fault," I say sadly.

"No, it isn't! All you did was fucking kiss me! And there I go doing what I apparently do best! Just being me!" he yells. To my shocked expression, he says quickly, "I'd better go."

He grabs his tie and puts it in his pocket. I watch in numb shock as he gathers up the rented movies, including the one in the DVD player, and turns to face me again.

His eyes hungrily rake my exposed top before he closes them. Slowly, he says, "I'm... going... home. I can't stay here. You're right. If you don't want things to go that fast then I can't trust myself."

While he has his eyes closed, I quietly put my shirt back on.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, and he angrily opens his eyes.

"Would you please stop being fucking sorry?" he snaps.

I curl up into a ball except for my hurt knee, trying not to cry. I close my eyes really tight to keep it from happening. _I can't do anything right._

"No," he says as I hear him cross the living room. He tosses the DVDs on the coffee table before he sits next to me and says, "Don't." His arms wrap around me and pull me across his lap.

I feel like such a fool, a child. Sitting in his lap doesn't help that, but I don't fight him off.

He leans forward a little and turns off the lamp before adjusting us so that I'm curled up into his reclining form.

"I thought you were leaving."

"Only if you really want me to leave, but I really want to stay. I can't leave you like this. I've made you cry too many times in the past twenty-four hours."

"But you said you can't trust yourself."

"I more can't leave you in this state."

"What state?"

"You're crumbling. I can't... handle that." There's a trace of a smile in his voice.

I lightly hit him for his mimicking of me, and he chuckles softly.

"That's better," he says and relaxes a little more into the sofa after kissing my hair.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Jesse. I don't mean to be like this. I also don't mean to cry this much."

"Be like what?"

"Hot one minute; cold the next."

"Um... I guess I can decide to see it as a good thing those hot moments are there at all. I just get carried away." He takes a deep breath. "You might not understand, but I'm used to taking things _very_ fast. And... hm." He stops for a second like he has a new thought. "And those relationships didn't work like I wanted some of them to. This is... different."

I curl into him and think about how Jesse is everything I liked about my past boyfriends rolled into one. At least... what I've met of him.

After a long while, he asks, "Are you asleep?"

"Yes," I answer cheekily to his small laugh.

"I need to, and I'm sorry I need to, define what we have here for my sanity's sake."

"We're not just friends," I admit.

"No, we're not," he agrees. "Don't laugh, but I feel like... like I'm back in high school or something with you."

"Because I'm younger?" I'm eighteen, and I'm pretty sure Jesse is over twenty-five.

"No, that's not it. I haven't quite figured it out, but that's not it," he says. I stay quiet, so he continues, "I want... I want you to be my girlfriend, Marie. I know you're not ready for that because of those three assholes, but I was wondering if, like we were in high school, if we could try for something really simple. It would be very hard for me to do, but I think it's the best compromise I can come up with."

"Simple?" I ask.

"Yeah, simple. I get to be with you, and you don't constantly feel pressured or overwhelmed or something."

I want to cheer. _Yes! That's what I want!_ I want Jesse around. I want his silly grin wiping away all the bad things... bad things I've carried alone all my life. I won't one-hundred percent trust him right away, but I have a good feeling about this! As long as he doesn't push too hard for intimacy, and I think that's what he means by 'simple.' _He's not playing me. A player would_ never _ask for this._

"Would that be something you could handle?" he asks, sounding unsure of himself.

"Yes," I say quickly and kiss his happily-surprised expression.

When I don't back off from the kiss, his hands reach up to hold my face and the back of my head.

My >>boyfriend<< pulls back to whisper, "Yes. This will be a challenge. And Marie?"

"Mm?"

"I'm not the only one who's a good kisser."

_He did it again,_ I think as butterflies take over my insides. Jesse really knows exactly what to say to take my breath away.

# Chapter 11: Good Behavior

### Ginger

My phone rings. _Desmond._

He warned me he'd be busy over the past few days with a case, and I haven't heard from him since.

"Hey, stranger," I say when I pick up.

"And I'm sorry for that too," he says.

"I know," I say. Then I grin. "Maybe you can find some way to make it up to me." I want to play. I'd gotten used to 'getting it' on a somewhat-regular basis the past few weeks, and we're going into a drought if I don't do something about it.

He makes the groaning/growling sound like he's aggravated and says, "I can't yet." I scowl, and he continues, "Please don't get mad, but I need a book."

"Are you," _fucking_ "kidding me?!"

"I asked you not to get mad."

"Get your secretary to pick it up because I _am_ mad now," I growl.

"Ginger..." he begs.

Then I get an idea. I liked the begging. I relent and ask him what he needs. Then I tell him I'll bring it by in a few hours.

Half an hour later, I close the library and head home to change my undergarments. Then, I decide to change into another dress as well, simple but one that will surely torture him. I'm all about torture this evening.

I smile sweetly at Patricia as I walk past her to knock on Desmond's office door.

I have a moment of surprise when I see him get up to answer it. I'd expected him to just yell 'it's open.' His eyes rake me from head to toe (as they should), and I hand him the book. He swallows hard and thanks me.

After Patricia leaves, I decide to sit and wait for a little while. Sure enough, the client... I'm surprised to see it's Bryce... walks out, leaving the office door open. I blush scarlet to Bryce's smirk as he walks past me. Desmond still sits in his office with his door open, unaware I'm out here.

I loudly turn a few pages of the magazine I'm not reading, and I see his head pop up out of the corner of my eye to look my way. I slowly cross my legs the other way.

"Ginger?" he asks, getting up out of his office chair.

"Who else?" I snap quietly and slap the magazine on the table.

"What are you still doing here?"

I stand up. "Oh? Not an 'I'm glad you're still here?' or a 'What can I do for you this evening?' or something like that?"

"That's what I meant," he tries to explain. Then, he goes ahead and asks, "What can I do for you this evening?"

_Perfect,_ I think as I slowly saunter over to him.

"Well, for starters, this," I answer and kiss him.

His response is immediate as he wildly clutches at my dress like he'd love to rip it from my body. He groans, and his goatee scratches my throat as he says, "Please tell me you did _not_ wear this dress to work today."

I shrug. "What if I did?"

He lets out an adorably-shaky exhale and almost whines, "Ginger... I have to work on this case."

Guessing, I say, "I'm sure Bryce will forgive you one evening." I feel since he's pressed against me how hard he already is. "But if you really want me to go..." He gets an iron grip on me. I can tell he's changed his mind. "Or do you want me to stay?"

"You're not going anywhere," he growls and takes control of my mouth.

I slowly undo his tie and a few buttons on his shirt while he works on the zipper at my back. When I think he's gotten it to where I can handle the rest, I say harshly, "Stop!"

He pulls back in surprise. "What?"

"You have been driving me crazy these few past days, and I'm not so sure I want to give you what you want."

"You want it too; don't lie."

"Oh, sure I do, but I want something else even more."

"What?" he asks, curious.

I push his jacket off him, pull his tie off his shoulders, and walk around him, running a finger slowly down his arm. Then I grab one wrist and the other and use his necktie to bind his wrists together behind his back. He doesn't try to stop me. Instead, his breathing becomes fast and shallow.

I walk back around to stand in front of him and say, "I want to drive you as crazy as I've been going these past few days." Then I press my body against him and kiss him while he eagerly kisses me back, already testing the strength of my knotting.

"Where did you learn to tie knots?" he asks.

I grin and decide to answer his question. "From a sailor." Instant jealousy flashes through his green eyes. I gently place a single finger over his lips in a wordless command to hush about it. The jealous look gets replaced by a hungry one when he surprises me by opening his mouth and sucking my finger into it. I like the feel of his coarse tongue on the pads of my finger.

He takes a step towards me, and I back up a few while he holds my gaze. Then he pins me to the wall with his hips and attacks my lips with his.

I let out a groan when he parts my lips with his tongue and grinds his hips against me. Even though _he's_ the one bound, I have lost the upper hand for the moment.

My hands reach up into his hair while he tests the strength of the knots again. I jerk his head back and state, "You want me."

"Yes, I fucking do," he growls.

Gotcha.

I lightly slap him on the cheek. "Such language."

The words quickly leave his mouth while he says, "There's more where that came from. Untie me, Ginger."

"No."

"I want that dress off of you."

"Too bad."

He moves to bend down to get his hands in front of him.

"Oh no you don't!" I warn. "You do that and your punishment will only get worse."

"I'm already being punished," he argues.

"The other punishment you really won't like."

"The only thing I'd _like_ right now is to get my hands on that skin _under_ the dress."

"No," I snap and get out from between him and the wall. "Sit here." I point to a chair in his lobby as I make my way over to it.

"I want you on my desk," he states defiantly.

"No," I say again. "Sit. Down."

Glaring at me, he does as I say. I take the tail end of his tie and secure it to the back of the chair.

"Struggle too hard and you'll break your furniture," I point out, standing behind him and running my hands down his chest. When I've gotten far enough, he turns his head and licks my chest.

I jump back in surprise to his victorious grin. I have to have something to beat that.

"And to think. I was going to pleasure you," I say, faking a pout.

"Nothing's stopping you," he points out.

I stand quietly and stare at him, pretending to ponder my decision. Then, I walk over and lightly run my fingertips across his face and say, "That would be a reward. You sat like I asked, but then you had to go and take liberties that weren't given to you." He sits silently and breathes deeply while I continue. "Now I have to decide something else instead."

"Please, Ginger. I apologize," he begs quietly.

"No no. You're far too rebellious to deserve that," I say, and he looks like he's losing the battle over his self-control. "Although," I continue, "you _do_ want this dress off, correct?"

"Yes," he answers emphatically and squirms a little. "I'll remove it with my teeth if you let me."

"That won't be necessary," I say with a smile, turn my back to him, and slowly, very slowly, unzip my dress. I hear him breathing heavily, so I turn a little to check. Smiling at him over my shoulder, I flip the dress off to stop at my elbows. Now he sees the corset-style lingerie I wear... the top of it anyway. His pupils dilate.

"More?" I ask sweetly.

"Yes," he cries pitifully. He's completely absorbed into the situation surrounding us, and I love it when he gets like this.

"Yes what?" I ask, playing my part.

"Yes, please," he whines.

"Good boy." I smile and let the dress fall to the floor.

He struggles against his bonds while I slowly walk over to him.

"You want to touch me, don't you, Desmond?" I ask quietly.

"Yes. Please," he replies earnestly.

I make a tsk-tsk noise and say, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

He lets out a tortured exhale and leans back while closing his eyes.

"I can let you watch me touch _myself_ , however," I say and revel in the shocked expression he suddenly wears. "Where would you like me to touch myself?"

"Your breasts," he answers in a groan.

"Like this?" I ask, fondling myself in a way like I'm offering my breasts to him.

"Yes," he gasps and weakly struggles a little more.

I stand with my legs apart and play with my breasts some more as I say, "Oh, this feels _so_ good, Desmond." I roll my head around on my shoulders and lick my lips. He watches me with his mouth hanging open like he forgot to close it.

"I want you," he says quietly.

"I know you do," I say, and he looks like he didn't think he'd said that aloud. Then I get another idea. "Where to you want me, Desmond?"

"My desk. I want to fuck you hard on my desk."

I smile, knowing we have as of yet to fulfill that little fantasy of his. "Perhaps some other time." I take a step towards him and lean over to kiss him. He eagerly shoves his tongue as far into my mouth as he can. Then I allow him to kiss my neck and breasts for a few moments. He moans with pleasure.

The next moan gets quickly chased by a small whine when I lift off him. He looks up at me pleadingly.

"Shall I take this off as well?" I ask, smiling and pointing to my top.

"Oh, yes. Then let me kiss you," he begs.

"I call the shots here," I say chidingly while I remove my top very close, but out of reach, to his face.

The man lets out a pitiful cry, looking to be almost in tears.

"Poor baby," I croon, cupping his cheek.

"Ginger, please," he whispers.

I finish unbuttoning his shirt and rake my nails lightly across his slightly-furry chest and let my fingers trail down the middle of his stomach. His eyes close, and his breathing comes out in little shaky puffs. I gently move my hand to feel the hard bulge between his thighs. He lets out a small whine and throws his head back, trying to push himself farther into my hand.

"Do you want to touch me, Desmond?" I whisper into his ear while continuing to fondle him too lightly. If he wanted to, more correctly if he _could_ , he could easily reach my chest with his mouth, but he's too busy going out of his mind.

He groans a wordless response.

"Well, do you?" I tease.

"Ginger, please," he manages to get out.

"You may touch me then," I say cruelly.

He struggles a little.

"Oh no. Not with your hands," I point out. I remove his pants and shoes. Then I turn around and lightly sit in his lap.

I lean back against him and rock my ass against his cock. I use the armrests of the chair to support most of my weight while I gyrate on top of him. He pushes up against me, hoping for more friction. A long groan escapes him while I continue to too-lightly rub him.

I say breathlessly, "I'm so turned on right now, Desmond."

"Please," he begs, and I part his legs and deposit my ass between them, backing up to press into him.

"I need some satisfaction," I breathe.

"Then let me give it to you," he pleads and starts licking the backs of my shoulders where I've lain back onto his chest.

"Hm, not this time," I say. "But you can watch." I move my hand down between my legs and inside my panties.

"Oh god," he whimpers and looks down over my shoulder as I tilt my hips up and pleasure myself.

His groans match mine as I feel doubly turned on that he's watching me. He rocks his hips into my backside while I increase my own tempo.

"I want that," he pants. Then his tongue roves around my neck and shoulders like he's desperate to have it elsewhere.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I arch my back and dig my fingers inside me at a crazy pace. Desmond moans and licks me wherever he can reach while I start to cry out as my pleasure builds.

"Oh, Ginger," he breathes, and my hips jerk forward as I bring myself to a climax. Stars pop before my eyes from the force of it.

Then I slump back against him and close my eyes for a while, catching my breath.

"If you would please," Desmond asks after a suitable amount of time has passed, "madam, untie me now."

I let out a light, higher-pitched 'hm' sound and turn to curl up into a ball in front of him, using his shoulder as a pillow. "I want to rest a minute or so." _I like my Desmond._

He cranes his head down and kisses me lovingly. The tender emotion takes me by surprise, and I find myself holding his face and kissing him back. I also find myself wanting to untie him early.

He whispers, "Please untie me, Ginger." Then he kisses the tip of my nose.

I nod silently, still shocked a little from his emotions, and get up to untie him. Once his wrists are freed, he flexes his hands and stretches a little before reaching out for me and pulling me into his lap again.

Once I'm there, he kisses me in a desperate manner, holding my head firmly in place.

"A sailor?" he asks.

"Nothing but a small fling," I answer.

"Very. Good. Teacher," he says, and I can't help but smile. "I tried everything I could think of."

I sigh, a little sleepy, and lay my head on his chest.

"Tired?" he asks me quietly while running his fingers through my hair.

I nod and yawn to prove it.

"That's too bad," he says cryptically.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to let you sleep tonight," he growls and lifts me into his arms while carrying me into his office.

He quickly stands me to my feet before jerking my panties to the floor. Then he orders me to step out of them, and I do. Once that's accomplished, he spins me around to where I'm facing his desk.

A trace amount of fear courses through me as he says into my ear, "Put your hands on the desk and keep them there." I let out a shaky breath, and he growls, "Now."

I do so, and his hands rove all over me like this is the first time he's ever done it. Every touch, he acts like he's claiming me.

"I wasn't allowed to touch you. Shit, woman, you drove me insane!" He pinches my nipples hard. I cry out, and my hands fly up to his. He removes his even more quickly, and my ass is met with a resounding smack when he spanks me.

"I said hands on the desk!"

"I couldn't help it!" I gasp.

"I know," he states, and I know he's grinning triumphantly.

He steps away from me, and I can feel him looking at me as I hear what I guess is him removing the rest of his clothes.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, Ginger," he says soft and low, and I shudder when he traces a single finger down my spine to my backside. Then he proceeds to push it into my vagina.

I gasp before I hear him say, "And so wet." He moves his middle finger in to join with the other one as he slowly teases me. "I wanted to do this to you, and you denied me."

"You liked watching me; admit it," I say defiantly, trying to keep my eyes from crossing.

He laughs a little, not stopping his fingers, and says, "Yes. I did." After a short pause, he says, "And I wanted this." He suddenly removes his fingers to be replaced by his tongue.

I jump in surprise and move to grab his head. He smacks my behind again, the message clear. I whimper as I dutifully place my hand back on the desk, now holding on for dear life as Desmond's tongue drives me wild.

Just as I'm about to climax, he stops. "Noooo!" I cry out, frustrated.

"Yes," he replies. "Welcome to my pain." His hands playfully explore me again as I feel his hard erection press against my backside.

"Good girl. You didn't try to take care of yourself. I'd actually hoped to spank you again." His hand moves around to my front and dips down to masturbate me.

I cry out as insane pleasure courses through me with each circle of his fingers. I remain so sensitive from earlier, and it's all I can do to remain standing.

He slaps my butt again with his free hand before pressing his cock against me once more. I hadn't realized I'd moved, but I had.

The pleasure builds, and I'm going to break.

"Desmond, please!" I cry out, and then he stops.

Furious, I spin around and slap him across the face. His head snaps back to meet an enraged look in my eyes.

Suddenly, he grabs the back of my head and shoves his tongue down my throat. I try to fight him off, but he successfully uses his superior strength to overpower me, trapping my arms at my sides.

He breaks the kiss, spins me around, pushes my shoulders forward, and swiftly starts pounding himself into me. I'm not given a chance to recover as he keeps a breakneck tempo, fucking me hard.

"You feel so damn good, Ginger," he says while continuing with his thrusts. "By the way, you'll need a morning-after pill since I hadn't counted on this."

_He's not using a condom!_ I think in a panic and try to get away. I have several in my purse.

"You're not going anywhere," he growls.

"I have condoms!"

"I don't want them," he says and slows down his tempo by half but doubles his force.

Like a ticking secondhand, his tempo never falters.

"I like watching you come, Ginger," he says in between thrusts. "And I'll let you this time."

"Please, Desmond," I beg while his hand moves around to masturbate me once again. His movements change to cooperate with his fingers while he holds me steadily with one arm.

Suddenly, he grabs my hips as an earth-shattering orgasm hits me with the force of a locomotive. He rocks himself inside me while I try to recover standing up.

"Now," he says simply and starts slapping his body into mine in very wet thrusts. He almost holds me up while I lay my upper torso upon his desk. "Finally," he breathes, and I see him look down at me out of the corner of my eye. "Fuck, yes," he hisses as I feel, yet again, that tightening sensation between my upper thighs and lower belly. I let out a desperate whine, knowing this next orgasm will surely tear me in two. Desmond shows no mercy as he drives us forward to the brink and over it as we climax simultaneously.

Sometime later, I find myself sitting curled up in his lap while he sits in his office chair.

"You're amazing, Ginger," he breathes down to me, and I can't respond. "I will never want anyone else."

I think of something to say. "Even though I slapped you across the face?"

He laughs. " _Because_ you slapped me across the face." He laughs again, and I like the sound of it. I hear his heart beat faster just before he asks, "Will you marry me?"

I freeze in shock as a life with Desmond stretches out before my mind's eye. It doesn't look smooth and easy, but then I realize I'd quickly grow bored if it was.

I smile, knowing I'm making the right decision when I answer, "Yes."

# Chapter 12: Barely In Control

### Jesse

_Marie is my girlfriend!_ I think happily before I kiss her.

I haven't had an actual girlfriend in years. In my own mind, Jennifer was, but it turned out she wasn't thinking the same thing. Ginger and I almost dated... same thing with Lynne, but those died before they started.

I'm still a little shocked Ginger and Desmond got together. I guess insanity loves company. Bryce says he wasn't surprised since he'd catch looks from one to the other. How did he see that and not me?

Still, good that they're together. It sucks to be alone.

And I'm not alone anymore.

I thread my hands into her hair. The way she has it fixed prevents me from running them through it, so I work on undoing it while my lips never leave her mouth.

_Let me stay,_ I tell her telepathically while I continue to leisurely kiss her mouth. _She doesn't want to move fast. Kissing her slowly and undoing her hair isn't fast._

Wait. She said kissing was too fast.

"Is kissing still too fast?" I ask.

"No. I don't know why I said yes to that. Maybe because of it leading to everything else with you," she says and then acts like she wants me to stop talking.

Finally, I get her hair down, and I sigh with relief when I pull my fingers through it.

Leading to everything else.

Doing what I do best, I work on testing the limits she wants to place upon me. I move my hand from her hair to her shoulder down her side.

_She let me do it before_ , I think as I slip my hand under her shirt.

Before I can get my hand to her breast, she reaches up to stop it. I make what I hope is a cute whine while she holds my hand.

"That's too fast?" I ask.

"Yes."

"But you let me before."

"It went too far before."

"You liked it though," I point out gently and start kissing her neck. "It felt good, right?" I ask, sounding unsure of myself on purpose. I work my hand free and stroke her face.

"Yes, but I wasn't prepared for it."

"That's part of what makes it good." I deliberately move my hand to the inside of her thigh and start moving it up.

"Jesse..." she warns.

"I like making you feel good," I say seductively while I slowly move my hand northward.

"You're pushing me."

Crap.

I freeze my hand where it is and close my eyes to take a deep breath. "I would love to run my tongue where my hand is now, but I'm positive that's going too far."

"Definitely not simple," she says breathlessly. I have to be seriously turning her on.

I lightly squeeze her thigh and run my thumb back and forth, watching her expression.

_I have to stop. I have to stop. I have to stop,_ I think in rapid succession.

"You have no idea how hard it is for me to move slow," I whisper.

"I think I do," she whispers back. I still haven't moved my hand, and I know it's driving her insane.

"If you'd let me, I could go ape-shit crazy, and I can _guarantee_ you'll like it."

Her breathing hitches a couple of times, and I inch my hand higher.

"That's not something simple," she says quietly, and I close my eyes real tight.

This is so fucking hard! Yes, it's fucking hard.

But this is how it has to be with her.

"Did one of them do something bad to you? Did they force you to do something you didn't want to do?" I ask, trying to get to the bottom of why she wants to take it so slow.

"No... other than trying to guilt me into sex, no," she answers, probably wondering where those questions came from.

_Depending on how bad the guilt trip was, that might be a clue. I need to be better than_ that _. I fucking love her. I'd love to show her how much in my favorite way, but maybe stopping myself now will pay off later. Maybe stopping now can be a way to show her as well._

_It'd better. I'm going to go crazy._ I move my hand off her thigh, and she noticeably relaxes.

She curls into me again, and I want to scream from the boiling desire in my veins. I don't think I've ever had to work so hard at my self-control than right at this moment. Every second, I have to fight the urge to seduce her. I know I could do it too.

I lean her back a little and reach up to cup her face with my free hand.

Don't ruin it, Jesse.

She looks back at me sleepily while I run my fingers across her face. Her eyes close, and I kiss her lips once.

"Let me stay," I beg quietly.

She takes a breath and says, "I want you to, but only if you can control yourself."

"I'll figure it out," I say resolutely. Then I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom and gently place her on her bed.

She requests a minute to change into some pj's, so after I get her her nightshirt, I walk out of the room for a minute to take off my shirt, shoes, and socks.

I re-enter the room after knocking softly and getting permission to enter.

Wordlessly, I walk around to the other side of the bed and pull her into my arms after I lie down. After a few torturous hours, I finally fall asleep.

### Marie

I wake up to a large hand running up and down my hip and thigh. With every pass it makes, my nightshirt inches up to my waist.

My eyes open fully when Jesse's hand travels underneath my shirt to the dip in my waist. It pulls my hip towards him, putting me on my back. Warning bells sound the alarm just before Jesse crashes his lips into mine.

I hear myself whimper as his arms enfold me. I have no idea what time it is, but I can tell it's still dark outside.

Jesse groans before he says, "You're so fucking beautiful. Dammit! I have to..." He slides downward with another groan. "I have to..."

"Jesse?"

