A. Jackson - When We Met

“I couldn’t possibly break your heart,” I whispered, averting my gaze to pluck a piece of fuzz from his shirt.

It was my heart on the line.

With caution, I peered up at him, feeling so shy and exposed. But I had to finally lay it all out. Trust him so he could trust me.

Was I really ready for this? To lay myself bare? At his feet?

Would he trample all over my heart when he knew?

Was it worth the chance?

“You just need to know something about me before we go any further.”

His expression turned unreadable, but I felt every single one of the muscles in his body fire, rigid as they flexed, tension winding him tight.

For a moment, I thought he was . . . angry?

Darryn softened, and he lifted his hands, touched my face so softly. Still it scorched me through. “Nothing you can tell me will change the way I feel about you,” he promised, locking our gazes. My breaths turned ragged as he backed me up against the wall of the lecture hall building.

His promise infiltrated my spirit, and I swallowed hard, nodding before I lifted myself to my toes and pressed my mouth to his. It was meant to be innocent, sweet, but Darryn deepened it, swiping his tongue across the seam of my mouth. On a gasp, I opened, then melted as he pinned me to the wall with that glorious body. His tongue skimmed and danced and played against mine with an intensity that I wasn’t close to expecting.

Darryn, the one who’d saved something inside me.

And I felt it pumping, full of life, full of hope, my heart so full I thought it would burst right in my chest.

He pulled back, fisted his hands in my jacket collar, and jerked me toward him. His voice was fierce at my face. “Nothing,” he promised again.

Then he turned and left me standing there, panting, as I watched him disappear in the hustle of students emerging from another class.

Thankfully I had the support of the wall to keep me from dropping to my knees.

Dear. Lord.

I bit at my lip, fighting against the satisfied smile.

“You got some of that for me?”

The voice barely cut into my senses, and I blinked, wondering if it had really been intended for me, but something inside me was sure it had. I turned my head toward the sound of it, and a guy I’d never seen before stood ten feet away, looking directly at me.

“Should have known better than to have bet against Hunter, but something about you looking all innocent in the picture he had of you had me laying down my money in your favor.”

Hunter.

The mention of his name punched me in the gut. I clutched my stomach, bent at the middle. My heart careened to a stop, tightening in my chest in a ball and making it impossible to breathe. I tried to, but I couldn’t get anything down as the air got locked in my throat. I felt light-headed. Sick.

So long. It’d been so long and no one had said a word. I guess I had started to believe no one ever would.

I struggled to draw a breath into my lungs. But the air was gone as the realization of what this stranger was implying seeped into my consciousness.

“You owe me,” he said, like he had the right to even speak to me, and he took a step forward. Confidence dripped from him, that sickening kind that made people choke on it, it was so overbearing and wrong. “Why don’t you come back to my place and I can show you exactly how you can make it up to me?”

Horrified, I felt my mouth drop open in the same second that tears sprang to my eyes, so heavy they blurred my vision of the guy leering at me like I was a nothing, just a plaything to be used up and tossed aside.

Just like Hunter had made me out to be.

Finally something broke, and air raked into my lungs, and I struggled to speak. “D-d-don’t t-t-talk t-t-t-o me. . . .”

He laughed at my expense. “Don’t worry, baby, talking is definitely not what I have in mind.”

I had to get out of here. Escape.

I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing I could disappear, and instead forced my feet to work. I stumbled as I pushed from the wall, an overbearing weight crushing my shoulders.

It hurt. Oh my God, it hurt.

Frantic, I tore through a group of people standing in my way, desperate to keep myself together until I made it home.

“Hey, watch it.”

I didn’t even respond, just propelled myself forward, through the outer campus halls and out onto the street. I ran as fast as my feet could take me, my eyes blinded by tears and my heart broken by shame.

I flew into the house and upstairs. Slamming my door shut behind me, I threw myself on the bed. I buried my face in my pillow.

And I completely fell apart.

Misha

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Darryn rushed to my bed when I lifted my face. I’d been crying for so long my eyes hurt, my entire face puffy and sore and burning.

I didn’t want him to see me like this. “Just go,” I mumbled into my pillow as I turned in the other direction.

This afternoon, he’d texted me what seemed a hundred times, first to solidify our date plans, then with progressive worry when I didn’t return any of his messages.

But how could I face him? Tell him?

All that confidence I’d felt this morning was long forgotten. It had only been a fantasy. Because I’d seen the results of what Hunter had done, had seen it in the way that guy had looked at me back in the hall, as if I meant nothing and I could be used up any way he deemed fit.

How could Darryn see me any differently?

Darryn’s footsteps treaded tentatively across the room, and I could almost feel the force of his breaths as he heaved them from his lungs and out into the darkness of my room. I pressed my face deeper into my pillow, silently begging it to swallow me up.

I couldn’t do this.

The bed dipped with Darryn’s weight, and he placed a soothing hand on my back.