"...this," he finally finishes before he starts licking my hip where his hand had traveled earlier.

"Ha-a-a-a-a-a-ah." I make the strangest noise as his tongue circles around all over my hip and thigh. The area is already sensitive from his hand rubbing it earlier.

_This is so strange! Why do I like it so much?!_ I think as I think how he could do this _anywhere_ and it would feel as good.

He inches up my shirt and starts licking my stomach.

"You're going to lose control," I pant out.

"I'm already gone," he groans as I expect him to move northward to my breasts, but he surprises me by going south instead. He moves my uninjured leg, and that places his head square between my thighs.

I gasp as he moans simultaneously, trying to taste me through my panties.

"Ah! Jesse!" I cry out as I try to roll away to my side.

I swear he sounds just like a wild animal as he growls when his hands grab my hips and keep me in place.

The wild animal disappears as he begs, "Oh, Marie! I haven't had it in _so_ long! Please, Daddy only wants a little taste!" he begs, sounding like he's going out of his mind.

He's already gone. Now, I understand what he really meant.

My heart races out of control as Jesse moves way too fast for me, pulling my panties down. I can't get my arms to obey me because I'm caught up in his tongue's movements, so I have difficulty moving them down to stop him.

I manage it just as he'd started moving his tongue around the waistband of my panties while continuing to pull them off. I grab hold of the waistband and pull them back up.

He lets out a pitiful, heart-breaking cry when I succeed. He sounds like a man truly suffering.

"Marie, your boyfriend is a freak. Oh, if you'd only _let_ me, the things I could do to you," he moans into my hip socket.

"This isn't what I had in mind when I asked you to stay," I pant, flipping out over what he just said.

"I was doing _so_ good. Then, I woke up with a gorgeous woman in my arms," he says with his head still between my thighs. He moans. "I can't stand it! Please, Marie," he cries. Then he turns his head and starts licking the inside of my thigh.

My body screams at me to let him do anything he wants, but my mind is still in panic-mode.

"I'm starving for you," he groans into my thigh. "Please, let me pleasure you."

I cry out as his fingers start moving against me.

He whispers, "All you have to do... is not stop me... and I can make you feel _soooo_ good."

I toss my head back and forth, whimpering, wanting to give him what he wants but worried about how things will be afterward.

"Please don't fight me, Marie. I _want_ to do this for you."

For me?

_He knows so much. ...And I know nothing!_ I think and start really whimpering.

His hand stops, and he's up at my face, kissing my cheek.

"Waaaaay too much," I quietly cry out, desperately trying to catch my breath and gather my wits about me.

"I finally realized that, my love. Trust me, I'll still do it if you want me to... gladly... but not against your wishes," he says lovingly to me, continuing to gently kiss me everywhere.

"Are you back in control of yourself?" I ask, still panting.

"Barely," he says, and to prove it, he settles himself onto my hips, my legs still spread.

_Holy mother of fuck!_ I think, not giving myself time to be shocked at my internal language. _That can't be all him! It's not possible!_ Our underwear hides much less sensation than having our pants still on like earlier, and Jesse must've taken his pants off sometime while I slept.

"Barely in control, which means not really." He lets out a long sigh when his hips start moving against me. I cry out again, but this time it's more of a passionate plea for more.

It feels... so good.

"You like this," he states. "Don't you." There's the question.

I whimper, afraid to agree with him.

He whispers into my ear, "It's okay to like it, my love."

I can do nothing but pant because I have no idea what to say.

He sounds a little concerned now as he says, "Is this too much too? Do you want me to stop?"

Don't!

"No!" I cry out. "Yes, I like it. Don't stop!"

He takes in a large breath of air and lets it out in a moan as he speeds up. I cry out again, throwing my head back and forth.

"Don't fight it, Marie. Take it, baby. Embrace it. Dammit, I love you," Jesse breathes down to me. Then he kisses me to stop my head's movements. I moan into his mouth.

"Take it."

I'm not sure if it was spoken or my own thought, but I heed the advice.

Everything else dims as my whole focus is what Jesse does to me. His hips start moving in small circles, and I let out a high-pitched whine. The sound is so feminine that it surprises me for half a second before I'm hopelessly lost to sensation again.

I start sighing his name over and over again, hardly aware I'm doing it, but it has to be coming from somewhere.

"Come for me, Marie," he whispers down to me.

"What?" I ask breathlessly. Everything is starting to ball up.

"Come for me," he says a little louder, and I explode at the sound of his voice. Then I do it again as he moans my name.

### Jesse

I escape to Marie's shower. I need to wash myself off a little, but a simple napkin could've done that. However, I feel the need for burning-hot water.

What have I done?

Oh crap! Jesse, you idiot!

"Only if you can control yourself," she said! Only if you can control yourself!

I put my face in my hands.

I can't control myself.

I'm just as bad as the one or ones that pressured her for sex. Sure, I didn't go for sex exactly, but I pressured her to near her breaking point!

I hang my boxers up to dry after washing them off and wrap a towel around my waist.

I have to talk to Marie. Now. Even if she isn't realizing yet that I overdid it.

"Marie?" I ask when I walk into the bedroom.

_Holy shit!_ I mentally exclaim when I see she's removed her nightshirt. She's lying on her stomach, but I see the moonlight on her bare back. I thank God she kept her panties on.

I risk touching her to lightly shake her awake.

### Marie

There's stuff on my nightshirt. It's cold.

_Oh. From Jesse._ Mildly disgusted, I carefully remove the article of clothing. Then, reaching over on my nightstand, I get and take some pain medicine. Next, I roll over onto my stomach. I'm so tired. I can't even begin to think about what just happened.

The next thing I know, Jesse is shaking me awake. I turn around to look at what I can see of him in the moonlight before I remember I'm mostly-naked.

"Jesse?" I ask. He must've showered. I thought he'd only gotten up to use the restroom.

"Yeah," he says. Then he blurts out in an agonizing way, "Marie, I'm so sorry! I'm an asshole that can't control himself! I was wrong to pressure you like that especially after you'd mentioned how _they_ pressured you. I did no better! I wanted to be better than them, but I let myself get carried away and took advantage of you."

"What?" I ask sleepily. "Advantage? What advantage? Je ne comprends pas, Jesse. I don't understand," I finish.

"You were still groggy from sleep," he says sadly. He reminds me of a scolded puppy. "I used that."

"I said yes," I remind him.

"You said it under duress, and I took it like you'd said it in your right mind."

My hazy brain makes it difficult to think straight. I think my pain pills have started working. Plus, I'm _so_ tired!

_He's so fine,_ I think and reach out a hand to trace a single finger down the towel covering his leg while I lie here on my stomach. He lets out a shaky breath, and I smile from my sudden feeling of power.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warns in a very serious tone. Again, I have the tiger by its tail. I don't remove my hand fast enough, so he snatches it and places it on the bed. "Please accept my apology."

"I don't understand why you apologized," I want to run my fingers through his hair.

He looks at the bedside table. "How long ago did you last take a pain pill?"

"After you went to the bathroom."

"You have an empty stomach?"

"Oui. Of course I do. It's the middle of the night," I say and stretch like a cat... all except my knee.

He takes a deep breath and stands up to walk over and fumble around at my dresser.

"For the love of God, Marie. Put this on," he says and tosses me a shirt.

I find it funny which one he tossed. "This is the shirt from your store."

"Good. That means it's loose-fitting!" he snarls as he leaves the room.

He walks back in wearing only his pants. I sit up a little in bed and say in a mildly-scolding yet childish voice, "If you didn't want me taking off my shirt then you shouldn't have gotten it messy." I feel very justified by my statement in a silly way.

"Ah-but.... but you... Hm," he flounders, and I giggle. "You're not yourself."

"Says who?" I challenge, barely getting out the 'wh' sound. He looks adorable standing in my doorway and scratching the back of his head. "Why are you all the way over there?"

"It's safer over here," he points out. His tone is much too serious. Then, he tries again at his apology. "Marie, please forgive me for overdoing it. I can't live with myself otherwise."

"All you did was..." I pause and remember Jesse's agonized voice when his head was between my legs. I remember my feeling of panic and fear.

"But it's what I _wanted_ to do and tried to pressure you into that's what I really need to apologize for."

"Jesse, I can't think. I think I'm going to be ill." I put my hand on my forehead as the room spins a little.

In two steps, Jesse is at my side and carrying me in his arms to the bathroom. I hope he can handle the floor rocking back and forth the way it is.

He sits me next to the commode and brushes my hair out of my face.

"How many of those did you take?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Two."

"What?!"

"It said one to two on the label."

"Because that's for people that have an endurance to it or weigh more!" he lightly scolds.

"I don't feel well," I say. A few seconds later, I have to lean over and be sick in the commode.

Jesse reaches over and holds my hair out of my face.

I'm so embarrassed.

"Well, that'll help make it better," Jesse says soothingly while I sit back down on the cold floor. "I'll be right back," he says.

I lean back against the wall, wishing I could get this taste out of my mouth.

A little while later, Jesse walks back in with a small glass of orange juice. "Here," he says, and I gladly take it from him.

It makes me feel better and gets rid of the bad taste.

Once Jesse knows I'm feeling better, he picks me up off the floor and carries me over to the couch before settling me in his lap.

"You don't have to carry me everywhere, Jesse," I quietly point out.

"Hush, I like to," he says, encouraging me to rest my head on his chest.

I do, and I really like the safe, comforting feeling I have with being in his arms.

"Still feeling better?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes," I answer simply.

His hand reaches up and starts running through my hair. I feel sleepy, but I can't sleep. I feel like I'm in a semi-conscious state between awake and asleep. I feel warm. I feel loved. I feel content.

_This is coming from Jesse,_ I think as I fully rest my cheek on his furry chest. My skin feels like it's humming.

"Jesse?" I ask.

"Mm?"

"I forgive you if that's what you need to hear."

"Thank you," he breathes and holds me tighter. "I'm such an asshole."

"No, you're not," I argue and lightly kiss his chest.

"I said I wouldn't."

"It sounds to me like you need to forgive yourself," I say thoughtfully.

"I'm working on it," he mumbles.

"Don't be so hard to yourself."

"I can do better."

I stay quiet and think about what he might be thinking.

"I hope you're not thinking of changing yourself because I don't want you to," I warn.

"If I _don't_ change at least a little then I will only continue to push you too far."

"Maybe I need a _little_ pushing," I admit in a small voice.

"A little," he whispers like he's talking to himself, and there's a small tremor that goes through him. He takes a few deep breaths. He talks a tiny bit louder as he says, "That's not what you said a few hours ago. That's not what I said I'd do. That's not what you agreed to."

"Jesse..."

"No. When I asked you if they did something bad to you, you said they pressured you. I don't want to be like them."

After a few minutes, I say, "But a little pushing and too much pressure are different."

"I don't think I can only push a little!" he quietly snaps.

"You did already," I tell him.

He lets out an agonized huff before pulling me up off him and leaning over to kiss me hard. His demanding tongue shoots into my mouth and immediately forces mine to respond to it.

He pulls back and speaks while continuing to kiss my face and neck. "You want me... to not change. You want me to... push a little without pressuring a lot. ... Dear God, Marie! ... Do your realize how hard that is?!" Then he doesn't let me answer.

A whimper slips out of me unbidden. He's scaring me a little, but I'm also loving him kissing me this passionately. He responds to my whimper by backing off, acting like he'll stop.

No!

I quickly reach up and hold the back of his neck to me, begging him to keep going. He moans and throws himself back into the kiss as he runs his free hand over the humming skin of my thigh before reaching up under my shirt. Slowly, he moves his hand toward my breast, wordlessly telling me I can stop him if I want. I don't stop him.

He moans when his warm hand finally reaches its destination. Another moan escapes him when he starts kneading my breast while occasionally tweaking and rubbing his thumb across my nipple, driving me wild.

A desperate, wordless plea escapes me as my whole body feels as if it's awakening from a life-long coma.

"It's the medicine. You're not yourself," he says as he suddenly raises his head.

"Non, Jesse." I clear my throat. "You."

"I want to do very non-simple things to you, Marie. Mostly what I wanted to do before," he states with stunning sincerity.

I don't feel positive I understand him, but I let out a shaky breath anyway simply from the hungry look in his eyes.

"But I also don't want to pressure you," he finishes, looking like he's fighting himself.

The sky out the window shows the smallest amount of pink, indicating the sun plans to make an appearance in an hour or so.

"Has anyone ever done that to you before?" he asks, disrupting my distracted mind.

"I'm not positive what you mean," I admit, feeling stupid but bravely forging ahead anyway.

For a moment, he looks like he's trying to figure out how to word something before he finally says, "I want to do this..." His hand flies between my legs into my underwear before his fingers move against me. "...with my tongue," he finishes, his eyes closely watching my expression.

"You're right. That is _very_ not simple," I shakily agree, not moving his stopped hand.

His hand leaves my panties, and he leans down to kiss me tenderly.

_"Let him,"_ my inner voice shocks me.

He pulls back and I questioningly say, "Just not stop you." I'm shaking.

"That's all," he says kindly before kissing me once. "Marie, you don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured at all. I can live without it. It's not worth losing the chance to just hold you."

I stop him by placing my fingers over his lips.

"For that," I can hardly breathe, "...don't let me stop you."

His eyes zero in on mine, trying to judge my sincerity. I try my best to look like I meant what I said.

Without a word, he stands up and carries me to the bed. This time, I'm glad he carries me because I feel faint.

"I _will_ stop if you ask me to," he says seriously.

Both of his hands move down my sides as he calmly reaches for the hem of my shirt. Once it's removed, he goes back to kissing me.

"How's your knee?" he asks in a whisper.

"It's fine."

"Good," he says and moves to take my entire nipple into his mouth.

I'm utterly distracted by thinking about what he said he wanted to do that I wish he'd do it now and let me stop having this fear of the unknown going through me, but he appears to be slowly building to it.

I let out a whimper.

"Patience," he admonishes me quietly. My nipple is still wet from his mouth, and he unexpectedly blows cold air onto it.

I gasp and instinctively move away, but he holds onto me and prevents me from doing so. Then he moves to the other breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth and toying with it with his tongue.

Then the bastard blows on that one too.

"Jesse!" I squeak. I see his teeth flash a smile. I gasp and say, "You're laughing at me!"

"No, I'm not," he says. "I'm happy."

"Making me crazy makes you happy?!" I nearly snarl.

He immediately moves up to my face and says, "Yes, because I want you to want this. I want you practically begging me to do it. If I can't get you there then I won't do it because I'll know you weren't sincere."

That calms me down instantly, and he kisses me with languid passion.

"The store doesn't open 'til ten. I have hours," he says, running his fingers across my cheek.

The man got a green light and has decided to crawl across the intersection.

"Hours?" I nearly whine.

"Why? You ready for it now?" he asks right before moving at the speed of light, pulling down my panties a little, and circling his tongue on that sensitive spot and dipping down once.

I cry out from the surprise, and just as I can recover, he stops and smiles up at me.

"Yes, my love. Hours."

I wish I could find the nerve to tell him I want it now, but he's right. I'm a little too nervous.

"Hey, Marie," he pops back up to my face, "guess what?" He kisses me, and he tastes different. "You taste delicious," he finishes.

I am going to faint. Right now.

He watches my face for a second or two before crushing his lips on mine.

I'm too nervous. I want to cry. I don't want to feel nervous like this. You'd think we're about to actually have sex instead of what he wants to do to me. Why does he want to do this to me?

I ask him.

"Because I do. Because I love it. Because I want to hear your beautiful voice screaming my name as I make you feel pleasure you can't even comprehend," he answers me confidently.

"Oh," I answer in a small voice before he kisses me again.

His mouth travels down my neck while his hand moves up to my breast. He dips his head down after pushing my breast up a little with his hand so he can run his tongue along the swell. Then, he circles his tongue around while moving down to my belly before plunging it down into my bellybutton.

I jump in surprise, but he keeps a firm grip on my waist. Real firm. The longer he does it, the more sensitive the spot becomes, and I feel the sensation spread out all over my torso. His hands start massaging my upper hips, the tips of his fingers press into me as they slowly travel lower.

I let out a quick sigh, and he moves down again, having pulled my panties down the smallest bit. He groans and says my name before digging his tongue into my hip socket.

_Mon dieu!_ I think as I let out a noise of surprise. He holds me still as what he does feels so strange in a sort of ticklish way. Ticklish, but good.

I whimper and cry and struggle as much as my knee will let me, yet he doesn't stop!

"Jesse, please! I can't take it!" I earnestly beg.

He growls a little and doesn't stop.

"Please please please!" I beg again, and he answers me by pulling my panties down to my knees. I finally get to catch my breath as he lifts his head and carefully guides them past my sprained knee.

_I'm completely naked,_ I realize before I get distracted by the feather-light kisses on my sprained knee.

"Poor knee," Jesse says lovingly, his hand sneaking up and down my inner thigh while he very gently kisses it again. I'm suddenly reminded of a magician doing a sleight-of-hand to trick you into watching one thing while the other hand does something else. Jesse moves over to the other knee, now with one conveniently on either side of him.

He's much rougher with this one as he hungrily attacks it. Slowly, he makes his way down my inner thigh. I tense up from how close he is.

Suddenly, he's moved to the back of my thigh. Here also, it tickles a little in a strangely-pleasant way, and I jump and try to get away from him.

"No. No. No," he warns playfully. He lifts my leg up and moves under it to let his tongue play with the outside of it. As I try to twist away, his hand reaches up to grab my ass.

He moans as he works around my hip, my leg under him now. The hand on my butt starts massaging me, and I can feel his warm breath on my lower abdomen.

"I want it," he moans.

I'm startled by his tongue licking me once before he blows cold air on me. I cry out from the shock. While I try to catch my breath, he does it again. He doesn't give me time to catch my breath before he groans again and starts roving around with his tongue around the highest parts of my inner thigh.

It's driving me crazy! Why won't he just do it?!

I reach out and grab fistfuls of the sheets next to me while tossing my head back and forth, whimpering.

_"I want you practically begging me to do it,"_ echoes in my mind.

He licks me again, and before he can blow, I beg, "Jesse, please."

He moans and buries his face between my legs. The hot, rough feel of his tongue on that sensitive spot makes me go crazy. I hardly know what I'm doing anymore. All I know is what he does.

He locks his arms around my hips to keep me still and pulls my legs apart a little more before moving his tongue farther down the slit.

Then his tongue enters me, circling around the outer wall.

I have to be a mess down there, and that bothers me. Apparently, it doesn't bother him because I get the feeling he's going out of his way to get it all.

Holding my hips tighter and tilting them up a little, he then moves his tongue in and out of me in little, teasing flutters. Every time, he barely brushes a spot that I wish he'd linger on.

The damn flutters continue, making me want to scream in aggravation. It feels good, but I want better!

I make a growling noise and yell, "Jesse!"

He immediately shoves his tongue in as hard as he can _right_ where I want him to, and I love it.

"Mon Dieu!" I scream as he grinds his tongue on that area. "Oh!" I cry out again when it takes up a rhythm, and soon my hips move automatically in sync with him, a slave to his talented tongue.

_"Your boyfriend is a freak, Marie,"_ I hear in my memory as I ride his face.

I like it.

It's coming. It's coming! I can't stop it!

"Oh, merde, Jesse!" I scream, and he doesn't stop.

He groans, I whimper, and my hips lurch forward of their own will into his face. He takes the first wave with his tongue, but then he pulls back and drives two of his fingers into me, making me do it again and again, each time driving his fingers a little farther in.

He gasps as my body quakes around him. I let out a whimpering noise, shaking.

I feel his fingers leave me, and I close my eyes. I have no idea what he's up to, but I'm not worried about it. I completely understand the term 'mind-numbing' now.

"Marie?" I hear his wonderful voice ask after a while, and I mean to say something, but it doesn't work. "When were you going to tell me you're a virgin?"

# Chapter 13: Shocked

### Jesse

Marie screams my name. _Oh yes. That's what Daddy needs to hear. Scream it, baby!_

She's so fucking tiny; our first time is going to be incredible.

I groan as I think about it.

Her hips start moving as I fuck her with my face, her movements an instinctual reaction to every swipe of my tongue. She's completely under my control, and I feel her body shudder. She's close.

Yeah, baby. Give it to me!

"Oh, merde, Jesse!" she screams.

I should've counted the number of times she's screamed it. Oh well. Next time.

If this is new to her, I'd better make this damn good.

I aid her orgasm with my tongue before quickly pulling my head back and sliding in two of my fingers to press hard on her sweet spot, wondering how far I can take them.

_God, she's beautiful,_ I think as I watch her body move to my fingers' movements. I press in a little more.

She has a hymen.

_Oh holy fuck!_ I scream in my head as I gasp. _She's a virgin!_

I feel all the blood leave my face as I pull my fingers out of her. I then plant my face into the sheets, not sure if I want to scream, cry, or (strangely) laugh.

A shaky breath escapes me as I see everything with a new perspective... everything we've said, everything I've done, everything I've said..., and I want to beat the shit out of myself.

_She didn't have sex with any of them,_ I think as I hear her breathing start to get under control. _I pushed... so hard... tonight... almost every night like this... to an innocent._

Sure, she's eight years younger, but she'd had three serious boyfriends. I assumed... I was an ass.

Why didn't she tell me?

I sit up and look at her. _Why didn't I guess it before?_

I crawl up a little towards her to make my head level with hers as I patiently (I hope anyway) ask, "Marie?" She stirs a little, indicating she's aware but still a little out of it. "When were you going to tell me you're a virgin?"

She freezes as what I asked sinks in. _Please don't get upset._

Her hands come up and cover her face in a gesture of embarrassment. _No! Don't be embarrassed!_

"Marie, don't-"

"I'm sorry!" she cries through her hands.

"No! I'm only a little shocked. Don't cry again, please." I pull her to me and try to comfort her, but she adamantly pushes me away. Then, I watch, broken-hearted, as she works on pulling the sheet over her head.

No you don't!

I reach around to get under the sheet myself and pull her against me, her back to my front. Then I jerk the sheet off her head so she can't hide.

"Don't you try and push me away and go try to hide from me, Marie. I won't let you," I growl.

"Leave me alone."

"No."

She takes a couple of shaky breaths and stops trying to break free. "Okay. I should've told you, but how? That's not exactly an easy conversation topic. Besides, you haven't even been my boyfriend for a whole day yet!"

I think for a minute. "Very good points. I'm sorry I asked you that. I'm just so surprised."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you had with one of them."

"No. In fact, I think that's why Daniel cheated on me. But I just _couldn't_ after the way Armand treated me!"

"Tell me about it. I need to understand," I quietly beg. "Please."

After a deep breath, she says, "Daniel was so nice, but I couldn't get how Armand treated me out of my head. Now that I'm away from all that, I know Armand's the real asshole."

So I have a new name to hate. Reminds me of 'Interview with a Vampire.'

"What did Armand do?"

"It'll sound ridiculous to you since you don't understand."

"But I want to understand," I plead.

After another deep breath and a huff, she turns around in my arms, wincing as she accidentally hurts her knee. "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you. I'm desperate to understand you," I say, and she nuzzles her forehead into my chest before I hold her tightly to me. Thank God that's apparently what she wants me to do.

"Armand made me feel like I was a stupid coward because I didn't want to on our first date after I broke up with him and we started dating again."

"Why did you break up with him?"

"Because he hit me. He slapped me across the face so hard he left a bruise."

" _What_?!" I quietly yell. "And you agreed to go out with him again?!"

"I was used to him being a little mean, and he apologized his ass off-"

"It doesn't matter!" I interrupt her excuses.

"You're right. I shouldn't have, but I did."

"And he expects sex on the first date after _that_?!"

"I think he thought it would mend our relationship."

"I don't know the man, and I already hate him!" I pant from barely-controlled rage. Taking a few deep breaths, I go back to something she said a little earlier. "You said you were used to him being mean. Why?" _I am so glad she didn't have_ him _for her first time!_

"Because he was always that way."

"How?"

"Well, for example, he didn't like me being friends with Daniel, and he took every opportunity he could to let me know that. He said I was too stupid to see that Daniel was only friends with me because he was waiting around until Armand and I broke up. He was kind of right about that even if Daniel and I have been friends since childhood. Then there was that time I made my hair black."

"Black. Wow," I say as I try to imagine it. "Did he often call you stupid?" I ask, noticing a small theme.

"A lot."

"Why did you stay with him?"

"It got to be a habit. He wasn't _always_ bad. He was lots of fun a lot too."

"Before he left a bruise on your face," I point out dryly, noticing how quickly she defended him. I don't like the mental image of a bruised Marie. This Armand had better wish he never meets me. I reach up and run the backs of my fingers along her cheekbone. "I'm sorry," I say.

"For what?"

"For pressuring you."

"You didn't know, and we already discussed this... on the couch," she says, closing her eyes as I stroke her face repeatedly.

"If I'd known-"

"You'd what?" she snaps, her eyes opened again. "You'd treat me different?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She sounds hurt a little. Still, I have to give her the blunt truth.

"Because you're an innocent."

"No I'm not!"

"Oh you're not?" I ask, humoring her. Then I get an idea, and a grin covers my face. I lean towards her and say quietly, "So you wouldn't be shocked if I told you I'd love to part your legs right now and drive myself into you hard and fast before I fuck you so slowly that I'm barely moving yet the pressure against both your clit and sweet spot is so damn hard you scream from the intensity. However, not even I can take that for very long before I can't stand it anymore and start swiftly pounding into you as I pull your hips up off the mattress. Then I pull out and flip you over to-"

"Okay!"

"Aw, I was just getting warmed up! Give me time, I'm sure I could get more creative if I have a little more time. Oh! I know! Oh, but that involves bondage, and I don't know how you feel about that."

"Stop! I get what you're saying," she scolds me, and I sweetly kiss away her embarrassed expression. "Was it your goal to scare me?" she snips.

"What? No, of course not. Not really. I only wanted to put things into perspective for you."

Her voice drips with sarcasm as she says, "So sorry I'm an innocent, as you say. It's a shame I disappoint you so much." I can also hear the hurt in her voice behind the sarcasm.

"Marie..."

"No, no. It's fine. You've made your point."

"I'm sorry I overdid it."

"Even though, like you said, you could've 'done better.'"

"Didn't you hear me apologize?"

"I don't want you to treat me different," she says sadly.

"I have to!" I softly exclaim. "I want to." I take a breath, make a decision, and say, "Listen. I'm not staying the night again for a little while."

"Why?" she asks, looking sad and worried. "What if I want you to?"

"No, Marie. I couldn't make it through the night without doing something to you. Even if you weren't a virgin, that was still a lot faster than I originally wanted to take it. I lost my head and forgot all about simple."

"Jesse, I said yes to everything," she reminds me.

"I shouldn't have even created the situation. Don't you see?"

She sighs resolutely and says, "Yes, I do, and I understand. I'm still going to be sad though. I like you being here."

Holy shit.

I love her!

"I _will_ be here." I say, trying to keep my mind on the conversation, but I keep getting distracted by her addictive lips - that are pouting a little. "In the evenings... and our days off... and..." I can't stand it anymore, and I swiftly pull her mouth to mine so that I can get another hit of the drug that is Marie.

I'd forgotten her nakedness. I'm reminded now, however, as I run my free hand all over her torso. My pants are suddenly very restricting as I work the sheets off us with my legs.

I have to go home and change for work.

Dammit!

With this new self-imposed rule, goodness knows when I'll have a naked Marie in my arms again.

I whine like a spoiled child.

"I have to go," I say sadly while I kiss her neck.

"No. I'm holding you hostage," she growls, surprising me a little, but I like it.

"Oh, how much I wish you could," I say sadly. "But I have to go home and change first as well. I'll come by at lunch to change and wash the sheets." _And make out._

"As well as other laundry. Don't think I've forgotten about that," she laughs.

I laugh as well, remembering my taekwondo 'training.'

"And maybe," she says, "while you're changing at your house, you could get my panties so you could give them back to me during your lunch break."

"What?! And hand off the jewel of my collection?"

"Collection?!"

I laugh again.

Her eyes narrow playfully a little before she says, "Yes. The 'jewel of your collection' belongs to _me_."

"Possession is nine-tenths of the law."

"Jesse..."

"I'll only accept a trade, though it'd better be a damn good trade for those. I like them," I say before I swiftly lick her cheek.

"You...! You've been perving on my panties, and you have a _collection_?!"

"I have _really_ been perving on your panties, Marie. They're a souvenir of the first time I kissed you too," I say passionately. "I'll buy you some to replace them, but I'm keeping that pair."

"Thief!" she mockingly accuses, and I laugh again.

# Chapter 14: Good Boy/Bad Boy

### Erin

We get back to Bryce's place, and after putting Adele to bed, he takes a shower. When he comes out of the bathroom, he finds me standing in front of his dresser, looking at some pictures. My attention is drawn to the one where he holds a toddler Adele.

He wordlessly walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

"Hey," I say and reach a hand back to run my fingers through his damp hair. He answers me by kissing my neck. "You look weird with longer hair," I finish, pointing to the picture. In it, he has long bangs that would hang down into half of his face.

"Hm?" he mumbles into my shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"That picture with you and Adele. The older one," I clarify while he tightens his arms around my waist and presses himself fully against me.

"Have I ever told you how much I love these shorts?" he asks, his mind obviously elsewhere other than the topic I chose. A single hand roves around the front of my shorts before settling comfortably between my legs. "I'm so glad you're here tonight," he whispers as his fingers start moving.

I gasp out, "Well, I can tell in what kind of mood you are."

He chuckles a little before saying, "Like there would be any doubt?"

He turns me around and continues, "Speaking of which..."

I interrupt him, "You mean what I did earlier in the bathroom didn't tide you over?" I hope he can see the humorously-mischievous gleam in my eyes.

He does, and he smiles. "It helped, but you know me better than that. Three days. I've been going insane." He drags his thumb across my lips as we stand here quietly for a few seconds.

I hadn't realized. Hm. Three days?

I suddenly realize my period is late. _Fuck!_

"Like I was saying..." he starts again, "...Speaking of which, I have a request. More like a 'begging, pleading, what do I have to do to get this again?' kind of thing." He sees the look of panic in my eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

I quickly work at changing my expression back to a more neutral one. "Nothing," I reply.

"Erin, don't give me the bullshit 'nothing' response. It's obviously something," he says sternly.

"No, seriously. I'm curious about what you want so bad that you're willing to beg. This should be interesting," I hopefully distract him with a wicked twinkle in my eyes.

He watches me calculatingly for a few seconds before he decides to tell me. "That thing that you torture me by forcing me to be still."

"You're asking to be tortured," I state the question with one eyebrow raised.

He smiles and says, "That kind of torture? Hell yes. I'm begging."

_I love that smile._ "You're such a bad boy, Bryce."

"No, I'm not," he responds with a mockingly-hurt expression. "I'm good. At least," he says then kisses me gently on the lips, "that's what you said last time." He kisses me again too lightly. "Although... it was so long ago that I'm having trouble remembering."

"Three days," I state. "You'd think you were about to shrivel up and die," I tease. He'd better stop kissing me so lightly because it's driving me insane.

"Nothing shriveling here," he says a little too seriously before he kisses me way to sweetly. _Damn it! I need more than that, and he knows it!_

He groans with pleasure when I attack him. _Sonofa... he wanted me to do that,_ I think when he _finally_ kisses me like I need him to.

His hand slides down over my ass, and he pulls me up to him. _Nope, no shriveling going on down there, that's for damn sure._ I let out something like a cross between a whine and a moan when his magic hands start kneading me. _I wish I knew how he does that!_ I think as I again feel like his hands reach below my skin to every extra-sensitive nerve ending beneath the surface.

He runs his mouth down the column of my throat while one hand moves up to undo my shirt. Then he takes both hands and quickly pushes my shirt off my shoulders.

"Please, Erin," he groans as he starts backing up towards the bed and pulling me with him.

I keep wondering why he hasn't undone my bra yet. He acts like he's enjoying the 'novelty' of it by the way he plays around with it and through it.

"Huh?" I ask. I've forgotten all about what he'd mentioned earlier.

"You know, that thing you do when I have to be still and you go apeshit inside," he mumbles against my breast.

"Oh yeah," I say, sounding like the stereotypical 'dumb blonde.'

He growls and mimics me, "Oh yeah."

I laugh, and he swings me around before laying me down on the bed.

"You know," he says with his own wicked gleam in his eyes now, "this works both ways. _I_ could torture _you_."

"Are you threatening me?" I tease. I like how goofy he's acting tonight.

"Maybe. You've made me resort to threats already," he says and smiles. "I'll cuff you to the bed and suck your toes all I want. I told Adele that she might want to sleep with her iPod playing in her ears."

My mouth drops open. "You didn't!"

He laughs. "We've sort of already discussed it. Still, she said, 'ew!'"

I still can't believe he did that, and I blush when I think about how Adele knows what we're up to. He reaches up and takes my glasses off my face before folding them as he places them on the bedside table. His face has gotten a more and more serious expression on it while he's watched me blush.

"What's the best way I can beg? Hm?" he says and kisses me again for a minute while removing our clothes.

It wouldn't be the end of the world if I do turn out to be pregnant.

"Erin?" Bryce asks. "Please? I'll be really good."

I laugh loudly at his boyish antics.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm begging here. See?" He pouts in a ridiculous fashion, and I crack up laughing again. "You're laughing at my begging! I even stopped my threats. Do I need to threaten you again?"

"They do say it's addictive," I mention noncommittally while he rolls us over, putting me on top of him.

"I can believe that. I've thought about begging for it again over and over but gotten distracted each time. Now, I can't stand it anymore, and I'll do _anything_ , Erin. Please."

"You're so cute when you're pitiful."

"Cute is good, right?" he asks, and he suggestively rolls me on top of him. "So cute that you want to give me what I want. That's got to be it." He parts my legs, placing one on either side of his hips, and whimpers when his playful act slips away for a second. I lean down and kiss him. He feels deliciously warm underneath me as his hands come up and cup the back of my head to get more out of the kiss than I originally intended to give. He only stops when I move my hips over him to suggest that I'm going to give him what he wants.

"Alright. Since you've been a 'good boy' even if I can think of several instances where you've been a 'bad boy.'" I tell him, and he doesn't argue with me as he sighs when I join our bodies.

"Remember, you asked for it, begged for it," I warn him, he nods quickly, and I start working my magic.

He whines and starts whispering various expletives. Then he groans and pushes his hips up into me.

"Ah ah ah," I warn like I'm scolding a child. _Child. ...Later, Erin. Worry about that later._

Bryce distracts me from my wandering thoughts by yelling, "Fuck, Erin! I forgot!" He lets out a wail as he tilts his head back. I'm driving him insane, and I love this power.

"Do you want me to stop?" I ask, expecting the answer no.

"No!" he screams. "Shit!" He lets out a little crying noise.

He's so cute. Hm. Cute...

"So, I'm 'cute' when I'm angry?" I ask, referring to how he thought it was 'cute' that I got mad at those 'leftovers' earlier today. He whimpers a non-answer. "Well?!" I rake my nails across his chest and watch little red lines pop up. They'll fade soon.

He has the gall to smile for a split second before moaning and answering, "Yes."

I slow down what I'm doing and make up for it by getting much tighter. His eyes open like they're about to pop out of his head.

"Cute?" I ask again.

"Yes! No! I don't know!" he quickly yells, and I jerk my hips forward once, using my stomach muscles to press down on top of him on the inside. "Shit!" he yells.

I hope Adele is asleep.

Bryce moans my name repeatedly, and it turns me on much more than all the swearing. Then, he starts mumbling about how he wants to move, and I tell him he can't, that it's against the rules.

"Then I'm a bad boy," he gets out quickly. "Don't stop."

As quick as lightning, he sits up and covers a nipple with his mouth. I make a little noise of surprise, but he grunts to tell me not to stop. "I'm not moving," he whispers and groans when I really start up again.

I let out a whine now as he pushes my hips hard against him while suckling my breast, his tongue teasing me and shooting pleasure between my legs. He groans, and I feel him grow harder. His hands hold my hips tighter, and he lightly bites me.

My head throws itself back, and I let out a small cry as I surprise myself by coming around him. He lets go of my nipple as he loudly groans before crying out as he comes, yelling and pushing me harder onto him.

That's the first time _I've_ had an orgasm while doing that. I hold onto the back of his shoulders and neck as I pant while we both recover. His arms slowly get tighter around me, and he stands up on his knees before gently laying me back against the mattress. His leans down to lovingly kiss me while he slowly pulls himself out.

I can feel him looking at me with that stare of his that normally makes me feel self-conscious, but I don't care right now.

After an eternity, he speaks, "I'm sorry if I broke the rules, but it bothered me last time when you didn't come." I make a wordless noise, and he continues, "So, I thought I'd try that. I assume, now, that you didn't mind." I can _hear_ him smiling.

"Mhm," I answer in as much a word as I can manage right now. I don't even jump when I feel his warm hand on my stomach when I might normally have felt startled. He sounds like he's moving so that he can hover over me a little.

His breath is warm against my cheek as he whispers, "You're amazing, Erin." Then, he tenderly kisses me, and I don't mind the tenderness this time like I did earlier.

When he lets me talk, I say, "I'll take that as a real compliment coming from you."

He smiles down at me and says, "And I'm not just talking sex either."

"You say the sweetest things," I say with the tiniest amount of mockery in my voice as I pinch his cheek next to that adorable smile.

He humors me when I want to get dressed a little before going to sleep. I don't particularly like sleeping nude, and I always have this fear of Adele walking in.

We plan to sleep on top of the covers. It's too hot to sleep under them.

I can feel him staring at me once we lie down again, and I call him out on it.

"So what if I am?" he asks playfully.

"Can't you at least wait until I go to sleep?"

"No, because what if I go to sleep first?" he points out. "And I want to thoroughly enjoy every second since you have this crazy notion of not staying here every night."

_Um... What?_ I think, starting to get a little angry. I open my eyes and see that he wears a generic expression. I ask him what he meant by that.

"I mean that I seriously miss you when you're not here. I have trouble sleeping. It's like I'm sleeping next to a big... chasm," he finishes like he's proud he thought of that word.

"I have my own house too, and you're acting like you want to move too fast again, Bryce," I say and try to not make it sound like I'm whining.

I watch him closely for his reaction, and he looks like he's trying to hide how angrily frustrated he is.

"I hate it when I have to sleep alone, and... I worry," he says.

"About what?"

He lets out a little huff and asks, "Are you still emailing Sean?"

"What?! No! I mean, he's tried to contact me several times, but I ignore him. 'Don't feed the troll,' you know?" I tell him, shocked and a little madder than before.

"You're not chatting with him?"

"Not since that night," I say then wince. I hadn't ever told him about chatting with him.

"You chatted with him too?!"

"Yes. Only that night. Every other time I've gotten on my computer, I made doubly sure that my status showed 'offline.' I haven't talked or anything with him since," I say, and I get pissed that he doesn't look like he really believes me.

"Then what do you do when you're not here sleeping with me?"

"Write, dammit. You know. My book?" I snap and watch his expression as it changes from disbelief to being angry at himself.

He closes his eyes. "I'm sorry," he says and looks like he's tearing into himself inside his head.

Instantly understanding his worries, I reach up and stroke his face, hoping to erase the self-hatred I see there.

"It's okay," I whisper. "It's not like your worries are unfounded," I say, meaning what Ashley did to him.

"You mean because of the bitch?" he asks, and I'm curious why he doesn't say her name. I nod. "I'm actually glad that she left me now." He sweetly kisses me. "It would kill me to not be with you. It _does_ kill me when you're not here. I miss you when you're not here. I want you here all the time." After a short pause, he continues, "I think you know what I'm getting at."

_'At what I'm getting' sounds stupid,_ I consider when I think how he ended in a preposition to distract myself from the more obvious thought.

"Erin..."

"Stop," I say quickly. I don't want him to ask me to move in with him, and I know that's where he's going with this. He's wanted to discuss this with me several times already, and that's what prompted the 'we're moving too fast' speech.

He sighs and says very quietly, "But I miss you all the time."

My heart aches as it screams at me to go ahead and do it, but my head mentally shakes at the thought of it. It's too soon. I like the way things are now, and I'm scared that moving in with him will change everything for the worse. Then there's Adele to consider.

"Bryce..." I say in a choked-up voice. I can't form the words to tell him no.

He kisses me to, I guess, delay my 'no.'

"I love you. I've never loved anyone like this, and it scares the shit out of me," he says very close to my lips.

"I'm not saying not ever," I point out quietly.

"Then how will I be able to stand it until then?" he asks in a desperate tone. Then his mouth claims mine as it transfers all the desperation from his expression into his kiss. He shakes for a second or two before he squeezes me to him.

I feel like I can't give him enough, and the thought makes me sad. _How can I do this to someone I love? Why can't I just simply give him what he wants?_ I start crying.

"Shit," he mumbles into my lips. "Baby, don't cry."

"I guess I'm a crybaby."

"I'm not going to lie and say that I don't want it anymore because I do. Very much. But I don't want you feeling terrible even more than that. Don't cry." He kisses me once. "I love you. Don't be upset because I hate sleeping alone. I get it. This is too much right now." He kisses me again. "That's a hard thing for me to accept, but I'm trying." His eyes rove my face, trying to make sure I'm okay or will be okay soon. I wish I could tell him I love him too, but I know if I do that, I'll start bawling.

He exhales through his nose. I try to calm down while he watches me.

I take a deep breath and say, "I'll not go three nights again if I can help it." _Although, my period should've started, and I don't like to when I'm on it..._

He takes a deep breath and says, "That helps." He wipes my face a little. "And I'll try to be good and stop bringing it up all the time."

"You haven't brought it up all the time," I say, and he merely gives me this look without verbally contradicting me.

I love him so much, but I'm worried that if we move fast that everything will turn out like it did with Sean. I know that worry is irrational for the most part, but it's there nonetheless.

### Bryce

I feel like such an ass. I didn't want to bring all that up, and I did it anyway.

Erin curls up on her side, facing away from me. I pull up behind her and hold her close, and she sighs happily.

"I'm sorry," I apologize again quietly. Then, I feel the need to still explain myself a little further. "I'm just so happy that you're a part of my life now that I have trouble letting go a little."

"I'm not going to leave you, Bryce," she says quietly.

I whisper a painful realization, "I hate being alone." I have to stop talking because I don't want to cry about this.

Erin rolls around to face me and says, "Even if I'm not here, you still have me. I'm still your girlfriend. I don't want anyone else."

I hate that she feels like she has to say those things, but quite honestly, I think I need to hear them. I want to tell her that she doesn't have to say all that, but I don't trust my voice at the moment. Instead, I kiss her and try to keep myself from turning into the train wreck again while I do. I _have_ to get myself under control and not fall apart.

_Asking her to marry me is definitely out for a while. 'Girlfriend.' 'Fiancée' or 'wife' sound even better... and there I go again,_ I think as she rolls back over. Then I kiss the back of her shoulder as her breathing gets deep and even.

_I'm not alone right at this second,_ I think and hold her a little tighter to me. She moves so that her back better molds itself into my chest, and I bury my face in her hair. _I love this. This is what I want all the time._

I start getting hard again because of how her butt is pressed up against me. _No, stop it. She's tired._

_Damn, she smells good,_ I think as I breathe in the delicious scent of her hair. My hand slides down to her hip and around to her belly as I pull her back even tighter to me.

_I am such an animal,_ I think as I start kissing the back of her neck, hoping she's not _that_ tired.

She makes a little whining sound. _I guess she is that tired._

_But..._ I move my hand inside her shorts. She's just wearing shorts and not her panties, so I have an even easier time getting my hand where I want it.

"Bryce..." she whines my name and gasps like she's actually surprised by what I'm doing.

"I can't help myself," I mumble into her neck as I use the hand that's pleasuring her to also push her even harder against me. _This feels so good,_ I think as I rock my hips into her sweet ass.

A small noise comes out of her mouth as I really start working her. _Lay there and take it!_ I scream inside my head as I thoroughly enjoy how I'm humping her, and the knowledge of how I'm driving her wild makes me want to keep going.

She cries out and reaches up to grab her pillow with her fist. Then she says my name as almost a complaint and a moan at the same time. This isn't exactly what I had in mind at the start, but damn it if I'm not loving this. I've half a mind to yank her shorts down and come in through the back door, but I don't know how she'd respond to that. I don't really feel like stopping long enough to either do it or ask.

"You kinky sonofabitch," she groans. She's not saying it like she's insulting me really.

I moan, "You have no idea." Then I come in my underwear, working very hard at not completely stopping my hand.

I feel even more satisfied when she comes wetly into my fingers.

While she pants, I say quietly into her ear, "You also have no idea how many times I've wanted to do that to you while you've worn these shorts." _Day one, for example._

# Chapter 15: Baby Love

### Belinda

I'm sitting here at Hurricane, the same place where I ran into that ex of Erin's, and I'm staring at the poster of my great-grandmother when I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"I didn't expect to see _you_ here."

It's Julian, and he sounds happily surprised.

I turn and smile a little at him, "True. This isn't my usual Friday night spot, but I wanted something a little different today."

Tonight is karaoke night at Hurricane, and so far, the participants are terrible. That's part of what makes karaoke fun though.

Julian laughs a little and says, "This is certainly different from Bryce's bar with this junk they're trying pull off as 'music.'" He takes the bar stool next to me.

I laugh as well and ask, "Then why do we choose to come on nights like these when we _know_ what's going to happen?"

"I suppose that's one of the great mysteries of the universe," he answers me with a smile.

I'm happy that Julian is talking to me. I'd worried that he'd avoid me like the plague after what had happened the last time I gave him a massage. I tactfully decide to leave that out of our conversation - which has lulled into an awkward pause.

I pull out my old standby. "Do you know who that woman in the picture is?"

"Yes. That's Gloria Love."

I smile as I look over at him. "Correct. She's also my great-grandmother."

"No way," he says in a state of awe. I love it when I get this reaction. "She was inducted into the hall of fame recently, wasn't she?"

_Wow, he really knows!_ "Yes. It's kinda funny because for the longest time, the world forgot about her after she died. Then there was this sudden surge of interest in her again for no reason people can pin down. It just sorta... happened. People realized she'd been overlooked in history, and they put her in. My mom went in her honor," I tell him and hope I don't sound like I'm bragging. It occurs to me that he may already know everything I just told him. Oh well.

"I guess you never realize who people are and where they come from sometimes," he mentions quietly. Louder, he says, "I have a few of her old records and then a few CDs. I'd love to get my hands on some of her old phonographs."

I raise an eyebrow and ask, "Really?"

"Yes..." he lets his answer trail out in a questioning way.

"I have some. My great-grandfather ordered a hundred of all of them at one time, and of course, he never needed all of them."

He smiles, puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, and says, "I'm not asking for you to sell them to me. I'd feel guilty, especially since you're her descendant. I would like to have a listen though."

"My player needs a new needle," I say.

"Then why not bring them over to my place, and I'll play them on my old Victrola," he offers.

"That would be... nifty!" I crack up laughing at the word I chose.

### Pamela

Simon finally comes home, and he greets me in my favorite way by pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply. I hate him working several-day-long shifts because I miss him like mad. This time has been especially difficult because I have news that I hope makes him happy. I didn't want to tell him over the phone.

"Hey, baby," he says in his beautifully deep voice.

"Hey, Uncle Simon!" we hear coming from the hallway before Adele bounds into the room.

Simon lets go of me so that he can hug Adele before kissing her on the cheek.

"Jer-jer ate dirt today!" she announces and then laughs at Simon's expression.

I put my forehead in my hand and say, "That child's hands are fast."

Jeremy comes toddling in and Simon gets down on one knee to hug his son. He's so great with kids. When I first met him, he acted so tough and macho. Then when I saw him playing with Adele before one of our first dates, I was happily surprised at the more warmhearted, tender side he showed. It was so sexy. ... still is.

Lost in my little reverie, I come back to the here and now to see that Simon has pulled out the bottle I stuck in the fridge for later and handed it to Jeremy. He's too old for bottles, but we humor him.

_And we're going to need those bottles again,_ I think happily.

Adele picks up Jeremy and carries him to the television so that they can watch their favorite show. I walk over to Simon and grab his hand to drag him back into the bedroom. Well, there's actually no dragging involved because he happily follows behind me, understanding my wordless suggestion with a smile.

When we get in our bedroom, he immediately wraps his arms around me and kisses me much more passionately than he did in the living room. His hands are already at the hem of my shirt in anticipation of removing it.

_Maybe what I have to say can wait,_ I think as I unbuckle his suspenders and remove his shirt at light speed before running my greedy hands all over his chiseled chest and abs. _There's one good side effect about his job,_ I think while he makes me stop what I'm doing so that he can remove my shirt.

We have to be fast. Adele understands that Simon and I like to be alone for a while after he gets home from a long stay at work, but she thinks we're only kissing in here. Well, we do that too.

Simon jerks my shorts and panties down roughly from where he crouches on the floor. Then he surprises me by shoving his face between my legs and circling my clit with his tongue. I cry out and grab his dreads in my fingers as I fight to remain standing.

"Oh, baby," I gasp out, "I missed... you."

He laughs a deep laugh in the back of his throat and gives me a chance to catch my breath as he works his way up my abdomen. I coyly step away and walk towards the bed. He stands up and watches me while I watch him remove his boxer shorts. His huge erection gleefully springs free from the confines of his clothing, but he doesn't give me much time to enjoy looking at him as he takes two steps over to the bed where I wait for him.

Without a word, he lifts my legs up and pushes himself into me. I cry out from the intense pleasure of finally having my husband's dick inside me. Damn, I really missed him.

He lets out a sigh as I guess he has similar thoughts running through his mind. Then he starts to rock his hips into me, pulling my legs up with him and resting them on his shoulders as he crouches over me. Our eyes meet for a few seconds as he slowly fucks me, and I enjoy every inch of him as he moves in and out of my wet center at an unhurried pace. In the back of my mind, I always worry when he takes it slow because of Adele and Jeremy, but I never ask him to speed up. I could never tire of this.

"Sweet Pamela," he whispers, breaking our eye contact as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back a little to take a deep breath. His tempo never falters.

I close my eyes when I feel that delicious tightening in my lower belly as my orgasm tells me of its impending arrival. Simon still doesn't speed up, and I have to breathe fast before biting hard on my lip to keep from crying out. It's only at this moment do I wish he would speed up, but I still don't ask because I know how good it will be if he doesn't.

I whimper a little when he applies more force, and I can feel him brush up against my cervix. I throw my arms back on the bed on either side of my head and moan as I continue to slowly rise up to that desired moment.

I whisper his name just before I finally climax. He whispers something I don't catch because I'm too caught up in him moving inside me at an even slower tempo as waves of pleasure rock the foundation of my universe. I'm in a state of nirvana as he thrusts himself into me over and over, saying my name and groaning softly. I love watching his mouth say my name.

I grab one of the pillows next to me so that I can scream into it before moving it aside and watching my husband as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A whimper escapes me as I feel it happening again.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Give it up, baby." I feel him throbbing inside of me. Everything is so sensitive when I'm like this. I remember loving sex when I was pregnant with Jeremy, and I'm glad to see that, at least for now, nothing has changed. Simon's eyes meet mine and hold me prisoner as he groans, "C'mon, give The Dragon his sweet seconds."

I can't keep from crying out as I come again, and he groans as he pours himself into me, his dick thrusting so far into me that I cry out again, a little concerned.

He pulls out and lies down to kiss me. "I love you," he says quietly to me. Then, he's quiet for a second before he says in a questioning way, "Something was different though."

I work on catching my breath as I ask, "Really?"

"Yeah," he says.

When I pull back, I smile at him and say, "We're going to have a baby."

I laugh at the look on his face. He looks like he's been knocked stupid.

"Why do you act so surprised? We were trying, weren't we? You doubted your ability to knock up your woman?" I ask in a teasing voice.

His expression changes to a broad smile before he tackles me back against my pillow and kisses me passionately.

# Chapter 16: Blackmail

### Bryce

Erin did pretty good for her first Friday night last night. Of course, I spent the entire time wanting to drag her back into the bathroom, but I managed to keep a lid on it until we got home.

Today, she looks distracted again like she did all day yesterday.

Fed up with it, I ask, "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" I swear she looks like she's about to say 'nothing,' so I say, "And don't tell me it's nothing."

"It's probably nothing," she answers me quietly, and I want to scream. Luckily for her, some customers show up.

I scowl a little when Bernadette walks up the stairs to the bar.

"I need to talk to you. Privately," she says as she walks up to me. I have a bad feeling about this, but nonetheless, I motion for her to go down to this useless lower seating area.

"Simon spoke with me yesterday," she starts, talking about my former assistant manager.

_Great,_ I think sarcastically.

"Did you know we were sleeping together?" she asks me.

"Not until the night I fired him, no," I answer with my arms folded defensively across my chest.

"Yeah. It made my work environment much nicer since he got what he wanted."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I accuse.

"I assumed you knew since you never did anything about it," she tells me.

"Obviously not." _That makes no sense, but this is Bernadette we're talking about here._

"Hm," she replies noncommittally. "Well, so now I hear that he tried the same thing with the new girl, and she threw a fit about it."

"Yes, and then I realized what had been going on. What are you getting at?" I ask irritatedly.

"Simon wants me to side with him and say that what he did to Marie was no big deal," she says in an almost cocky manner.

"Do you think what he did was no big deal?" I ask. Then, I realize that I owe her an apology for not realizing how she had to put up with Simon before. Since she's quiet, I go ahead and say, "I'm sorry I never did anything about it. I honestly had no idea." _Although, I could've tried to pay more attention to what was going on around me._

She looks at the sand for a second or two before her eyes snap up to me as she says, "I chalked it up to 'one of those things.' So one of my bosses was interested in me. In a way, I felt flattered."

She continues, "I also hoped it would make someone jealous, but he didn't usually come to the bar when Simon worked," she states. "Of course, I'd have to be a blonde tourist to get _his_ attention. Although, it turned out it didn't matter if I was a tourist or not, did it?"

"Um..." I can't figure out who she's talking about.

"Jesse, you idiot!" she snaps, explaining to me who the 'someone' was.

"You let Simon treat you that way to try to make Jesse jealous," I state in a questioning way, asking her to clarify.

She really looks mad. "Yes! They hate each other! Or were you too blind to see that too?"

"No, but I never let it bother me. Not everyone has to get along all the time." I watch her glare at me, and I actually feel a bit of pity for her. _She let that slimeball have her in hopes to get Jesse's attention?_ _That really doesn't make good sense, ...but maybe it does from her perspective._

The picture forms in my head: Jesse and I flirting at work around, but not with, Bernadette, and her wanting Jesse to notice her. He doesn't, so she takes the one man that _does_ notice her to maybe make Jesse see her in a different light. Only it doesn't work, and she's stuck with that situation until she decides she's finally had enough and up and quits.

She sadly says, "So, I thought that Jesse didn't want to be serious with anyone, and I put up with Simon because it really was no big deal to me. But then _Erin_ shows up, and you both... What's so _wrong_ with me that neither of you ever saw me as anything but the waitress?"

_Whoa! Holy shit! How did_ I _get dragged into this?_ I think as I catch her implication.

"So, in a last-ditch effort, I quit. No longer the waitress! You two _laughed_ at me! Don't think I didn't notice that!" Angry tears show up in her eyes as she glares at me.

I remember the reaction that Jesse and I had when Bernadette had brought Jesse flowers that Friday night when Jesse met Marie.

"I'm sorry. It was a shock!"

"So you laugh?!"

"Flowers?" I point out to her her ridiculous method to get Jesse's attention. She continues to glare at me. I calm down and ask, "What do you want, Bernadette?" I want to get to the real reason she's here. It can't be only to stand there and complain to me.

"I want you to set me up with Jesse," she says point-blank.

I feel my jaw drop. I try to close it, but it drops again.

"I think he and Marie are together-together," I say slowly. I haven't spoken to Jesse in a few days.

Her fists clench at her sides before she says, "Either set me up with him, or I'll side with Simon in this lawsuit he has against you."

"So, you want me to set you up with my best friend... who probably has a girlfriend, or you'll testify against me should Simon need you to. That's blackmail. You want to make it to where you can only get a date with Jesse from blackmail," I state and watch her as she takes her turn folding her arms defensively in front of her.

"I don't want to think of it like that, but yes. And I'd hope that you'd not make it out like that's the only reason you're doing it too. If you set me up with him, I'll go in and talk about how Simon sexually harassed and used me."

_Desmond could get you to do that anyway,_ I think but decide against telling her that.

"I can't do that if Jesse and Marie are together," I state.

"Break them up," she counters. "Those are my terms."

_Shit! This woman is crazy!_ "Give me until tomorrow to give you an answer," I request, not knowing what else to say. Surely, Jesse would never agree to this, but I have a bad feeling about Bernadette siding with Simon.

"Fine," she snaps and saunters off.

_Fuck,_ I think as I pull out my phone. I look up at the bar area and see Erin looking quizzically at me. I plaster on a fake smile and hold up a finger to tell her I'll be another minute. The bar isn't terribly busy. The heat is keeping them away. My new building will help with that.

I have a message from my architect on my phone. I listen and call him back to tell him when we can meet since he wants my final word. Then, I call Jesse.

"Hey, man. What's up?" he asks as he answers.

"Hey, are you busy?" I ask.

"Not anymore," he answers, sounding ludicrously happy. I hate that I'm possibly going to make his day worse. "I meant to call you," he says, interrupting my mental fidgeting. "You'll never guess what happened. Okay, so maybe you _can_ guess."

I let out a flat laugh and think, _Oh shit._ "Um, Marie?"

"Yep!" he lets out happily with a thick southern accent. "She couldn't resist me," he finishes, and I can see him in my mind with that stupid grin on his face. I wish I could be happy he's happy.

Damn you, Bernadette!

Still, I play along. "Well, of course. I mean, after all, I'm the one that set you two up. Don't you trust my judgment?" _Shit. Shit. Shit!_

"Stop trying to steal the credit!" he teases, and I let out a distressed exhale. "What's going on?"

"I... may have a problem," I tell him slowly.

"Is it Erin?" he asks, and I immediately get suspicious. Why would he automatically think of Erin?

I do my best to squelch my distrusting attitude and answer, "No, it's not Erin. It's... Bernadette."

"Um... dude? What the hell? What happened? Please, tell me you didn't do something stupid."

"Huh?" _He means cheat on Erin. No!_ "No! Nothing like that. She came by and told me Simon Cottrell had been talking to her."

"Oh," he says quietly.

"You serious about Marie?" I ask, hating myself.

"Hell yes. Don't you get any ideas," he growls.

Will we ever be able to really trust each other?

"No. Not that. Geez, man!"

"You're not going to fire her, are you? Why are you talking Bernadette and then Marie? Did she ask for her old job back? Don't give it to her is my advice. Yeah, I mean, Marie is out of commission for a little while, but-"

"No, I'm not going to fire her," I say before Jesse can continue with his needless rant.

He pauses for a few seconds before I hear him say, "Yes, I'm dead serious about Marie. Is that what you mean? I'm not interested in Bernadette."

At least he thinks all I'm doing is trying to set him up with her. "Okay," I tell him.

"Wait. That's it? So what does this have to do with Simon talking to her? Is he still bothering her, and she needs to use me to get him off of her?"

_Shit._ I can't lie to him. "She wants to go out with you or she'll testify on Simon's behalf in the lawsuit," I blurt out.

The other end of the line stays silent for a full minute, and I don't want to be the one to break the silence. I give him time to think.

"That's blackmail," I finally hear.

"Yes, it is."

"That b- ..." he must suddenly remember he's at work. He makes a growling noise as I'm sure a list of profanities runs through his mind. "I can't do it. I wish I could help. I probably would if I wasn't with Marie."

"You'd let me pimp you out like that?" I can't help but ask with a huge grin on my face.

"Aw, man. Shut the ... up!" he snarls, and I laugh loudly in spite of my stressful situation. "Here I am... willing to help out a friend in need, and you have to go and talk sh- ...stuff like that."

"Well, I appreciate the, um, sentiment," I say in an attempt to make like everything is okay. _Shit. What am I going to do?_

"How in the hell is she going to testify against you?" Jesse asks, sounding confused.

I explain to him what Bernadette said. He agrees with me that Desmond could trick her into saying that Simon harassed her, which he did in our opinion. Then he apologizes to which I tell him not to worry about it, that I thought I'd give it a shot anyway. We hang up, and I head back up to the bar proper to give Jones a break.

Erin tries to get me to talk about what Bernadette wanted. I like how she acts a little jealous.

Ugh. I wish I could talk to her right now about it. Maybe she'd have an idea.

After Jones gets back from his break, I send Erin on one. Then, when she gets back, I see my architect walking up with his plans. They're great!

I make some signs notifying the public of my imminent but temporary closing. Next Saturday is it for however long it takes to build my new building. I'll be closed during the Christmas season, but that doesn't worry me too much. I'm using a local building company, and they're so happy to have the work that they want to get started asap.

I'm excited.

If only I didn't have Simon, and now Bernadette I'm sure, breathing down my neck, life would be great. Still, I wince when I think about how much money I'm spending to get this done. I'll be... okay, but I've gotten used to having a huge cushion of money in the bank that's not going to be there. Plus, if Desmond doesn't win this case for me, I might have to take out a loan. _Why does Simon have to be such an ass, and why did I have to be so fucking blind to everything?_

Erin and I get home, um, to my house, and after we say goodnight to Pam, Erin walks up to me to ask, "What's wrong? Are you stressed about closing?"

I take a deep breath and simply crush Erin to me, not saying anything yet.

_Well, I don't think I'll have to worry about buying an engagement ring,_ I think sardonically on top of everything else.

I can sense her continued question in her posture, so I answer, "Lots of things." Then I reach down and cup her perfect ass in my hands, and instantly, I feel a little better.

"What can I do?" she asks.

The answer comes immediately to my head. "Get naked and into the hot tub." _I'm going to fuck the shit out of you._ My hands have that fantastic hot feeling as I run them all over her. She feels so damn good.

"Then," she gasps, and I love the expression she has, "don't you have to... let me go so I can?"

"No, I'll help," I say quickly and pull her shirt over her head.

I think it took me three whole minutes to get us out here. Three very long minutes.

Erin lets me do anything I want. I think she can sense how very much I need this, and I want to take advantage of that attitude. She has such a perfect ass...

"Bryce!" she gasps when she figures out what I want to do to her. I swing my hand around in front of her and cup her pussy as I pull her back against me. "Bryce, no!"

"Erin, please let me," I beg, and she cries out as I masturbate her.

Her breathing is erratic as she tells me, "No one ever has."

_Fuck yes. Just me._ "Then we'll take it nice and slow," I say low into her ear. "The warm water will help." I tell her, and she lets out a little whine as I encourage her to hang onto the side of the hot tub while I position myself behind her.

"Relax, baby," I say soothingly and stroke her back. She does, and I get in a little before she can instinctively tense up again. I take in a breath and let it out to the sky as she tightens up around just the tip. Already, I can feel my stress start to leave me.

After a lot of doubt from her and much gentle encouragement from me, I finally get completely in her. I allow my hands to run up and down her fantastic body while I stay still inside her.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she says quietly in a worried tone.

"And you're doing good," I say soothingly. Good doesn't describe how I feel right now, more like euphoric. Sex is my favorite stress relief. I want to move, but I don't know for sure if she's ready. So, I give her more time to get used to me as I continue to stroke her body with my hands. Then I groan as I get an idea.

My hand reaches once more down to masturbate her, and she gasps and tries to grab my hand.

"Hold onto the side, baby," I instruct calmly as my fingers tease her slick center. Then I stop teasing and really give it to her. I want her good and relaxed, and this is one way to make it happen. My fingers show no mercy as I throw her into an orgasm. The way she tightens around me when she comes makes me have to draw in a quick breath that I let out in a groan. I love this woman.

Yes, I love her, and I need her. If only she knew the power she held over me. Maybe she does, and that's why she's letting me do this. This was obviously not her idea, and yet we're doing it anyway. She really does love me.

She enters that blissful, post-coital state, and I finally start to move. She tightens up occasionally, but never for long and with much strength behind it. We groan in unison, and the water in the hot tub sloshes around with my steady tempo.

"Fuck yes!" I whisper loudly. "Oh, Erin!"

She lets out a feminine whine while she holds onto the side of the tub for dear life as I hold her hips. I feel so deliciously good as I take what I need from her perfect body. Then, I start to feel my body move on its own as I start getting close. _Yes! This is what I needed!_ I scream in my head as I surrender all my stress to the bliss that Erin's body gives me.

I come in her sweet ass, and she cries out a little like I might have hurt her. "Erin," I whisper to her as I try to hold back a little while my body pumps into hers uncontrollably. Then I collapse onto her back.

After a few seconds, I notice that she has difficulty holding me up, and I swing us around so that I'm sitting on one of the benches. She makes a small, whining noise as I move her with me.

"Shh, baby. Relax," I croon in a whisper. Her breathing picks up speed as I slowly separate us. I turn her to cradle her in my arms before reaching up to push her hair out of her face.

I can't help but kiss her once she's comfortably settled in my lap.

I don't like it when I come and she doesn't. I feel like less of a man, and that bothers me. I'm not done with her, but I feel like I need to leave her alone for a little bit. So, I quietly watch her face as she goes from a troubled look to a peaceful one over and over, and I wish I knew what she was thinking. I don't disturb her anymore, however.

Finally, she snuggles her head into the space between my shoulder blade and my neck, and I hold her tighter for about a minute.

My troubles from earlier rear their ugly heads, but they don't have the power they did before. I mentally shrug and let them go, knowing I'll do what I can when I can.

"Thank you," I whisper down to her, also wondering if she doesn't actually understand that she helped with more than just making me feel good physically. She stays quiet, so I ask, "Did I really hurt you?" I know that that must've hurt a little, so I only ask if I'd hurt her more than a little.

"Not bad, no," she answers me quietly. I suspect she's lying, but I hope she's not.

"You didn't come," I state.

"I did. Before you started," she says like she thinks I'm dense or something.

"That's not when I meant," I say to her while running my hand up and down her thigh.

"Was I supposed to?" she asks innocently, and I swallow a small laugh. "Sorry," she finishes, and I roll my eyes. I'm still happy though.

"Don't be _sorry_ ," I say playfully. "Just means I owe you one," I say more seriously as my hand makes its way up her inner thigh.

"Bryce," she gasps. "Bryce, trust me, I'm thoroughly fucked. Honest." She whimpers when I reach her folds with my fingers. "We're even," she says like she's begging.

"I _need_ to do this to you, Erin," I say and give her a hard look to emphasize my point.

She makes a request that shocks me. "Only if you tell me what's bothering you while you do it."

My face must show my shock because there's a victorious look on hers. I stubbornly move my hand.

"No," she scolds me. "Tell me what Bernadette said. That's when it started."

"She's blackmailing me. Just like you are right now. Well, not _just_ like."

"I'm not blackmailing you!" she says defensively.

"Yes, in a way you are, but I don't mind," I say and lightly kiss the hurt look off her face.

Knowing I've given her a little information, I take my reward and start moving my hand again.

"Talk," she commands. "How," (whine), "is she blackmailing you?"

I tell her. "She's threatened to side with Simon unless I can get Jesse to go out with her." I feel even better now.

"What?!" she exclaims, looking shocked for a second before what I'm doing distracts her again.

I smile and decide to keep talking while I continue to pleasure her. I like this game/idea.

"Mhm. I called Jesse, and he told me he and Marie are a couple. Isn't that nice?"

"Mmm... hm," she answers me absently.

Smiling still, I continue, "Yeah. So, naturally, he won't do it. I don't blame him, but now I'm afraid of what Bernadette will say in the lawsuit." This feels good.

"But..." she starts breathing heavily.

"I'll have to wait and see," I say when she doesn't continue. "Oh," I add, "and I'm stressed out about money."

"Oh," she says, and I think it was supposed to be in question, but she failed at it.

"Yeah. The bar, my employees, my bills, the lawsuit, something I want to buy... stuff like that." I do _not_ want to ruin the moment and tell her about wanting to buy a ring.

"You'll... be fine," she breathes.

"That's it other than I haven't made you come enough."

"Bryce..." she whines my name. "Why?"

"Because it really gets me off," I answer her quietly. "It's a pride thing." I push three fingers deeply into her, moving them rapidly.

She gasps, and our conversation is over as I watch her. I'm getting hard again, and I pull her hips against me and push back against her with a groan.

She lets go of my shoulders, and her arms splash into the water. I hold her completely while my hand never stops. _I am not done with you, Erin,_ I think as she comes. Then she goes as limp as a newborn kitten.

I lift her body in the water and put a knee on either side of me before I move her hips down on top of my shaft, burying myself inside her. Then I let her torso rest against mine. She very quietly whines my name a few times as I do this, but I silently maintain my plan.

I stay still while her wet body takes deep breaths. In the meantime, I let my hands wander up and down her back, brushing her hair aside and getting it under some semblance of control.

_You just_ thought _you were thoroughly fucked,_ I think as I plan on teaching her the meaning of that phrase. I need her to recover a little first.

Without falling asleep on me.

"Wake up, Erin. I'm not done with you yet," I command in a low voice. She stirs a little, but she doesn't fully wake up. If the water didn't get in the way, I'd slap her exquisite ass to get her to wake up. I lift her mostly-unconscious body and rock myself into her while moving her hips myself. This isn't my thing to fuck an unconscious woman. She needs to wake up!

I start sucking on her earlobe. That works. She stirs in a small complaint then lifts up on her forearms to face me and get my lips and teeth off her ear.

"Oh good. You're awake," I say cheekily up to her, continuing to move her body for her.

"Bryce, please," she begs.

I smile. "You said you were thoroughly fucked earlier, my beautiful Erin. I'm proving to you that you weren't... yet." I groan softly as she tightens around me.

"You meant it... when you said... you could go all night," she breathes, starting to help me move her.

"Of course I did," I say, knowing I could go again after this time.

"I'm so tired," she states quietly.

"One more time, baby. Please." _More stress equals more need to fuck._ "I need it," I finish and languidly kiss her neck. She nods a quiet assent, and I really get to work. I have to do almost all of it, but I don't mind one bit. She wakes up more as her body responds to me, and as she comes, I find my own release into her. Not surprisingly, she passes out on top of me when we're finished.

"I guess now you're thoroughly fucked, my beautiful Erin," I whisper into her ear even though she's asleep.

I smile and move to lift her out of the hot tub with me while I exit. There's a split second where I fear I'll slip, but I manage not to, thank goodness. Then I wearily carry her up the stairs and get her settled into my bed.

Looking down at her, I smile again and tuck her hair behind her ear to get it out of her face.

"I love you," I say quietly to her and gently kiss her sleeping lips before I lie down next to her and pull her close.

# Chapter 17: On the Phone

### Jesse

It's Monday, and I get off work in a few hours. I told Marie I'd see her all day tomorrow, so I'm not going over to her house tonight. I think this might kill me. I _have_ to prove to myself that I _can_ keep my distance, however.

Who knew that woman was such a temptress? The very second... the very _second_ I told her I wanted to wait for her sake, she started trying to get me to go against what I promised. I thought last night would be the end of me. She learns fast.

_Dammit, Marie! I want our relationship to be sweet and romantic! I've done the hot and heavy plenty enough. Now that I want to take it slow with someone, that_ someone _wants to jump right into it._

Except the thing is is that I notice those times that I do push it a little, she acts nervous, but she refuses to acknowledge it.

And good God, I'm going to hurt her. I can't stand that thought. I've had women who _weren't_ virgins that I've hurt a little. They liked it, but... yeah. I can't do that to Marie.

My cell phone buzzes in my pocket.

hey

I grin like a loon. It's Marie, of course.

Before I can send a response, she sends me another text:

i'm bored

I pause a moment to think up a response.

Read a book.

i don't have any

Watch TV

there is nothing good on

Oh no. I know her game. _I am not coming over, Marie!_

why won't you come over?

Because I'm not. Aren't you sick of me already?

no. i have nothing to do since the things i like to do, i have to be able to move around

Immediately, my mind snaps to a picture of Marie unable to move while tied up to my bed.

I can think of something that you'd enjoy that you'd be unable to move around.

_Shit!_ I think quickly, wishing I hadn't have hit send.

oh? what's that?

I take a deep breath. _No._

Let me call you when I get home after I've finished closing the store.

that's ridiculous. come over instead

_No. Your headboard is too convenient,_ I think, remembering her bed.

I don't send her a reply, and she stays quiet on her end.

When I get home, I call her as promised. I wanted to make sure I got home before I called so that I wouldn't be as tempted, I hope, to go over to her place instead.

"You're being ridiculous," she says as a way to answer her phone.

"No, I'm not. I'm being ludicrously romantic." _I don't want to hurt you._

"But I like it better when you're here," she whines, but it's really cute, not annoying.

"I'm determined, Marie," I say sternly.

"Hm," she breathes, and I wonder what she's up to. "You know those panties you stole from me?"

"If you mean the ones that you left in my possession, yes," I answer, curious.

"I have a pink pair just like those black ones," she tells me. "And I'm wearing them right now," she whispers at the end.

"And instantly, I'm hard. Thanks, Marie," I answer somewhat sarcastically.

"It's your fault. Don't blame me," she tells me, and I imagine her shrugging.

"How can I possibly blame anyone _but_ you if there's someone to blame?"

"Because it's your fault that you won't come over."

"So this is my punishment for not coming over?"

"Oui," she giggles out. It's that super-sexy giggle that makes me crazy.

"Well, I could just let it go away. Or... I could take care of it myself," I answer her and wonder what she's going to make of that.

She gasps, and I know it's fake. "That's not fair."

"No, what's not 'fair' is you doing this to me."

"Me doing this to you? All I did was tell you about my panties."

I groan and decide to torture myself. "Are they just like them?"

"They're exactly like them except that they're pink. I liked the black ones better, but pink is okay."

I dash up to my bedroom to get her panties from their hiding place.

"You know, I bet I like the black ones better too. It helps that they're in my hand right now." I lie down on my stomach on my bed before I decide that's a bad idea and roll over onto my back with her panties on my face. "Hey, you know what, Marie?" I ask.

"What?"

I loudly whisper, "I didn't wash the panties."

Her gasp is real this time. "You pervert!" she accuses. 'Pervert' sounds cute with her accent.

"You got it, baby. You really have no idea just how perverted I can be. Having your used panties on my face is only the tip of the iceberg." She's dishing it out. She can take it.

"On your face?!"

"Mhm. Right up on my nose," I breathe in loudly through my nose so that she can hear it. "Mm. So good."

She stays silent, and I smile.

Then she says quietly, "The real thing is right here waiting for you."

_Fuuuuuuuccccck!_ I think loudly as my body screams at me for wanting her yet not having her. That was the _last_ thing I expected to hear. Here I thought I had her shocked then she pulls that on me. The woman is too brave for her own good.

"Jesse? Are you still there?" she asks with false innocence.

"You know good and damn well I'm still here," I lightly growl.

"I'd hoped you'd left your house and were coming over here," she says, and I can picture her pouting.

I pull her panties off my face. I don't need them added to everything happening to me anymore. I have to do something quick or I _will_ get in my car, drive over there, and pounce on her.

I take in a deep breath and order, "Touch yourself, Marie." I don't know how this is really going to help, but I feel the tiniest bit better.

"What?" she breathes.

"You know what. Do it." I take another deep breath and add, "Put your hand inside those pink panties and touch yourself."

"Right now?" she asks, stalling. I know she's stalling. "While talking on the phone to you?"

"Put me on speaker if you need to, but do it. Right now."

"I'd rather you did it."

"Not tonight."

"Why should I do as you say?" she asks belligerently.

"Because I told you to. Now, do it!"

"Non, Jesse. You come over here and _make_ me do it."

I unzip my shorts and grasp myself. "Mm, no. I'm busy with myself, thinking about you touching yourself," I say in a low voice. "Do it, Marie," I command.

The other end of the line gets quiet, and I get curious.

"Are you touching yourself, Marie?"

The only response I get is a shaky exhale. I smile.

"Inside your panties, Marie," I remind her. I can easily see her cheating.

"That's... messy," she lightly whines.

"Oh yeah, it is. That's what makes it so damn good. Get messy for me." _Phone sex with a neat freak,_ I think with a goofy grin.

She lets out a little, frustrated noise, and I know she hasn't done what I've asked.

"I know you haven't done it yet," I warn.

"How do you know?"

"I just do, and you just confirmed it. Get those fingers wet, Marie. Pretend they're mine." I absentmindedly stroke myself as I listen intently to the other end of the line.

"I'm _very_ wet, Jesse. Just from the sound of your voice," she purrs.

_Oh God, I'm going to die! How the_ fuck _has this woman stayed a virgin?!_ I scream inside my head as I take a deep breath and swallow a tortured whimper. Right now, I'm so horny I could hump a cactus. Good thing the island has very few of those.

"Stroke your sweet spot with those wet fingers," I command, and she makes a little whine. "Slowly," I add.

"Slowly?"

"Yes. Very slowly." I close my eyes and picture her in my mind, and my mouth starts watering.

"I don't want slowly."

"I said slowly, dammit," I growl when I hear her breathing pick up in pace.

"Make me," she growls back in a voice that nearly pushes me over the edge. She's still breathing fast and heavy, and I calculate just how quickly I could get over there. Martha's not known for her speed.

"Marie, slow down," I beg, but I hear her cry out as, obviously, an orgasm takes her. _That saucy bitch left me behind!_ I think in an almost-playful way. I take a deep breath and say, "Oh, you are in so much trouble." I grin as I listen to her catch her breath.

"Mm? What's Daddy going to do to me?" she breathes.

_Shit, she called me Daddy!!_ I think and lose it all over my stomach.

I hear her giggling as I take my turn catching my breath. _A little... bitty... girl just... made me... lose control like that! Me! Is this what I get for waiting?_

I start devising ways to make things easier for her so that I don't hurt her as bad.

No, I want things simple, dammit!

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," I say now that I can talk clearly.

She whines. Then she asks, "I'll have you all day?"

Is this the same woman that claimed once that she was going to sleep all day just to make me leave her alone?

_Of course, we_ are _only on the phone. Still..._ Memories assail me when I think about yesterday and her wanting to give me a hand job. It took all my willpower to stop her. I'm crazy.

"Yes," I promise her. "I have the whole day planned." _Maybe I could take out that last part of the plan and change it to bringing her back here to my hot tub. My very... relaxing ... hot tub._

...

I'm insane for thinking I can wait.

Maybe it'll be better in the morning after I've had some sleep.

"Then I'll go to sleep since I'm a little tired now," she says with fake nonchalance.

_Yes, get lots of fucking sleep, Marie. Damn, you are in trouble._ We say our goodnights, and I have trouble going to sleep as I debate changing my plans for tomorrow.

# Chapter 18: Speaking of Torture

### Marie

I wake up and stretch. It feels so good to be able to properly stretch again. My knee has been doing much better, and I can make short trips on it without my crutches. Jesse doesn't like me doing this, but he tries to keep himself from carrying me everywhere.

_Jesse,_ I think happily and stretch again. _I'm spending the whole day with him. I wonder what he has planned._

_He said I was in trouble,_ I think with a little jolt of excitement going through me like lightning. I giggle and decide to wear the dark blue panties just like the ones he stole. At the store, I found a style I liked and bought several. I miss my black ones.

I hear a knock at my door before I get a chance to put on my shorts. After peeking out my window for a second, I see it's him. I smile mischievously, toss my shorts on the bed, and go answer the door with nothing but my shirt and panties on.

"Hey." I say and work very hard at keeping a straight face.

His eyes go right to my bare legs, and he says, "You're not using your crutches."

"Mm mm." I make a negative noise as I shake my head no. "I don't need them unless I get real tired. I can almost-"

_Yes!_ I think as Jesse takes one step inside my house and attacks me before kicking the door closed. I don't care that he interrupted me as I entwine my arms around his neck.

His hands come down to cup my ass, and he groans when he discovers my underwear.

"I thought... you had on... short shorts," he says while kissing my neck. I guess my shirt covered up more than I thought.

"You arrived before I finished dressing," I explain. I really like the way his hands massage my derriere, and I'm sure to make a low, appreciative groan.

"Minx," he accuses, and I laugh. My laugh turns into a squeal when he picks me up, and he carries me into my bedroom. He immediately puts me on my bed and goes down between my legs. "Oh, shit," he groans. "Only they're blue."

I giggle a little at his agonized tone. He's being ridiculous. For the first time in my life, I'm ready. The only problem is that Jesse wants to have an old-fashioned relationship where we take things slow. I've been doing everything I can to drive him insane. I tried to give him a hand job the other night, but he stopped me, much to my surprise.

He moves my underwear to the side and sticks his tongue down into me. The act takes me so much by surprise that I cry out and actually try to move away.

"Oh no you don't," he growls after lifting his head a small amount.

"You wanted slow, remember?" I gasp, suddenly shy again.

He reaches to the waistband of my panties and starts pulling them off. "Hmmm..." he says low in his throat like he's contemplating something. "Slow," he says in that same tone, and I get a little nervous. I hate that I'm nervous, but it's his fault. If it were up to me, I wouldn't _be_ a virgin anymore.

I feel the backs of my thighs brush against the cotton fabric of his shirt as he places my legs over him. Then I feel his warm tongue reach down to slowly lick me.

"Do you have tennis shoes?" he asks from between my legs, and I can feel his breath on me.

"Running shoes?" I ask. I think that's what he means.

"Yes."

"Yes," I answer, and he leaves me to look under my bed.

"Ah hah!" he exclaims happily, and I hear what sounds like him pulling the laces out of them.

"What are you doing?" I have to ask.

"Getting some string," he says as he pulls out the laces while he hums.

"Why do you need the laces?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I think I've guessed why.

"You have a great headboard, Marie. So many different places to do this," he states while tying the laces together at the ends with a knot to make one long lace.

"Jesse..." I say, unable to finish my sentence. I'm having difficulty breathing from the look in his eyes.

"You know what, Marie?" he asks when he sees that I'm not going to say anything else. "This isn't what I'd planned on doing first thing this morning. I'd hoped we could go grab breakfast at the diner," he states. "But then you answer the door in your panties... in some just like my favorites and like the ones you tortured me with by making me think about them last night." He puts his knees on the bed and starts coming towards me. "So, you've distracted me totally off breakfast." He looks dangerous as he grabs one of my arms and continues to crawl on top of me.

"We can go eat breakfast," I point out with wide eyes.

"I'm no longer interested in what's on the menu at the diner," he states as he grabs my other hand, confirming my suspicions about what he wants to do with that shoelace. "There's only one thing I have an appetite for." My shock keeps me from stopping him as he, very quickly, too quickly, binds my wrists together tightly.

I gasp and look up at my wrists while I feel Jesse's hands on my waist, pulling up my shirt. He lifts it over my head and pushes it up to my wrists, making me completely bare underneath him.

"Breakfast at Chez Marie." he says huskily after pulling up one of my knees. He looks up, sees me struggling against the shoelace, and says, "Don't pull too hard. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I..." I don't know what to say as I look down at him with wide eyes.

"Do you trust me, Marie?" he asks with his eyes looking at me intently before he lazily kisses my knee.

_Do I?!_ I think in a bit of a panic. I start breathing fast. I've never been tied up before. I rampantly think of all the ways I could take him out with only my legs, but I know he doesn't want to harm me.

He moves up to make his face level with mine and crouches over me. I'm terrified, and in the back of my mind, I'm furious that I'm terrified.

His lips gently caress mine, and I feel the looser fabric of his shirt graze my breasts as he hovers above me. Then he kisses me deeply before pulling back again and going gentle once more. He does this several more times before leaving my mouth to kiss my neck.

I ask, "Why tie me up?"

I feel him smile against my skin as he answers, "Because I wanted to show you what I meant when I mentioned something you would like and not be able to move around. Remember?"

_The text._ "I would like?"

"Yes," he replies. "Please, trust me, Marie," he says and kisses me again.

I close my eyes and work at slowing down my breathing. Without the use of my hands, I feel exposed and helpless.

But this is Jesse!

"Marie?" he asks, and he sounds very worried.

"Okay," I manage as a whisper.

He exhales like a sigh of relief and kisses me again. I want to thread my fingers into his hair, but I can't. The desire to touch him is so automatic that I have difficulty reminding myself to try not to get hurt from the shoelace. The hypnotic way his body moves above me makes me want to touch him even more, however.

Jesse's hands! Oh, his hands... the way they touch me as they travel over my body like they're covering more area than they actually are. I get so distracted by them that I feel surprised any time his lips or teeth do something new. Normally, I'd want to run my hands down his arm, but he touches me without restraint. The fact that I can't stop him makes it feel so much more erotic.

"Marie," he groans into my stomach while his hands run up and down my sides. Then he turns his head and lays his cheek on my belly while wrapping his arms around me. "Ma Marie. Je t'adore."

A small tear escapes my eye as I wish I could verbally return his feelings, but he doesn't act like he expects anything. Instead, he sighs happily and lets his hands roam where they may.

"My stomach is growling," he states mischievously, and his head moves down while he eagerly parts my legs. "You know what I'm hungry for, don't you?" he asks in a teasing tone.

I finally find a little bravery in the midst of all of this. "What you wouldn't come and get last night." I answer and smile at the mild shock on his face.

He recovers and says, "Last night. ...Last night... hmm..." He pretends to try to remember something, and I roll my eyes. "That's right. You're in trouble. I got distracted. Thanks for reminding me."

I cry out when he presses down on that sensitive spot, hard, with his tongue and circles it around, dragging me with it. I desperately want to hold onto something: a pillow, the sheets, his hair, _something_! But of course, I can't! I let out several cries as the pleasure builds and builds.

And then he stops.

My eyes fly open in shock from this unexpected twist, and I pant while I mentally hear what sounds like a jet engine powering down. I groan. _Why did he stop?_

"Nope," he says, stressing the 'p.' "I told you you're in trouble."

_Mon Dieu._ "No. No, Jesse. I'll go crazy. I'm _going_ crazy!"

He brings his face level with mine and says a little harshly, "Good! You. Have. Been. Driving. Me. Insane, Marie!" He pants a few times. "I wanted simple! I wanted to take things slow, but you've been tempting me at every turn. Don't you know how turned on I am simply by being _near_ you?" His voice gets gentler as he says, "I'm amazed by how skilled you already are at pushing me over the edge. Exhibit A." He gestures to my tied up body. "Not what I had planned. But I couldn't help myself. I'm aggravated at how little self-control I possess around you. Me! I'm the one that's supposed to know what he's doing and control himself, and I wind up doing what I tell myself not to do."

His lips crash onto mine, and I worry about his frustrated state. When he gives me a chance to, I whisper, "I'm sorry."

Jesse wilts on top of me, his head landing on my shoulder. I can feel the hard bulge in his shorts pressing into my thigh as we both lie here doing nothing but breathing.

Jesse breaks the silence. "I want you, Marie. So. Bad." He lifts up to look down at me so he can say, "All you have to do is say the word, and I'll make love to you right now."

_Holy crap!_ I think and breathe fast while Jesse watches me like a hawk. "I'm tied up. What's stopping you?"

His lips twitch together for a split second like he's a little mad before he answers, "You are." He watches me some more, his face showing a calmer expression. "I wanted to take you to see a waterfall after breakfast before things got too hot outside. But I'd love to make you so wet that you're dripping. It'll help."

I start breathing faster again as I feel like everything is closing in on me. _He's offering me exactly what I've said I want. Why can't I just tell him to do it? I'm ready, damn it! I am!_

Am I?

"I'll let you think about it," he says and starts suckling me.

_Think?! How can I "think" like this?!_ I think as I cry out when his hand reaches up to tweak and play with my other nipple. Again, I want to put my hands in his hair. _Oh, as soon as I'm able, I'm going to do nothing but run my fingers through his hair for hours!_ "Ah!" I let out as he increases the pressure with his tongue going crazy inside his mouth against me. Little noises escape me, and I squirm below the waist as much as I'm able.

He leaves one side for the other, leaving that side extra-sensitive. When his other hand reaches up to toy with it, I cry out again. Then I realize he has the other one in his mouth and is tugging on that one too.

I start saying his name repeatedly in different ways: in warning, begging, crying, and sighing. More whimpering gets added to that as that intense need builds between my legs. _From this?_

"Oh-oh-oh-oh," I say in a broken voice as my hips jerk forward into nothingness again and again.

Jesse groans, leaves my breasts, and goes down between my legs to lick up the wet fluids coming out of me. _Oh, that's gross. Why does it feel so good?_

I reach a state of mind that I'm no longer aware of what's around me, and the center of my universe is where Jesse's tongue caresses me. I've already had an orgasm, but he keeps going anyway! _Did he know?_

"Jesse," I breathe, "I..." _I can't say it. Yes I can._ "I came already."

"Mhm," Jesse makes a noise into me from the back of his throat, not saying any more because his lips are busy. _He knows. And he's not stopping._

In pleasuring myself, I'd never gone past my climax before. I didn't see the point. That Jesse isn't stopping is completely foreign to me. That I'm loving it is humbling in its own way.

I continue to ride the small waves of pleasure as Jesse plays with me in an unhurried way.

After some time has gone by, he lifts his head to ask, "Have you thought about it?"

My eyes widen as I realize I had forgotten to think about it. Jesse smiles knowingly up at me and works his way up my belly, past my breasts, and he stops at my neck to lick and bite at me. Unexpectedly, he reaches up and works at untying the shoelace from around my wrists.

The second my hands are free, they're in his hair. "Never cut your hair," I say as my hands attack his scalp.

He smiles a little in confused surprise like that was the last thing he expected to hear, and I don't blame him. "Okay," he says simply before his gaze upon me darkens, and he roughly jerks me to him and claims my mouth in a crazed frenzy.

My pulse beats out of control as I try to keep up with him, my hands in his hair of course, but he keeps up that crazy frenzy of his, only pausing to lift his shirt up over his head and off. We both groan from the skin-to-skin contact as he kisses me like he never left.

I'm not ready.

The thought slips into my mind unbidden, and I immediately try to push it out. Self-doubt starts to eat at me as Jesse treats me like... like a full-grown man would treat me if he wanted to make love to me imminently. I whimper as the fear takes root and grows. I feel like Jesse's out of my league and merely pulling me along.

"No," I whine and cry, not just to Jesse but to the feeling I have because I also know the feeling is right.

Jesse jerks his head back. "No?" he asks, and the look on his face shows his extreme concern. He takes several huffing breaths as I can tell he's trying to calm himself while he watches me to see if my 'no' is that kind of a 'no.' It is.

I feel so stupid. My hands cover my eyes so that I don't have to look at his crestfallen expression. I can still hear him panting heavily for a few more seconds before he groans and holds me close. I'm glad he doesn't force me to move my hands.

"I'm sorry," I eep out.

I feel Jesse's chin on the top of my head before he says, "It's okay."

It's not okay, but thank you for pretending that it is.

He continues with his statement. "There were two choices there, and you picked no."

I say very quietly, "But I'm sorry I answered the door in my panties."

He laughs a nice, relaxed laugh before he says, "You can answer the door in your panties anytime you want. You'd just better expect a reaction like that if you do."

"That's what I wanted at first," I admit.

"Was it the tying up thing?" he asks. "Or was it that I scared you just now?"

He wants to know why I said no. Well, I guess that's reasonable. "The tying up was, uh, okay."

"Really?" he asks, sounding excited in an almost-humorous way. Then, I can tell he calms himself down before he asks, "So, it was just now?"

"But there was nothing _wrong_ with just now!" I cry out, angry at myself.

"Marie, I was full-on, not-going-to-take-no-as-an-answer just now, and yet I'm happy that I _did_ take no for an answer. So, yes. Just now was different."

"I feel so stupid."

"You're not."

"But I feel it."

He makes a growling noise while holding my head and kissing my hair. "This is why I wanted simple."

"I think that's impossible," I say. "I can't help myself."

He groans and says, "And dammit if I don't love it. Even the torture."

"The torture?"

"Like you talking about your pink panties last night."

I finally smile. "Oh. Yeah. I was a little mad at you for not coming over even if you've been over every night... until you leave."

"So it _was_ deliberate torture," he says and takes a deep breath, and I feel his chest move against me. "Marie... you need to get some clothes on. Speaking of torture."

"Okay," I say simply and move to roll away from him. His arms tighten around me, and I look up at him, confused, and see him staring intently back at me.

"I said you need to. I didn't say I wanted you to," he answers to the question in my eyes. Then he kisses me in a very loving way and rolls us so that he's on top of me again. He groans and starts rocking his hips against me.

I think I worry about the wrong things. I can't help it.

"Jesse! Your shorts are going to be messy," I pant out as he kisses my neck.

"Okay. I'll fix that," he says and lifts up a little to take them off before landing back on me again in nothing but his boxers.

"That's not what I meant!"

He chuckles into my hair as he rocks me side-to-side so that he can successfully get his arms around me. My arms get trapped at my sides, and I don't like that. I make a little complaining noise.

"What?" he asks as he parts my legs and moves between them.

I decide to tell him exactly what I want. "I want my hands in your hair."

"Ooohhh, and since I'm holding you like this, you can't."

"Yes."

"Well, good in a way. That means something's driving you crazy too," he responds and tightens his arms around me before rhythmically moving his hips against mine like he's done once before.

"Ah!" I cry out to the pleasure and frustration. "You're doing this on purpose!"

"You bet your ass I'm doing this on purpose! I'm still abiding by your 'no,' but I'm desperate for a grey area," he groans. "I guess my boxers are going to get _very_ messy, Marie, because I'd better not take them off," he says like he's reading my mind. "Shit! You're so wet I can't stand it!" he exclaims and starts pushing his hips harder onto me.

"Jesse..." I say, worried that he'll forget all about my 'no' and do it anyway.

"Oh god, Marie. Please don't make me stop!" he yells desperately.

The pleasure is incredible, and I really want my hands in his hair. "I want your hair!" I cry out in a very unguarded way.

He growls, "I want your pussy."

I don't have time to be shocked because his mouth attacks mine, demanding that I respond to his tongue. His hips start moving really fast, and I cry out into his mouth. He acts like he likes that, so he stubbornly refuses to leave my mouth alone while his hips continue to gyrate against me at a ludicrous tempo.

He groans into my mouth when my hips push forward into him. I'm unable to make a sound. My mouth still opens in a soundless cry as Jesse slowly keeps moving.

Finally, I can take a breath, and I let out a long, tortured cry while Jesse keeps making my hips move on their own.

"Oh, fuck! I need it! Marie! Oh god, don't let me!" he screams in agony.

"The only way to stop you would hurt you real bad!" I loudly whine to him. I reach around him and dig my nails into his back.

He jerks his arms out from around me, grabs my wrists, and pins them on either side of my head. The look in his eyes makes him look like he's gone completely crazy, like he's going to take me anyway.

My eyes widen, and I shake my head no really fast before I say, "No, Jesse. No."

"What would you do?" he asks as he demonstrates his ability to fully pin me down, legs included, using all his weight and strength.

"Something!" I cry. "I'm terrible when I panic!" I admit. I have no real idea right now how I could physically escape him, and I'm very near panicking.

Jesse starts shaking from, I guess, trying to restrain himself. He lets go of my wrists and grabs my head to kiss me deeply. My hands get drawn to his hair like magnets as he starts moving again.

"We're taking a shower together after this," he says to the rhythm of his hips. Then he watches my face when he picks up his tempo again.

I finally and bravely meet his eyes and I, thankfully, see that he's a little more in control of himself. I look away.

"Look at me, Marie," he commands, and I do. He holds my gaze before blinking slowly as I feel warmth pool around my stomach while he groans my name. _Oh._

"I love you," he says like he's talking in his sleep and starts kissing me everywhere. "I'm sorry I nearly lost it," he mumbles again. He sounds full of sorrow says, "Oh god. I made you panic. I can't stand this, Marie!"

"No, Jesse. You stopped." I hug his head to my chest and run my fingers through his hair.

"I tried to want to keep it simple. I tried to make myself believe that I would be okay, but the truth is that I want you. Still do right this second, but it's not as bad right now. What kind of a monster am I that I can't keep it simple?"

I kiss the top of his head before I say, "Let me do it. I'll stop trying to tempt you. It's my fault."

He starts kissing my neck as he groans and says, "You realize that only makes me want to seduce you even more, don't you?" He doesn't wait for me to answer as he quickly gets up and scoops me off the bed to carry me into the bathroom.

# Chapter 19: Stark Raving Mad

I sit next to the tidal pool and stare down into the water while Jesse has run off to get something. We decided that my knee couldn't take even a small hike to the waterfall he wanted to show me due to the uneven terrain.

My mind goes back to our shower earlier. I'd never showered with anyone else before, much less a man. I blush as I remember how I let him wash me and the lovingly tender way he did it. I think he was trying to make up for his previous actions. Hm. Either that, or he simply felt like being that way.

I have never felt so loved, and it's impossible not to love him back. I wish I could figure out how to tell him. I'm not like him; I can't just blurt it out in a drunken phone call.

I've never been real good with deep emotions or the idea that someone could love me. My dad was the first one I ever felt really loved me, and I lost him for a while when Mom divorced him. He wasn't himself, and although I could tell he tried to remain my 'dad,' he still emotionally curled into himself after the divorce. My mom never loved me. I don't know why the hell she adopted me in the first place if the first thing she wanted to do was send me off to boarding school. Before she married Dad, I never even had my own room. Dad had to teach her how to be a good parent. All of that contributed to me building a tough shell around myself. The only one I let get emotionally close to me was Daniel. Armand? forget it. André got almost as close, but not as much as Daniel. Then, he betrayed me.

I believe Jesse when he tells me he loves me. I can see it in his eyes. I think Jesse was simply ready to fall in love, and I'm the lucky girl that he chose. How else can I explain how it happened so fast?

I glance in the direction he disappeared, and I smile when I see that he's on his way back to me.

He's. So. Gorgeous. I want to make out. Right now. Hurry up, Jesse.

Wait. It'll just happen again. We'll make out, and I'll be too afraid to let it go further.

_Jesse doesn't want simple anymore._ I'm _the one that has to slow_ him _down._ I bite my lip as my insides quiver in apprehension when I think about that.

He looks up and smiles at me from where he walks towards me. I like how I immediately feel a little better. That's what I need: his smile.

"I couldn't find it. I guess I left it at home," he says.

"What was it?"

"A beach umbrella. It's really getting hot out here."

"Then why don't we swim a little?" I ask while I sneak glances at his gloriously-bare chest when he sits in the sand next to me. I don't know why I feel like I have to sneak them, but I do.

"That water's probably hotter than the air temperature. And besides, your knee isn't fully healed, and you seem determined to hurt yourself again."

" _You're_ the one that got the bright idea to take me to see a waterfall," I tease.

"Well, I thought about carrying you some of the way, but you're right. That was a crazy idea."

"I bet your swimming pool would cool us off," I mention suggestively.

"Yeah, but if we do that, the tour of the island is over," he says.

I shrug. "That's okay. Maybe someday when it's not so very hot."

He scoots closer to me, and I hold my ground as he leans in and says quietly, "You look so hot saying the word 'hot.'" Then he smiles a little before slowly kissing me, lingering over my lips like he has all day. I guess that's because he does. When he pulls back, he says, "I'm not listening to any arguments about me carrying you back to Martha."

I roll my eyes, but he keeps talking anyway.

"There are too many little holes for you to trip in," he finishes.

"I made it up here just fine," I retort.

True to his word, he ignores me and leans over to pick me up. He doesn't listen as I berate him about possibly hurting his back with the way he lifted me.

"Jesse, this is ridiculous," I complain before he gently, and finally, places me on my own two feet right next to his car.

"No, it's not. It's romantic."

"You're a romantic," I playfully accuse.

He grins a little and replies, "I try... when I'm not going stark raving mad with lust."

I should've expected it from the way he's holding me, but his lips crashing into mine still takes me by surprise. His fingers splay out on my back so that he touches both the top and bottom of my swimsuit at once. I feel him grow a bit harder as he presses himself against my hip, and I shyly push him away, pissing myself off a little as I do it.

He lets me go, and I hear his almost silent sigh of frustration as he opens the passenger side door for me before motioning me inside. I get in and immediately roll down the window. It's as hot as hell in here, and Jesse either has no A/C or it doesn't work.

"When my cousin was little, she used to say 'It's as hot as a chicken on a daisy!'" Jesse says in a thick accent and laughs before starting the car.

I pull my head back a little in surprise. This is the first time Jesse has ever mentioned his family in any way to me. Of course, I realize he has to have a family somewhere, but I still picture him as a solitary entity because he never mentions them.

"I guess that applies for today," I say with a small smile as we pull out of the parking lot, and I feel grateful for the small breeze the moving car makes. "I have no idea why a chicken on a daisy would be hot though."

"Neither do I," he tells me and laughs again.

We take a dip in his pool. I don't do much swimming to not overwork my knee even if swimming is probably the best exercise for it since it's zero impact. It still aches, so I happily float on the water for a long period of time on a floating lounger he has.

"Are you gonna do nothing but lay there all day?" Jesse asks after he swims up to me. He'd gone inside to do goodness knows what for a while. I have no idea what he was up to.

I lazily look over at my boyfriend, and I don't trust his expression. "Yes, and if you flip this thing over, you'll regret it. I'm _resting_."

"You make it so tempting," he replies with a wicked grin. Still grinning, he rotates my float to where he's got my feet in his face.

He starts sucking my toes.

I gasp and sit straight up. "Jesse!"

We've reached the shallow end, and he suddenly stands up while moving the raft and grabs me around my waist to drag me off it.

"I didn't flip you out of it," he claims with that silly grin still on his face before he kisses me.

"I was comfortable," I retort when he moves to my jawline.

"You were too hot... for me to leave you alone," he says into my neck as he lowers us into the water. He feels magnificent up on me the way he is in the pool with his warm hands traveling all over me. I let him hold me up in the water because I realize he's probably worrying about my stupid knee.

The water is _cold_ even though the sun blazes down upon us, and that only makes me want to cling to him more. I love the warm feel of his sun-kissed shoulders before my hands slip back down into the cool water to move over his back only to reach down and grab his derriere. He groans into my mouth, and I can tell he's really getting turned on.

The sound of someone crying hard gets carried over to us on the wind, and we both pause in confusion for a second before we realize it's not the other one of us.

"Who?" he asks before turning his head in the direction of the fence that blocks my boss's house from view. He gets up and lifts me up to sit at the edge of the pool before hopping out of it himself and going over to see what's going on. "Erin," he says in confused concern.

"What's going on?" I ask as I start to carefully stand up. When I make it over to him, I can just barely see over the fence that Erin sits in a lounge chair, crying hard. Bryce walks outside, and Erin folds herself in half where she sits as she keeps crying. "We shouldn't spy on them," I state when I see Bryce comforting her.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Jesse admits with a slow smile spreading across his face. "Not those two, but..."

"You've watched?" I ask, appalled.

He turns to me and clarifies, "With his permission."

Jesse looks like he's really entertained by my mouth dropping wide open in shock.

"Sometimes, one of us would tell the others what to do," he tells me, probably to shock me more.

My mind reels with this information about my boss and boyfriend.

"You let him tell you what to do."

"Gave me a few pointers. I did the same for him as well," he answers me with a smirk.

"I think you're enjoying telling me this too much," I state, starting to get mad.

"Not _too_ much, just right. Your expression is precious."

I get mad at what he said, and I want to punch him. The only problem is that I'd need a good stance, and I can't do that with a hurt knee. Plus, I've noticed I often forget everything I've been taught when I'm with Jesse like this. I start fighting him like a girl to get out of his embrace anyway.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not precious," I growl, finally remembering some of what my dad taught me.

"To me, you are," he says a little too seriously, somehow blocking all my attempts to get free. Without my feet like I need them to be, I have no strength! "Stop, Marie. You're going to hurt yourself."

"Let go of me," I snarl. I, again, feel too ignorant, and it makes me mad.

"No," he tells me firmly. "Stop," he now whispers like he's in pain.

With a frustrated cry, I pound once on his chest and wilt into him.

He does nothing but hold me for a minute before he says in quiet observation, "You fight me hardest when you're uncomfortable or embarrassed. I'm sorry. I was having a little fun, and I didn't think how you'd take it." I say nothing, and I feel him turn his head before he says, "Looks like Bryce and Erin have made up. Let's go inside." He irritates me when he picks me up and carries me into the house.

"You carry me around like I'm a child," I say once we're inside.

"I carry you because your knee is still hurt no matter what you think, and I like to. You're no child," he points out succinctly as he places me on his couch and lies down on top of me. Without pausing, his lips claim mine again. I happily thread my fingers into his hair until he pulls them out of it to hold them above my head in one of his hands.

He groans, and his hand reaches up under my swimsuit top to fondle my breast, his thumb dragging across my nipple. That simple act makes me squirm underneath him.

"Be still," he says against my lips, and I feel a little surprised at how seriously he says it.

"I can if you don't do that," I respond while he kisses my neck, his thumb never stopping. I swallow back a whine.

"Be still anyway," he suggests as he mercifully leaves my breast to work on undoing my top. I happily return my freed fingers to his hair. "It's always harder to do after it gets wet," he says cryptically. "Dammit."

"What?"

"Square knots," he replies. Then he lets out a relieved sigh as he undoes the knot around my neck. He reaches back behind me and undoes that simple tie in one second before quickly tossing aside my top. Without wasting any time, he claims a nipple in his mouth for a while. When he moves back up to my lips, his hips settle between my thighs _there_ , and we groan simultaneously before he swoops down on my mouth to kiss me hard while his hips start moving.

A strange shaking takes control of me as Jesse applies a lot of force behind his movements. The small amount of fabric between us doesn't hide his aroused state one bit while he moves in small circles.

I let out a small cry from the intensity.

Jesse groans again. "Please, Marie."

Oh shit. Well, this explains the intensity.

"Simple," I say in a small voice.

"I very _simply_ want to make love to you," he counters.

"On the couch?" I ask incredulously to hopefully distract him.

"No, upstairs," he quickly answers before suddenly getting up and lifting me off the couch.

"Jesse! No!" I cry out and try to wiggle free.

"You don't want to go upstairs?" he asks facetiously.

"Put me down," I beg.

"Okay," he says and walks to the stairs.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm going to put you down," he answers simply.

"No!" I say, guessing he means on his bed. "On the floor!"

"Well now, that wouldn't be very comfortable. And you just said put you down. You didn't say where."

By this time, we've made it to his bed, and he -puts me down- on it. He doesn't give me a second to even growl at him angrily before he's all over me. My bikini bottoms disappear. I barely feel them scrape by my knees before he throws them across the room behind him.

"Mmm!" I yell in panic as my heart races along, and I push futilely against him while his lips still possess my mouth.

"I won't," he says in little breaks of his kissing me, "...do anything... you don't want me to do. ...But please want me to do it."

"Jesse, please stop!" I yell, and he stills on top of me.

He exhales and pushes his forehead into the mattress next to my head. He relaxes a tiny bit on top of me, and I feel pressed more into the mattress. It's strangely not unpleasant.

After taking a deep breath, Jesse says, "I'm going too fast."

"Yes," I agree quietly, and it dawns on me that I probably won't be a virgin by the time I get home tonight... or whenever I get home. All Jesse has to do is find the right angle, and what he just did wasn't it. I imagine him mentally checking them all as he goes down some list in his head.

Surprised with myself, I find I don't mind. I only hope that he can find some way without scaring the shit out of me.

So much for simple.

# Chapter 20: Fantastically Terrible

### Jesse

It has been way... way too long. I _must_ slow down.

Marie's lusciously-naked body stirs underneath me, and I want her so desperately that I can hardly think straight.

Control yourself, damn it! This is Marie! She's a fucking virgin, and there you go charging at her like some damn bull.

_Okay... so I'll stop charging,_ I think as I slowly run my tongue across her shoulder to her neck and up her neck to her jaw to across her jaw and into her sweet mouth. She lets out a little noise of warning, but I hopefully get across to her that I'm not as bat-shit crazy as I was a few minutes ago as I kiss her very gently.

I'm not going to apologize.

She starts shaking.

"I'm sorry," I say before I can stop myself, "...again."

"Just... calm down," she says quietly.

Calm down? Not stop? Not stop?!

"Do you need me to stop?" I ask and want to punch myself in the face. She stays silent for too long, so I look down at her. I see her biting her lip in indecision. "Marie?"

"I don't know," she says with a trace of panic in her voice, and that panic shoots straight into my heart.

"Okay," I say and decide to do nothing but wrap my arms around her and rest my head on her chest. Her heart hammers along at a fast pace, and I close my eyes to try to further calm myself down. I hate that I scared her. Twice in one day. I need to calm down.

I purposefully do nothing but hold her and breathe. I'd love to run my hand down between her legs... but no. No, I'm being good.

I work on relaxing, and an unknown amount of time goes by before she starts lazily running her fingers through my hair. I feel tempted to start making a purring noise, but I think that would be too weird for her.

She likes my hair. I like her running her fingers through it. That calms me better than anything else. I feel so relaxed in no time.

"Jesse." I hear Marie's voice beside me. I make a little groan, and she repeats my name. When I open my eyes, I see it's dark outside.

_Holy shit, I fell asleep!_ I think with my eyes wide.

"It's night?" I ask stupidly.

"It's dark outside, certainly," she answers, and I look at her for the first time since I woke up. She's still naked.

Parts of my anatomy ache as I run my hand up over her hip to her waist and around to her butt before I pull her to me. She lets out a tiny gasp before I claim her mouth.

_Please let me. I don't care if I have to go the slowest I've ever gone. I don't care if it takes forever. I just want you,_ I hopefully convey to her through my kiss. _There're ways to make this easier._ Suddenly, an idea that I had last night comes back to me.

"Well," I tell her, "since it's nighttime and hopefully not too hot outside, let's go skinny dipping in the hot tub." _Shit, please say okay._

"Alright," she says, and I mentally do a small fistpump.

This is going to be one of the hardest things I've ever had to endure, but I still want it. It's going to work.

I get up after I take my trunks off and reach to help her out of bed. She won't look directly at my dick, I notice, but I can't say I'm surprised. She growls at me when I pick her up, and I laugh a little.

"Get over it," I playfully chastise.

I let her get in the hot tub on her own, and just the act of watching her crouch down to get in makes me want to fall on my knees, crying and begging her.

Shit, Jesse. Pull yourself together!

I feel a tiny bit better with the warm water swirling around me, and I lay my head back and close my eyes.

"Don't go to sleep on me again," I hear Marie say in a teasing way.

"I'm not 'on you' this time," I answer with a small smile. _No, I want you on me._ I take another deep breath, listening to the water swirl around, and I get surprised by Marie kissing me.

After about two whole seconds of shock, my arms spring themselves around her like a bear trap. _She's_ kissing _me_. I exhale before kissing her back like I haven't seen her in weeks. One of my hands tangles itself into her hair while the other holds her ass to press her up against me as much as I can.

As I dip down to explore her neck again, she says, "I dreamed about this once."

I feel every cell in my body sit up and take notice. "Really?" I ask as calmly as I can manage.

"The morning before what I thought was supposed to be your first taekwondo lesson," she tells me.

"Mmm, all the more reason for me to regret thinking you cancelled," I say, smiling. I'm not letting go of her for the world.

"What I mean is," she starts up again, "that I even liked you then."

Nope, not gonna let go. "I hoped you did. So, what did we do in the dream?" I ask, curious.

"Pretty much this," she says breathlessly.

"Oh? That's all?" I'm guessing there's more she's not telling me. "Pretty much, huh."

"Um, well," _I knew it_ "there was," she moves her hips blessedly closer with one knee on either side, answering a question in my mind earlier as to whether or not her knee could take that. I notice she favors the other one though. She slides herself right up to my dick, and I swallow a groan as I tighten my hold of her. "This too." Her breathing gets rapid and shallow.

"Just like this?" I ask, curious about her dream and how far 'dream me' got.

"I know it's odd, but yes," she answers me sheepishly.

I immediately have to stop what I feel will quickly become a downward spiral into her insecurities, so I say, "This isn't odd." I ever so slightly tighten my grip before I decide to push her a little. "I know how we could make it better though." _I knew it. The tiniest pull away._ "If you feel like you can do it," I add, mentally patting myself on the back for issuing a challenge. I feel her move to look down at me as I lazily kiss her breasts.

"Do what?" _Yes!_

" _You_ do it, Marie. At your own speed. I'll help, but you're in charge." To emphasize my point, I position her right on top of my tip. Insanity knocks at the door, but I do my best to keep from answering. "Press yourself down on me." _Oh shit, I'm going to go crazy! So fucking close!_

She doesn't try to move away, but she doesn't move period as she asks, "But it will still hurt, won't it?"

A pathetic whimper slips out of me, but I decide that maybe she needs to hear it. "I wish I could say no, but yes, it will. It will no matter when because you're so tiny and I'm... not. Please, Marie, this is the best way, I think." I tighten my grip of her hips as insanity gets me for a second or two before I regain control. I realize I'd tilted my hips up into her and held her still, pushing myself the tiniest bit into her. _Use it._ "Like that." I have to close my eyes and tilt my head back. If I look at her, I'll lose control. _Shit, Marie. Impale yourself on me_ _now_ _!_ I start shaking.

"What about a condom?" she asks, and I want to scream.

Instead of screaming, I very calmly say, "I don't want to use one. I want to _feel_ you."

"I'm not on birth control of any kind."

"We'll get a morning-after pill."

"Jesse... you... um..."

"What?!" I snap before I take a deep breath and repeat my question in a calmer way. I risk looking up at her face. I don't dare look lower.

"Have you always used condoms or have you... um..."

"I can't answer that one hundred percent, but Bryce and I would make it a rule to watch out for each other. Even shitfaced drunk I would use one apparently, but I don't know for certain when I was on my own." I finally get what she's asking when I say, "I get tested all the time, and it's all negative. Please, Marie." Stupid me looks down at where her hips float over me, and, shaking, I push her onto me the tiniest bit more.

"Jesse!" she gasps, and I release her hips so that I'm not tempted as much. I throw my hands out to hold the sides of the hot tub as she says, "You're shaking."

"Self-control... is not... one of my strong suits. ...Not with this." _Once in, yeah, but getting there is another story._ "Please, Marie. It won't hurt forever. I can promise you that." I take a breath and let it out. "Go as slow as you want, just _please_ ," I beg with my head thrown back again.

She pushes herself down and quickly gasps. _Such... perfect... torture!_ I think as I fist my hands where they're thrown off to the sides. "Oh," she whispers in pain, and it breaks my heart. She says my name in a small cry.

I forget my own torture as much as I can as I open my eyes and look at her with concern.

"I can't do this," she whispers.

My arms move around her, and I sit up a little as I say quickly, "Yes, you can. You are. You're doing _so_ good."

She starts shaking her head back and forth and mumbling in French. I catch her saying she can't.

"Yes, you can," I say real quick and pull her head down to me to kiss her. At first, she pushes against my shoulders, but soon her hands move up to hold my face as she kisses me back. As we move a little, she moves a tiny bit farther down my shaft, squeezing me in a fantastic vise. I'm there, and I hate myself for what I'm about to do.

"Breathe out hard," I quietly order. I watch her, and as soon as she does, I pull her down with a little force just enough to break her maidenhead.

She cries out from the surprise pain, and I hug her to me.

"Please. Be still," she whispers loudly as her breathing hisses back and forth.

I freeze as still as I possibly can while sitting in this hot tub. A whole minute goes by, and she's still acting like she's in pain.

"Marie?" I ask in a worried voice.

"Why did you do that?" she cries.

_Shit._ "To get it over with. That's the worst part."

"Why didn't you let me do it on my own like you said?"

_Oh no._ "I don't know other than I worried you wouldn't. I'm sorry. I didn't want you to have gotten that far, right there, only to stop and pull away." Since my arms are still around her, I hold her a little tighter. "Also, I thought that maybe if it was a surprise that you wouldn't tense up and make it worse."

"How many virgins have you had?" she asks blankly.

I look up at her and scowl, not sure why she would ask that, but I answer her anyway, "You're my fourth." _And you're not a virgin anymore._ I kiss her neck and worry that she's trying to trap me into saying something stupid that will make her mad. Then I swallow a groan as insanity lets me know it's still around when she tightens around me even tighter for a second before relaxing again. She does it again, and I have to stop kissing her to pant a little and keep myself from losing control.

She does it again.

"Marie!" I gasp. "Please try to keep from doing that."

"I'm just testing what you mean by tensing up."

I want to cry. _You had to figure that out?!_ "Does this mean you're better?"

"No, Jesse. This hurts like hell."

"I want to help. What do you think would help?" I ask desperately as I try to remain sane.

"I can't take any more," she says sadly.

_No!!!!!!_ "No, Marie, please," I beg and hold onto her tightly. Doing this pushes her farther down, and she cries out again. I pull her up quite a bit all things considering but not all the way. She whimpers like she's grateful I did that. She pushes against me like she wants to pull all the way off me, but I hold her tightly.

"Jesse..." she says in a questioning and accusing way.

"Like this, Marie," I encourage her before I lightly push myself into her the tiniest amount before pulling back again only to push in again a little more.

"It hurts," she cries, and I want to scream in frustration. One of my biggest fears about this is happening, and I can't stop it! I know if we could only keep going that eventually she'd stop hurting, and I want to get to that point.

A strange noise slips out of me before I say, "Please, baby. It won't hurt forever." I feel like a living cliché.

I put her feet out behind me as I slip off the bench while holding her hips and back and supporting her body on my thigh as I kneel under her. Once I move us, I let her rest on me for a little while.

"I wish I wasn't hurting you," I whisper lovingly into her ear. "I want you to that point that it doesn't hurt anymore."

She whimpers, and I run my hands up and down her back. The only thing keeping me from going crazy is the thought of her in pain. I feel so good right now, but I feel guilty enjoying it.

"I can't do it," she says sadly.

"Then let me," I reply. I don't think she expected that answer. I cup her face in my hand and stare down at her while I think, _There's no real easy way to do this. Not with us._ "Slowly," I try to reassure her.

I brace my back foot against the corner of the tub as I hold her to me and rock my hips into her. She makes a small noise like she's in pain while I groan and shake from the effort I exert to hold back. I slowly pull back and push into her, this time going a little farther.

"Jesse..." she says worriedly, clinging to me around my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Marie, my love. Let me do this. It won't last forever. Okay?" I pause and look at her pleadingly. She gets this look of hopelessness on her face that kills me inside before she nods her head slowly.

I kiss her gently for a little while, but I know every second I take doing it only makes the bad part last longer. I'd thrust in real fast if I thought I could do that, but I'm afraid I could actually tear her.

_So. Fucking. Tight!_ I think with a groan as I feel driven by nature to do what I do. Her nails dig into the flesh on the back of my shoulders, and I let her do it.

I tightly hold onto her as I slowly and repeatedly rock my body into hers. I can't stop myself from moaning in agonizing pleasure as I drive myself farther into her.

So good.

Stay in control, Jesse.

So damn good. So tight.

I push harder than I have before, and Marie cries out. But I don't stop for her to recover. Instead, I attack the sweet skin of her neck and keep doing it. The farther I go, the tighter she gets. She feels terribly fantastic.

"Oh, Marie," I moan.

"Jesse, please," she whispers.

"Almost, baby," I say to her whimpering. It's true. I'm almost fully inside her. I moan again as I feel her all around me, and I want her all the way.

Shit, no condom; it's so fucking real!

Daddy's home.

Finally, I'm 'buried to the hilt,' and I stop to let her recover. She whines as I move us so that I'm sitting on the edge of the bench with her perfect legs bent around me.

I love this woman!

I hate that I had to hurt her, but that part is over with. I'm so glad. We did it, and soon I can finally show her how great sex is.

I happily sit up and start kissing her. She's reticent, and I guess she's still uncomfortable. I back off a little, but I don't stop. My hand cups the back of her head as I kiss her all over her precious face.

My mouth covers hers when I can't stand it anymore. I think a full five minutes has gone by, and still Marie sits perfectly still and quiet. I want her to know how much I love her.

_Maybe she's been waiting for me,_ I think and start moving a little.

She groans and holds on tightly to my shoulders.

_Fuck yes!_ I scream inside my head. "Oh, Marie," I moan again and slowly increase my tempo. She has her head turned away from me, and I turn it towards me so I can kiss her passionately.

Something goes wrong.

Marie resists me kissing her and starts pushing me away. I stop in confusion.

Before I can ask, she says, "No, Jesse. Stop. Stop now!"

"What's wrong?" I finally get to ask.

"It hurts," she cries and continues to push at me with all her strength.

I feel horrified as I ask, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now. Now, let me go!" she demands, and I do.

I watch helplessly as she pulls off me, crying out as she does.

"Marie..." I say as I reach for her.

"No," she snaps and stumbles out of the hot tub before limping into the house.

Ice cold dread fills me, contradicting the warm night and hot tub.

# Chapter 21: The Question

### Erin

After I finish breakfast Tuesday morning and put my dish in the dishwasher, Bryce walks up behind me. His arms wrap around me, and I feel his stubble scratch me some as he plants slow kisses on the back of my neck.

"I'm glad you stayed last night, even if it was only cuddling," he says into my hair.

I get the hint that he more than wants to cuddle right now as his hands hungrily travel over my abdomen. He groans and pulls me tight up against him, my back to his front.

"Bryce, no," I say gently.

"Still?" he asks. "Why didn't you say something _then_?" His voice sounds hurtfully accusing.

"I told you. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. You wanted it, so I thought I'd be okay," I explain what I'd said before when he asked me about how I was after our last time in the hot tub. I woke up Sunday morning very sore and didn't want him to touch me hardly at all. I managed to keep him at arm's length all day yesterday too except for a little making out last night.

"You should've stopped me," he says, still sounding hurt that I wasn't completely honest with him at the time.

Suddenly, he freezes. "Erin?" he asks and turns me around to face him.

"Hm?"

"How long have we been together?"

"About a month I think," I say and smile a little.

"A month," he states. "A month," he repeats thoughtfully.

_Shit._ "Yeah, why?" I ask as innocently as possible. I still haven't started my period.

"Maybe it's something I don't understand like the type of birth control," _shit!_ "but did you have a period?" he asks with his brown eyes watching me closely.

I can't look him in the eyes, and the longer I'm quiet, the tenser he gets.

Oh no.

"Are you on some method to where you'll miss it?" he asks, determined to get me to talk.

I shake my head no. _Well, other women do. I've never missed it before. I've always been one of the 'lucky' ones to have a period anyway._

"Um." His lips press together before he continues, "How long ago was the last one?"

I'll claim it's none of his business! No, I can't do that. In this case, it's very much his business.

"Six... maybe seven... weeks," I answer slowly, wanting to cry.

He freezes solid.

I don't know what to do!

"Erin, are you pregnant?!" he asks with increasing volume after standing perfectly still for about half a minute.

Oh no. This is not good. He's pissed!

I try to break out of his hold, and he only holds onto me tighter. "Bryce, let go!" I plead.

"Absolutely not!" he says loudly. "Tell me."

I start crying and keep trying to break free. _Oh, why didn't I just start already?! Things would be so much easier!_

"Stop it, Erin!" he yells when I start getting violent, and I find out just how very strong Bryce is as his arms tighten around me like a vise.

"No!" I scream.

"No, you're not?"

"No, let me go!"

"Are you or aren't you?!" he yells loudly.

I start frantically whispering, "Let me go. Let me go. Let me go."

Bryce growls into my ear, "No, I am _not_ going to fucking let you go until you answer my question."

"I don't know," I cry.

"Shit!" he yells while throwing his arms off me and taking a step back with a wild look on his face. "You don't _know_?!"

_He's going to think I did this on purpose to get him to marry me or something,_ I think and start crying more.

"So _this_ is what was bugging you? 'It's probably nothing,' you said! This isn't nothing!" he rants.

Since he's let go of me, I dart for the door.

He's on me like a duck on a June bug, his hand circling my forearm and pulling me back to him. I only get as far as the hall.

"Bryce, please," I say, bawling.

He doesn't say anything but instead gently pulls me close with his hand cradling the back of my head. Yes, he's being gentle, but I can also sense that would change if I tried another escape attempt.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he says quietly as he continues to try to calm me down. I want to say so much, but I can't stop crying long enough to get it out. I can tell he has a lot he wants to say, but he holds it in.

"I'm... sorry," I let out with little hiccups. _He's comparing me to Ashley right now, I just know he is. Shit, this is familiar territory for him, and I do_ not _want that to be us!_ I start trying to break free again.

"Stop trying to run, Erin. Please," he requests. He sounds calm, but his arms tighten the smallest amount.

"I'm not her," I state with my sobs irritating the hell out of me. "I swear to you. I got my shot on time!"

"Shot?" he asks in a sort of daze. "You're on the shot?"

"Well yeah, you don't see me with a pack of pills do you? I'm not _trying_ to get pregnant," I say with a mildly-stronger voice. _If I am pregnant, then both of his children will have been surprises/accidents,_ I think and start bawling again.

"Have you _taken_ a test?" he asks calmly while stroking my back.

"I'm afraid to. I keep waiting for mother nature to hurry up and pay me a visit," I say in between my tears.

"And in your waiting, you decided not to tell me about it," he states with a touch of anger.

"Why get you worried if you didn't have to be?"

"Why in hell would I want you to worry alone?!" he growls.

"I'm not her."

He lets out an exasperated sigh and says, "No, damn it. You're not, so stop saying that."

He may have said that, but I know he doesn't mean it. I can tell by the way he's breathing fast. I know what he's feeling. He's feeling like the walls are closing in on him and now he's trapped with me.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm sorry to do this to you. You don't have to do anything. I'll... go back to my hometown or something if I have to. You can pretend like I was never here," I say, getting louder as I go.

"Like hell I can!" he snarls. "Erin, you're not going back. Would you stop it? Don't say shit like that!" He pulls me back and looks at me with a wide-eyed expression. "You promised you wouldn't leave!"

"I don't want you to... feel obligated... about anything."

"Obligated?" he asks incredulously. "Do you _have_ any fucking idea how much I love you?" I don't answer, so he growls, "Stay here. I'm getting my shoes, and we're going out and buying a damn test kit." He lets go of me and looks at me warily for a second before he asks, "You're not going to try to run out on me again, are you?"

I hate how scared he sounds about everything. I shake my head no.

He lets out a relieved breath, gently grabs my head, and kisses me on the forehead before he breathes, "Thank you."

### Bryce

Oh fuck! Erin's pregnant! Now she's going to think I'm only asking her to marry me because she's pregnant!

I get up to my room, and I'm desperate to yell and throw a frustrated fit. I don't dare because that would scare Erin downstairs.

_The woman still...! She doesn't believe... ! How can she think to do that to me?! Shit! If she is, she'll always think that's why we're together! I'll_ never _really get her to believe me!_ A small, panicked noise slips out of me. I work hard to keep it from happening again. Besides, I have to get down there before Erin gets the 'bright idea' to try and leave even though she said she wouldn't. I try not to think too much.

I get downstairs and find Erin curled up into a ball against the wall. Her bloodshot eyes look up at me like she expects me to chastise her. It breaks my heart!

I crouch down in front of her and wipe her cheeks.

Is this the only way I can get a woman to stay with me? Get her pregnant?

_No, because Erin was ready to leave me anyway,_ I answer myself with a painful ache in my chest.

_I won't let her leave. If I have to tie her to the bed, I won't let her leave._ I mentally shake my head at my crazy, but tempting, idea.

"Let's go," I say quietly, and she nods her head before I help her stand up.

When we get back home, Erin insists upon taking the test in private, so we come back home for her to go in the bathroom by herself.

She locks the door.

I go and have a seat on the edge of my bed to wait for the news that might change my life. Part of me wants her to be pregnant. Yes, it would be hell convincing her that that's not the only, or even the main, reason why I want her to marry me, but we'd still have a baby.

_A baby with Erin,_ I think and smile for the first time in what feels like ages.

How long has it been? Surely, it's been at least five minutes. How long is she going to stay in there? Why don't I get to see too?

This is driving me crazy!

The bathroom door finally opens, and Erin walks out with an unreadable expression on her face.

I decide I'd better stay sitting as I impatiently ask, "Well? What does it say?"

She does nothing but silently stare at me.

# Chapter 22: The Answer

### Erin

Bryce and I come back from the store with a pregnancy test.

I don't want to take it.

_What if it's positive? What will I do then? I know he'll ask; he thinks I haven't caught those hints. There'll be no way that Bryce would take no for an answer, and he'll_ demand _that we get married. I don't want a baby to be the reason we get married if we're ever getting married._

But what if I only imagined those hints? What if he reverts back to 'Bryce the Stonehearted' and tells me to leave because the last thing he needs right now is another child?

I quickly tell him that I want to be alone in the bathroom. He nods with an 'I'm-scared-but-I'm-trying-to-hide-it' expression.

I bite the side of my finger to keep from bawling. As it is, a few tears escape anyway.

My eyes tearing up doesn't help me one bit when it comes to trying to read the instructions in the package. Finally, I ball them up and toss them on the floor in aggravation.

I get it. Take off the little cap thing. Pee on it. Put the cap thing back on. Set it down on a level spot. Wait five minutes. One line equals not pregnant, and two lines equals pregnant.

SHIT.

I can't do this. How in the hell am I supposed to pee when I'm this stressed out?

I sit down on the toilet and try to find my happy place.

At last, I relax enough to let it happen, and I put the cap on before putting it on the edge of the sink.

Time to wait.

I wonder what Bryce is thinking right now. Is he making plans about how to tell me to get lost? Is he making plans on forcing me to move in with him?

He can't force me to do anything!

What am I going to do?

Am I ready to be a mom? Oh, sure, I think I do okay with Adele, although Pamela does even better, but a baby is a whole 'nother ball game.

Well, I'll have nine months to get ready for it. Um, eight maybe.

Three more minutes.

_Oh God, help me! What will my mother say?! And Bill will want to beat the shit out of Bryce, taking the 'father' role, again, for me, forgetting he's two years_ younger _._

What will Adele think about having a sibling?

Two more minutes.

I wonder what Bryce is thinking? He's being really quiet. Does he want this baby?

I just thought of it as a baby.

I let out a shaky breath and run my fingers through my hair.

I look down at the test and see a single line. I still have a minute to go, though.

Is that another line? No, I have to be seeing things. My mind is making it up because I can tell that that's where it's supposed to show up.

Five minutes is up.

One line.

I'm not pregnant.

I walk outside the bathroom and find Bryce sitting on the edge of his bed. Without getting up from it, he asks, "Well, what does it say?"

How am I going to answer him?

Why does he look a little hopeful?

Why do I feel a little sad?

Bryce stands up and takes one large step towards me. "Erin? Tell me the results." He cups my face in his hands.

"It's negative," I answer quietly, and I can't explain why I feel so sad.

"You're not pregnant," Bryce states with his eyebrows coming together a little like he's trying to hide something.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh," he says in a flat, emotionless voice.

"Um, maybe I should go see a doctor anyway to find out why I haven't started still," I state since my cycle is normally very predictable.

"Yeah, if you think that's what you need to do." He isn't looking at me anymore even if his hands still hold my face.

I want to cry. _What the fuck is wrong with me?!_

I break free from his hold easily, take a few steps back, and say, "I'm not leaving." Then I go downstairs to sit on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool.

Once seated on the lounge chair, I burst into tears. I don't know if I'm crying from relief or sadness, possibly both.

I'm not pregnant. I'm not pregnant with Bryce's baby. I guess I'm not as fertile as a sixteen-year-old.

The still-sane part of me realizes that I'm not pregnant because of my birth control, but I stubbornly don't want to listen to reason, even if it's in my own head.

_Did I_ want _to be pregnant?_

_No!_ I answer myself immediately. _No! This is a bad time for that to happen. I don't know if my relationship with Bryce is strong enough for that to be a good thing, and I don't want to test it._

Still, the thought of a little brown-eyed, blond-haired boy about three years old shows up in my mind's eye. Then he fades and disappears, and I start crying again.

I guess I'd started to get used to the idea of being pregnant and having Bryce's baby even if I worried he'd push me away because of it. Maybe in getting used to the idea I also started warming up to, and even hoping for, the possibility that I was.

_I'm crazy!_ I scream inside my head and start crying again.

"Erin?" Bryce asks from behind me before I hear him walking around to sit on the lounge chair next to me. I'd not heard the sliding door open. "Baby, are you okay?"

_He called me 'baby,'_ I think and start crying more.

"What's wrong?" Bryce asks as he starts rubbing my shoulders.

"Oh, don't mind me. I've just lost my marbles is all," I answer and fold myself in half to place the backs of my hands on my knees while my face rests on my palms. Bryce starts rubbing my back.

"Why do you say that?" he asks in a soothing voice, and I realize that Bryce does a good job at soothing me. He does a better job helping others with their problems than helping himself with his own.

"I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it," I answer.

"Alright," he says, sounding like he won't push me to explain. "But come here."

We rearrange ourselves on the lounge chair so that he reclines on it while I lie on my side and on him with his arms around me. I feel consumed by depression, and not even my shock that I feel depressed to begin with can keep it away.

I hear Bryce's wonderful voice as it goes directly into my ear while I rest my head on his chest.

"I hate that you felt like you had to keep that worry to yourself. I hate even more that I yelled at you when you finally told me. What can I say? I freaked out," he explains.

"I don't blame you for freaking out," I state. "That's eerily-familiar territory for you, and I'm sure I brought you back to that moment when you found out that Ashley was pregnant."

"Um, yeah, there was that, but it was more that you would keep something that important from me."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"You said that. Still, that's what I was thinking at the time."

"What happened when Ashley told you she was pregnant?" I ask masochistically.

He stays quiet for a few minutes, and I don't push him to answer me.

He mildly surprises me when he does. "I did pretty close to what I did in the kitchen earlier. I freaked out and started yelling. She was supposed to be on the pill, but I later found out that she'd missed a day." He takes a deep breath and continues, "Then, I was determined for us to get married, even if it wouldn't happen until we were eighteen. That wasn't what she wanted. I still can't believe she wanted an abortion. She wanted to kill my baby. Oh, God!" Bryce's free hand moves to cover his eyes for a minute, and I stay silent, guessing that's the right thing to do, before he starts up again. "I hated her then. She acted like I had no say in the matter, and what could I do? That's when my parents offered to take it, the baby, Adele, if she would just carry her to term. She decided to do that, but during the pregnancy, she decided all of a sudden that she loved her and wanted to keep her and for us to be a family."

I still lie here quietly because I can sense that Bryce has never really talked about any of this to anyone before.

He continues, "I'd broken up with her during the start, but she drew me back in. It didn't take much effort on her part because I wanted Adele, and I _wanted_ us to take responsibility for what we'd done and become a family, thankfully with my parents' help.

"I think I never really loved her, especially after that breakup. I got back with her and did my best to believe that I loved her, but now that I look back on it, I realize I was miserable."

He stays quiet while he squeezes me closer to him like he's afraid to let me go, and that makes me think of a question: "Would you have hated me if I'd decided to move back to my hometown?"

He lets out an almost-silent, aggravated sigh. "Erin, there is not a thing you could do to make me hate you, and I would have chased you down all the way there and demanded that you marry me," he says in an ultra-serious voice.

_He actually said marry this time._ My heart starts beating really fast. I was right. Bryce would've demanded that we get married. _Wait..._

"Did you chase down Ashley after she left?" I ask.

"Is today a day for comparisons?" he asks in a huff. "Fuck the bitch, Erin; you win hands down, okay?"

"It was just a question," I say in a small voice, but I have to admit it's nice to hear Bryce say that 'I win.' It satisfies some carnal need that I can't quite identify at the moment.

"No, I didn't. I sometimes wonder if I should have, but I never did. Maybe it was because I didn't really want her back. I hated that feeling of rejection and abandonment, especially so soon after my parents' death, but I knew I didn't care for _her_ enough to put forth the effort." He adds, "Her parents followed her though."

"They're still alive?" I ask, surprised they wouldn't want to see Adele.

Bryce acts like he understands what I'm really asking. "Yes. They never gave a shit about Adele. Me, they treated me like I was less than dirt." He stays quiet for a second before he asks, "How come you never mention your dad?"

"You want to change the subject. I'm sorry I'm talking about her," I state quietly.

"I don't relish talking about her, but that did get me thinking. And I've never asked you even though I've wondered before now," he explains.

"My parents divorced when I was seven. I haven't seen him since." _I wonder if that's a reason I get along with Adele so well. I'll bet that's why I want to cry when I think about it too much._ I take a deep breath and realize that if I were pregnant, Bryce wouldn't have to chase me down. No way would I ever raise a child with a missing parent if that parent wants to be involved. I only thought of doing it while in a panic. I never would've stuck to that plan.

"That might be a reason you're shy," he says quietly, talking about my missing father. I start hitting him. "I meant bashful! Bashful okay? Sorry!" he quickly and laughingly corrects himself. I can't help but laugh too before he pulls me up to him and kisses me wildly.

We make out on the lounge chair until Adele comes home from school. Then she and Bryce head off to do their Tuesday picnic.

# Chapter 23: Magic Words

### Marie

Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!

Every step I take into the house hurts. My knee hurts too.

I hobble up the stairs and escape into the bathroom.

I'm a failure. I failed at sex.

It hurt too much!

I feel like Jesse carved an entirely new hole into me. Reason tells me that he didn't, but I feel like he did.

Why did it have to hurt so much?!

I look down at myself and see blood running down my leg. I start crying and run the bathtub. I don't think I can stand up for long in the shower. I don't think a bath is going to feel good either, but at least I'll be able to sit down.

I don't know what I'll do after this.

I start crying again, loudly.

### Jesse

I sit dumbly in the hot tub, lamely staring at the water. I feel that my face is all screwed up in worry, and my breathing feels forced.

_I seriously hurt her,_ I think, filled with self-loathing.

The bathroom light upstairs turns on.

I ruined her. I'm a failure. She was counting on me to know what I was doing, and I failed her.

She kept trying to tell me it hurt, but I thought she was only talking about the typical pain that was supposed to go away.

_You idiot. Think about it. It might take her a long while to adjust, and again, you go charging in like some bull. You should've stopped when she wanted to stop. Then the next time she'd be better and the time after that maybe, but nooooo, you had to go and want everything right_ now _._

I bury my face in my hands and start quietly crying with the realization that I caused my own worst fears to become a reality.

Then I hear the faint sound of running water and Marie crying.

Get a hold of yourself and be a man, asshole. You literally fucked up. Go find a way to fix it!

I dry my face and listen to my cruel inner voice.

After I walk into the house, I pick up Marie's swimsuit top where I threw it earlier. Then, I head upstairs to get the bottoms where I threw them. I don't think she'll need them right away, but it's the first thing I think to do.

Dumbass. She's going to want to cover up more than what that bikini will do for her.

I look at the little suit in my hands and agree with myself, so I turn around to get my housecoat out of the closet to loan to her if she wants.

She's still crying, dipshit.

_You'd better knock_ , I think to myself as I approach my bathroom door across the little hallway upstairs.

I do.

"Marie?" I ask after I hear the bathtub's faucet turn off.

She makes a noise like something hurt her, and I don't wait for her to invite me in.

Yeah, you're good at barging in, aren't you?

"Marie?" I ask again and see her tense up as she gets in the tub. _Oh._ She looks behind her at me warily.

_Oh crap_. I forgot I was still nude. I quickly reach over and grab a towel to wrap around my waist. Once that's done, I sigh and take the folded robe and her swimsuit and place them on the bathroom counter.

I can't stop myself from going over and sitting next to the tub. Her eyes watch me silently.

At least she's stopped crying.

"I'm sorry," I say lamely. "I didn't understand."

Her face crumples. "I know!" she whines. "I should've told you more, but you said it would stop hurting, and it didn't, and I didn't want to act stupid like I didn't believe you, but I never stopped hurting, and..." She dissolves into tears.

I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest with an ice pick. "Shh! It's not your fault!" _It's mine._ "Please don't cry." I can't keep from reaching out and moving her hands so that I can wipe her tears myself. Then I decide to get a washcloth and completely wipe her face after wetting the washcloth in the tub. Next, I reach for the hand towel and dry her face. She lets me do it all with her eyes closed the whole time.

I'm reminded of just this morning when I bathed her in her shower, and I get mildly turned on again as I think about it.

Stop it!

If there could be a good side to my pity-party down in the hot tub earlier, it's that I'm no longer hornier than a rabbit. I feel like shit actually.

Nothing compared to how Marie feels, you know.

I sigh helplessly. I can't change the past, but I'll be damned if she remembers her first time in a negative light. There's got to still be a way I can fix this.

### Marie

The hot water in the bathtub finally starts feeling good instead of like it's burning me 'down there.' I still feel extremely raw, but everything has stopped stinging.

Jesse starts lovingly stroking my face with his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Me too."

"No. It's not your fault. I was too stupid and horny to realize it would take us longer. I should've stopped," he says quietly, still petting my face and hair.

I open my eyes and look up at him. "But I didn't want you to have to stop, but it just wouldn't stop hurting." I stop talking because my voice cracks. I don't need to break down again.

"That's enough for now, or we'll wind up going in circles," he says with gentle sternness. "Is the bath helping?"

"Yes."

"That's good," he says. "I brought you my houserobe since I didn't guess you'd want to wear your bikini."

I think of something else I'm going to need. "I... um... might... need feminine products." I bite my lip and look at him.

"Well, I guess I can run out and get some." A small smile plays around his lips as he says, "I don't keep that sort of thing here."

"Where are you going to buy that stuff at this time of night?"

"White Sands keeps a shop open twenty four hours a day," he says, talking about the island's big resort. "They probably sell those things."

I tell him what I need, and he offers to help me out of the tub before he goes. I tell him I'm staying in the tub until he gets back.

"Then I'll hurry back."

After he gets back and hands me the simple underwear he bought me so that I could use a pad just in case (no way am I using a tampon!), I put on his robe, and the two of us curl up together in his bed.

I'm happy I'm finally sleeping-sleeping with him again. I suppose it doesn't matter anymore since we've officially thrown 'simple' out the window today.

"I'm calling in sick tomorrow. They'll be fine without me," Jesse says as his warm arms hold me.

"You don't have to do that," I say sleepily.

"Yes, I do."

He's so sweet. I should tell him. No, now isn't the right time to tell him I love him. He'll think it's because of what he said.

I'm dreaming.

Jesse plays with a small boy on his back. They're both laughing like crazy, and Jesse pulls the boy off his back and places him on the floor to tickle him.

"Mommy!" the boy says to me. Jesse looks up and smiles at me too as the little boy gets up and runs over to me to hug me around my legs.

Smiling, I extract the child from my legs and kneel down to look at him. He has an exact copy of Jesse's eyes. I give him a more proper hug before he suddenly announces he wants to play outside.

The next thing I know, Jesse's kissing me. It's a dream; things don't have to go along with perfect logic.

"I love you, Jesse," I tell him simply, and he smiles and kisses me again.

This one's an even better kiss. I feel like Jesse's all around me, and it's wonderful. I move to try to get closer to him, and I feel a pinch of pain. I take in a fast breath of air because the pain took me by surprise.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asks.

"Yeah. I guess I have to be more careful," I say sleepily. Jesse is so warm as we lie here in his bed with his arms around me, and I pull him back to me so that I can have more of his lips.

Wasn't I standing a minute ago? Oh well, it's a dream.

Jesse moans in a very real way as his arms hold me tightly to him.

I'm not dreaming anymore.

### Jesse

I wake up in the morning to find Marie sleeping peacefully next to me. She looks so beautiful as she smiles while she sleeps. I wish my cameraphone wasn't broken.

"I love you, Jesse," she says in her sleep.

My whole world freezes in space and time. Did I really just hear that?

Yes, I did.

I scoop her into my arms and kiss her awake.

_"I love you, Jesse. I love you, Jesse. I love you, Jesse..."_ her words echo in my mind, committing themselves to a wonderful memory. I hold her tighter, and she hisses in a pained breath. _Oops._

I ask her if she's okay, and she says she thinks she has to be more careful. I start to tell her that I think it was because I pulled her to me when _she_ pulls _me_ to her. _Oh, baby,_ I think with a moan as I own her mouth. Need for her nags at me, and I slowly start losing control.

But she's still hurting. If only I could help her feel better somehow...

I get an idea. I'm not sure it'll work, but I hope she's willing to give it a try.

"Marie, I want to do something to you. I think it'll help," I say gently.

"What?" she asks with innocent curiosity.

I pause. "If I _tell_ you what I'm going to do, you might not let me. Once I've started doing it and you decide you don't like it, then you can tell me to stop, but please let's try my idea."

"I might not let you?" she asks worriedly.

"You might not; I don't know," I say as I purposefully remove the robe she wears and then her underwear. There's a little blood on the pad she wore.

"Jesse! I'm going to ruin your sheets!"

"Then I'll buy new sheets," I say with a shrug as I get up and open a drawer to get something out of it.

She looks at the tube of lubricant with wide eyes and asks, "What is that?"

_Can you blame her for not trusting you, asshole?_ I think painfully.

I tell her what it is. "All I'm going to use is my fingers to sort of use it like massage oil or lotion for cracked skin or something."

" _Inside_ me?" she squeaks.

"Once I've started doing it and if it hurts, then you can tell me to stop, but please trust me a minute and let me try to make it better," I repeat what I said earlier.

"I don't know, Jesse," she whines, and it breaks my heart. "You don't need to try to fix this."

I lean down to gently kiss her. She's nervous, and I loathe that. "Please let me try," I whisper. She doesn't say anything, and I put a bit of lube on my fingertips and move them down to gently massage the outer area of her vagina.

"Jesse," she cries.

"Does this hurt?" I ask, dying inside.

"No, but I feel so embarrassed," she says while covering her eyes with her hands

I lean down and lovingly kiss her cheeks. "Don't be," I whisper. "I love you. Don't be embarrassed with me, ma Marie. And if it hurts at all, I'll stop immediately." I kiss her as I put a bit more of the stuff on my fingertips.

She breathes in quickly through her nose, but I refuse to release her mouth as I gently use my index finger to place the lube a fingertip's depth inside of her before carefully circling it around.

"Okay?" I ask after I release her mouth.

She breathes shakily and nods her head, and I do it again, this time a little deeper. I watch her face very carefully as my fingertip brushes her frontal wall. For the tiniest of seconds, her expression changes. I reapply the lube to my fingers and this time place my index and middle fingers in her to massage her. She takes in a big breath of air as I pass by again, and I feel her body has added to the lubricant I'm using. I focus on her frontal wall now with only small passes everywhere else, and her eyes close.

Good.

"Does it hurt?" I ask because I have to.

She takes a shaky breath in and answers in a whisper, "No."

My lips twitch up to a quick smile before I ask, "Does it feel good?"

"Yes," she whispers to me, and I pull out to get a little more on my fingertips even if it's probably unnecessary now. "More," she whispers, and her eyes open to look up at me before she closes them again and tilts her head up.

_God, she's beautiful,_ I think and force myself to take a deep breath to keep from attacking her.

I apply the smallest increase in pressure against her, and she closes her eyes. I am so very happy that I'm not hurting her.

"I'm not hurting you?" I ask just to be sure.

"No," she moans, and I pull my fingers out to get a little more lube on them. I'm going deeper.

"Still okay?" I ask.

"Yes, but I liked it better before," she says and tries moving her hips to get my fingers where she wants them.

"No, don't do that. Trust me and please relax," I tell her, getting more into it by the second.

"Oh," she lets out in a high-pitched voice when I find her G-spot. A tremor goes through her when I slowly start moving my fingers, pressing down with varying intensities. She gasps my name, and for a second, I worry I hurt her. Looking at her, I can tell that wasn't the case. "Faster," the little minx breathes.

"I'll go whatever speed I want, and I want to make sure I don't hurt you," I counter, and she whines my name. She starts moving her hips to my hand, and although I know she won't hurt herself, I don't want to risk it. "Be still," I order.

"No," she cries. "I can't."

"You can, and you will even if I have to hold you down. Don't make it have to come to that. Behave, and I won't have to stop."

"No, don't stop!"

"Then be still," I tell her and love how she does as I say. That doesn't stop her from wordlessly telling me how she's going insane, but I don't mind.

Her breathing gets heavier, and I speed up just a little before her hips thrust into my hand while I push back. She cries out, and I worry. However, I keep going while her mouth opens in a silent scream, and I pray it's from extreme pleasure and not pain. Then she moans, and her forehead doesn't wrinkle at all. _Good._

She goes limp, and I slowly pull my fingers out of her while she makes a little noise. She's at that buzzed state where I could do almost anything I wanted, but all I want to do is kiss her. So I do.

I wrap my arms around her and go a little crazy as I kiss her sometimes-responsive mouth. At the very least, she opens it for me when I use my jaw against hers. I have Marie. She's mine. Finally, someone loves me back! I hold her tighter to me. "I love you," I breathe into her mouth for a second before kissing her more.

She acts like she's trying to 'come to' as her hand periodically comes up to touch my face before falling limp again. A short whine slips out of her, and I decide to continue kissing her and not worry for now what she's trying to do.

"Jesse..." she whispers while I let her breathe and kiss her on her face and neck. "Jesse..."

"Mm?" I ask wordlessly but not pushing her to hurry up and tell me whatever it is she wants to say.

She takes a deep breath, lets it out, takes another one, and says, "I love you."

Some strange noise escapes me before I go absolutely crazy. It's probably a good thing I'm still half-dressed. I quite literally can't get enough as I wish to devour her from the inside out. Again, I feel like a living cliché, but I don't care! She consciously told me! A small sob slips out because I have no control over myself anymore. Marie loves me, she said it again, this time awake. Right now, I don't care if I should start bawling.

Her face smiles a little, and that means I have to kiss her again. I've spent years looking for this very thing. I finally found it! I want to capture the air she breathed out as she told me she loves me. I realize that's impossible, but I still want to. Oh well, I have _her_ , and that's what really matters. I squeeze her tightly.

A little squeak comes out of her because I hugged her too hard. I laugh a small laugh and relax my incredibly-crazy grip of her.

I can feel my lips quirk as I try to keep a straight face to say something I've always wanted to say: "I love you more."

She laughs, I guess at my expression, and says, "You did _not_ just say that."

"You bet your sweet ass I did," I respond and go right back to kissing her like a madman.

# Chapter 24: Your House

### Bryce

I couldn't convince Erin to stay the night with me last night when I got back from my picnic with Adele. I didn't want to be pushy, but after the day I had yesterday, sleeping (or not) in my bed alone last night was hell.

I feel like she could slip through my fingers at any moment! At least with an unexpected pregnancy, I'd have a solid connection to her.

_Bad, Bryce. Bad! After all that worrying over whether or not she'd stay with you just because of the baby... for you to even_ think _that... bad._

I can't help it though.

I keep trying to tell myself that she won't leave, but yesterday proved that she's fully capable and willing to do it. Granted, she was going to leave so that I wouldn't feel 'obligated' or anything, but surely she knew what that would do to me.

That plan of tying her to the bed sounds more and more appealing.

_Crazy,_ I tell myself. Then I inwardly groan when I picture it in my mind.

Plus, the woman has no idea what she means to me. Telling her doesn't work apparently. _Hm. I have a lot of free time coming up... What would be something I could_ do _to show her?_

There's a knock on the door behind me. It's Erin standing on my front porch and smiling at me through the window in my door.

"Why are you knocking? You don't have to knock," I say with a smile as I pull her into the house then own her lips for a little while.

She feels so good. I really hope she's not still on the 'don't touch me' thing. I'd really like to _before_ we go to work, and I hold her close up to me so that she can feel what I want.

"I don't know," she says when I start kissing her neck. Then she clarifies what she's talking about when she says, "I felt like I needed to knock."

Oh yeah. The knocking on the door thing.

I grunt and start pulling her towards the stairs. She lets me, so I reach down and carry her up them with her giggling a little. I smile at her as I take her into my bedroom and put her gently down on my bed before our lips get busy again.

I manage to control myself and gently remove her clothes instead of ripping them off her body. A wailing groan escapes me as I work on rediscovering her beautiful body. She doesn't stop me, and because of that, I start going insane.

_Finally_ , I think as my lips and tongue start eating her once my head slips down between her thighs.

"Bryce!" she squeals and starts to clamp her thighs around my ears. I reach over and pull them apart. I want her open while I mercilessly drive her crazy.

She whimpers when I go lower and start lapping up the delicious fluids coming out of her. Then I delve inside and hold her hips still while I continue to attack her. She tries to move with me, but I hold her tightly and prevent it from happening. A loud, frustrated noise shoots out of her from deep inside her chest.

_No, baby. All me,_ I think as I hold her steady when she keeps groaning and whining.

She screams my name again, and I pick up my speed and pressure before she quickly comes into my face. I ride the whole thing with my tongue inside her, stroking her while she bathes my chin in Essence of Erin.

Then I flip her over, lift her hips to me, and drive myself into her wet pussy. I want it like this to make up for the discomfort I gave her last time while -almost- in the same position. I'd finger her ass, but I'm not touching that until she gives me permission. I don't ask now because I don't want to risk it.

"Oh, Erin," I moan before pulling out and driving myself into her once more. I'm going to play with her until she's ready to come again. She's so deliciously tight after she comes like that, like her body is looking for me, and when it finds me, it doesn't want to let go. She whines a little when I do it again. I ask her if she's okay, and she mumbles that she is. I don't want her letting me hurt her like that again. That still pisses me off to some extent.

I fuck her slowly for a little while until I can tell she's ready. Groaning, I pick up my tempo until I hold her hips tightly while she comes.

I turn her over once more before burying myself between her thighs again. She barely responds to me kissing her, but I don't mind.

"I missed you," I whisper into her lips, and she starts to wake up a little more to kiss me back. Her fingers thread through my hair as she continues to kiss me, and I soak up the love I feel coming from her because I'm starving for it.

I hadn't realized I'd started moving until a few minutes of kissing her pass by. I don't think too much about it since I'm more interested in kissing her. Sure, this feels damn good, but I really want to focus on her mouth and neck. It's all so wonderful.

"I love you," I whisper into her mouth before I go back to kissing her. Right this moment, I feel like Erin understands just how much I do love her even if she'll probably forget later. I love this moment.

As always, that physical need for her takes over, and I lose myself to our pleasure. As her orgasm milks me, I finally let go and come inside her.

We still have a few hours until the bar opens, so I hold her naked body close while running my fingers through her hair.

"I love you, Bryce," she breathes.

I stay silent, the pain from her crazy idea to leave me yesterday still hurting me.

Like she's reading my mind, she says, "I never could've left. I only said that in a panic. You wouldn't have had to chase after me, but I still love that you would have."

I hate how I still remain wary even though what she said helps quite a bit.

_Give her the truth._ "I... You..." I squeeze her tighter. "My biggest fear. You wanted to." _Very articulate, Bryce,_ I think sarcastically.

"I was afraid," she says quietly, not complaining about how tightly I hold onto her.

"Of what?" I ask, the words popping out of my mouth. "That I'd break up with you or something like that?"

"Yes. That you'd say something like 'I don't have time for this shit' or something."

"No."

"I know that now. I really knew that then too, but I panicked and forgot it in my fear. I'm sorry."

Do it. Ask her to move in with you.

No. Not because of this.

"Okay. Don't blame me for becoming annoyingly clingy though."

She takes a deep breath. "Be as clingy as you want."

I have to say it. "But what about that talk about slowing down and stuff?"

"Don't worry about it," she says.

_Now._ "Then move in with me, Erin."

### Erin

"Then move in with me, Erin," he says in a very serious voice before he rolls over on top of me.

I stay quiet in my shock.

He talks since I don't. "Don't give me that 'it's only been a month' crap either. I love you, and I hate, I _loathe_ it when you're not here."

I swallow. "I can be here." Even though I feel like I'm a deer caught in the headlights, I know I would eventually move in with him anyway. This is a little soon, but he has a point in what he said when he implied that we're not the average couple. Still, this is a bit crazy. I decide to move in but keep my house.

"You will?!" he asks in a happy voice while a thrilled smile covers his face. He watches me closely, but not even my apprehensive look takes away his smile.

"I mean I can stay here as much as you want, but-"

He kisses me to stop me from finishing my sentence. "As much as I want is all the time."

"But I'm keeping my house."

"Why? Because you think I'm going to break up with you? Are you planning on breaking up with me someday? What, you don't see us working out? You don't need to keep it," he lightly argues while kissing my neck.

"Bryce," I say in an annoyed voice, "no matter what you say it _has_ only been a month. There's still stuff we don't know about each other. I think it's wise for me to keep my house as a backup plan."

"Makes no sense to me," he says, and he reminds me of a child stomping his foot because he's not completely getting his way. "We don't need a backup plan."

"What about what this will do to Adele?" I ask.

"It was going to happen eventually, and she likes you," he says, dropping another hint about the future he wants, but this time it doesn't make me panic.

"It's different when you live with someone, Bryce."

"You think I don't know that?!" he snaps - but not in a cruel way.

I reach up and work on wiping the scowl off his face as I say, "For a while, I want to keep my house. Who knows what's going to happen? I'll still, for all intents and purposes, be living here all the time."

His face finally relaxes, and his whole body relaxes on top of me. He wraps his arms around me and rests his head on my chest. I feel him smile against my skin.

I must admit that I'm a little worried about this sudden, rash decision, but I also feel happy about it.

"I could hire that same interior decorator to fix this house up like you like it if you want," he suddenly says while lifting his head up to look at me. "So it would feel more like your home too."

I smile. "That's a sweet idea, Bryce. If it were just you and me, I'd love that, but we don't need to change too many things at once for Adele's sake. Don't you think?"

"What if we ask her input?" he adds.

"I don't know. Give me a while to think about it. I'm still reeling from saying I'll move in." _But this is a way I can make you understand that I'm not going to leave you. I hate myself for what I did yesterday._

"Tonight?" he asks like a kid at Christmas, and I can't help but laugh a little. "You stay the night anyway, and we'll break it slowly to Adele if that would make you feel better."

"It would."

"No more staying at this place you call 'your house,'" he says with his warm brown eyes watching me closely.

"We need to get ready to open the bar," I say.

He groans and buries his face in my chest.

# Chapter 25: Noah Jones

### Noah Jones

My name is Noah, but everyone calls me Jones. I have no idea why, but it doesn't bother me.

I'll never forget that first day she showed up at the bar with Desmond. I was attracted to her from the moment I saw her. She had this little, lost look to her that made me want to draw her into my arms and tell her everything was going to be alright.

I quickly noticed I wasn't the only one she affected. Desmond, who normally would chase Ginger in his unique way, appeared just as enraptured by the new, blonde waitress.

Besides, she _worked_ with me, still does in fact even though The Flamingo has now closed temporarily to build a new structure.

I've learned to never date anyone from work, especially if I worked for a small business. I liked and still like working there. Bryce made a great boss, but Simon was an ass. When it was just the two of us, he'd sit around talking to everyone and leave the real work to me. I let it go then because it didn't bother me since he _would_ step in and help if things got bad (I'm guessing because he didn't want a bad report sent to Bryce).

Bryce and his idiot-best-friend Jesse would often play twisted games with the tourists and locals alike. I stayed quiet when Bryce dragged Marie into his practical jokes since I knew he wasn't planning anything that would place her in danger.

Besides, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see what she'd look like in the outfit Bryce convinced her to wear. She looked... hot.

Then, I caught on to the game Bryce and Jesse were playing. Bryce was setting her up with Jesse! Putting her in that outfit, he may as well have placed a blinking sign over her head that read 'Jesse, look here!' Jesse was dressed in his old captain's costume for some 'punishment' thing for kissing Bryce's girlfriend, and Bryce matched Marie's costume with Jesse's.

When I saw Jesse pestering Marie like I knew he would, I did my best to let Marie know that I was there for her if she needed me.

I hate Jesse.

He could have almost any woman he wanted with that charm of his, and he went after _Marie_. He was _allowed_ to go after Marie.

I'm not normally prone to violence, but I wanted to punch him that afternoon because of his behavior.

Marie beat me to it! I was so happy! She knows martial arts. She put that man right in his place: curled up and begging for forgiveness that he shouldn't receive.

Then, damn him! He used that charm he has to weasel his way back to a point to where she would speak to him again.

Over the years, I've learned how to read people, and I could see it by the time he walked her home that first Friday night. It damn near broke my heart. She was attracted to him. It was only a matter of time.

I watched in silent agony as she agreed to let him walk her home. She didn't stand a chance.

My only hope laid in the probability that he would dump her when he got tired of her, and that maybe I could be of some comfort to her then... even if it would've been a bad idea to date her.

So, I kept my nose down and my opinions to myself, waiting for the inevitable.

Her work attire at times would drive me insane, but nowhere near as crazy as watching Jesse's reaction to her. I found it increasingly difficult to keep my thoughts to myself.

I felt furious at Bryce's continued attempts to put Marie in Jesse's path. Enough already!

The only thing that would make me feel better at this point was that Marie would continuously shoot all their efforts down.

One day, I made the mistake of mumbling to myself, and my boss's girlfriend caught me. I'd have to be much more careful. I didn't need people to know what I was thinking.

I hate Jesse. For years, I've stood and silently watched as he'd seduce women alongside my boss. I did my best to not hate Bryce because he made a good boss, but Jesse, I allowed myself to hate.

No one pays attention to me, and I have never minded this fact.

Then, Jesse caught Simon feeling up Marie or something. Bryce eventually stood behind his best friend's accusations and fired him. I couldn't help but wonder if Bryce did it because it was _Jesse_ that laid the accusations.

The next day, I was surprised when Bryce asked me to pick up Marie on the way to his house for a meeting! I was so nervous that I hardly spoke the entire drive there. Marie remained quietly aloof, unaware of my inner struggle. It was hard to be in an enclosed space with her.

At this meeting, Bryce surprised me once again when he offered me the assistant manager position! He _had_ noticed my much-better-than-Simon's work ethic. He even valued my opinions on what to do with the bar when I recommended we have an upper deck, open-air dance floor.

Then, Jesse came over.

Bryce told me not to worry about taking Marie home, and I knew exactly what that meant. Bryce went from Bryce, the great boss to Bryce, the dickhead best friend of the idiot. The difference between the two is Jesse's presence.

Marie injured herself, and Bryce trained Erin a little to work in her place at the bar before we closed for remodeling. Erin was nowhere near as good as Marie, but I didn't really expect her to be. She was too timid, and I tried to do what I could to help her just like any assistant manager should do.

I missed Marie being around. With her around, I'd at least have someone to talk to. Bryce and Erin were always talking to each other about things that didn't concern me.

Then one day, I heard Bryce tell Erin that Jesse and Marie had 'finally' started dating, and I wanted to die. I worried that Bryce would see something in my demeanor that would give me away. I especially worried about Erin seeing. I noticed that she was the quiet but observant type, and that made me extra cautious.

I had never wanted to leave early so much as I did that day.

What does it matter? What the hell would Marie see in me anyway? I don't have Jesse's charm, and I'm a bit overweight. She and I don't even have that much in common.

Still... _Jesse_? He's not good enough for her. The man is an asshole.

Then we found out that that prick Simon wants to sue Bryce for wrongful termination.

As I watched Simon and Bryce argue, I wanted to walk over and punch Simon in the face. 'Wrongful termination' my ass! He should've been fired ages ago. I always would worry about Bernadette, but she'd tell me to mind my own damn business. I tried to, but I also felt there were times when I _must_ step in and help. She wouldn't let me.

When I heard about Bernadette threatening to actually take Simon's side in the lawsuit, I knew that I had to do something to help Bryce. I told him that I'd happily tell the judge what I'd seen between Simon and Bernadette. If I help Bryce, I'll finally feel like I did something to help Bernadette - whether she wanted it or not.

If only Marie would help Bryce as well, but she insisted on not pressing charges! Sure, what Simon did to her was tame compared to everything he probably did with Bernadette, but it didn't take a genius to guess that he had the same plans with Marie.

The trial is set for after Christmas. In the meantime, the bar closes.

As I watch them tear the old structure down, I happen to glance over at Bernadette where she sits watching from her lounge chair a little ways down the lagoon's beach.

I walk over to her, and she speaks without being prompted.

"I wanted to watch that shithole of a bar crash into the ground," she says in a cold, dead voice.

"Why?" I ask, wanting her to elaborate.

"Bad memories," she answers in that same voice.

"Why didn't you tell me what was going on?" I ask her, reminded of the times when I would practically beg her to confirm my suspicions about her and Simon Cottrell.

She shrugs. "None of your business."

"We could've helped you."

"Nobody gives a shit about me," she snaps as she stands up to, I guess, see the bar's destruction a little better.

"I thought we were friends."

"Humph," she says noncommittally. Then, out of the blue, she asks, "Is Jesse dating that new slut of a waitress?"

"Marie is not a slut," I growl. "And yes."

She watches me closely for a few seconds before she says calculatingly, "Looks like you're not happy about it either."

"Not especially, no. I'm concerned about her," I answer evasively and look away, but she catches on anyway, I think.

"Jones, I think I _could_ use your help with something."

"Not with that," I guess. I've known she's been after Jesse for ages, and her attempts have been really pathetic. All she ever did was make Jesse convinced that she's insane.

"You mean to tell me you don't want Marie?" she asks in a deviously-playful voice.

"It's not going to happen anyway. We work together."

"Not if she quits," she offers up with a smile.

"No, Bernadette. If Marie is happy, then I'm happy for her. If, and I think this is sadly likely, he hurts her, I'll be there to help however I can."

"What if he never hurts her and you never get your chance?" she asks with her eyebrows raised.

"Then, like I said, I'll be happy for her."

She rolls her eyes. "You'll change your mind. I can already see the possibility floating around behind your eyes on how you'd love to help me break them up."

"If they break up, it won't be because of me," I state with finality and walk away without looking back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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## About the Author

Erin Lancaster is a mother of three who sharpened her writing skills by writing blog stories. Also known as mypalsim1, she continues to write the stories that got her started.

### Other titles from this author

Guardian Angel

### A Story With No Title series

Beginning Again

Moving Forward

### Learning to Love

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