I shivered, wishing I had the strength to push him away. But all the comfort of his touch slipped along my skin, penetrating deep. I squeezed my eyes shut and choked over a sob brought on by the kindness in Darryn’s gesture.

He rubbed me up and down, all these soft little sounds tumbling from his lips. “Shh . . . baby . . . shh . . . it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

I thought I’d cried enough today that I’d used up all my tears. But no. Darryn showing up here only brought a new onslaught of them, these hot, fat tears that poured from my aching eyes, because God, this hurt so bad, Darryn here, making all these promises that seemed so impossible.

Not after today.

“Tell me what happened,” he murmured in encouragement near my ear. His breath felt cold against my skin where it met with the endless streams of fiery tears flooding down my face. He leaned in closer, sweeping his mouth across the wetness, gathering my tears up with his lips.

I shuddered.

Oh God.

I couldn’t handle this, but I wanted it all the same. Wanted him to take care of me. To make it better.

My avenging angel.

Sent to rescue me from all the wrongs of this world.

He kissed me on my neck, his voice so sure as he released it against the shell of my ear. “I’m here now, baby. Nothing can hurt you. I’ve got you.”

Grief shook my chest.

Darryn slowly rolled me onto my back, and I stared up at him staring down at me. He watched me with all his compassion.

My voice was hoarse. “It h-h-hurts,” I tried to get out, my mouth so dry as I forced the admission from my tongue.

It hurts.

For a flash, the hazel of his eyes pulsed with aggression, an imprisoned rage. But his expression was contrary to what flamed in his eyes. The lines edging the set of his grim mouth promised me it didn’t matter. That like he’d promised me earlier, no matter what I had to say to him, it wouldn’t change the way he felt.

But I no longer felt like telling him.

I couldn’t. Not now.

I just needed him to make me feel better, to cover up all the ache.

I gripped him by the back of the neck and pulled him down to me, desperation behind the ferocity of my kiss.

Darryn froze, then made a veiled attempt to push away, but I just pulled him closer. “Please. Make me feel better. Take this away from me. Just for tonight.”

His nose was an inch from mine, his eyes frantic as they roved all over my face, everywhere and nowhere at once. Confusion and fear lined his, like maybe he felt compelled to save me from myself.

From this decision.

But this decision had already been made.

I wanted him to have me. No words could assuage the hurt and humiliation, the shame Hunter had brought on my name.

No one else but Darryn—his touch, his mouth, his body.

I needed it.

“Please,” I whimpered, arching up. My hips met his like a plea. Please.

Agony twisted up his face for the briefest moment, before he succumbed and dropped to his elbows, caging me.

And I knew . . . knew I’d never be free of him.

And I didn’t want to be.

A frenzy lit in him as soon as our bodies aligned, and he rocked against my core. Need spiraled through my stomach, dropping low, throbbing a discordant beat between my thighs. I felt myself grow aroused. Wet. And I wanted to be embarrassed because I thought maybe he could feel it. But with him? I couldn’t. With him I didn’t feel ashamed.

“Oh God,” I moaned, my hips lifting from the bed to meet him, the roughness of the seam of his jeans rubbing against me. “Please.”

Darryn ran his hands down my sides and slipped them under my shirt. His palms were hot and desperate, and I didn’t stop him when he lifted it and slowly pulled it over my head, for the first time allowing him to peel a piece of clothing from my body.

Darryn shifted his weight to his knees, hovering over me, taking all of me in. His eyes dropped from my eyes, to my mouth, before they roamed over the redness that burned my skin.

My fingers were shaking as I dragged them down his back and to the hem of his shirt. I pulled it over his head. Darryn dropped back down, bringing his skin flush against mine. He felt both soft and hard, rippled muscle and strength that eased over me like a downy blanket, sent to comfort and protect.

My whole body sang, the horrors of this afternoon clashing with how safe Darryn made me feel. Trust flowed from my body in waves, as it arched and begged and bucked into his.

“I need to feel you . . . need to feel you everywhere,” I pled, raking my greedy nails down Darryn’s back.

He groaned, his hoarse voice vibrating against my neck. “Fuck, Misha . . . baby . . . God, I need you, too. You don’t know how much.”

His thick erection strained through his jeans, and I rubbed against it, letting him know that I understood, promising my intentions were the same.

I needed him.

All of him.

He rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. He pushed me back so I was straddling his waist. Darryn stared up at me, keeping almost all of his attention on my face, but he kept stealing these glances down my body, at the bra that was still covering up my breasts, at my chest that heaved and my stomach that clenched.

I reached back and flicked open the clasp on my bra, and my head tipped back as I let the straps slide down my arms.

Because I wanted him to see me. All of me. To understand that he was the only one I ever wanted to see me this way. That all of this should have belonged to him and I never should have given it away.

Regret filled up every crevice of my heart, and I wished . . . wished it’d been him, that the first time I’d had sex it hadn’t been all a ploy to bring me to my knees, just a wicked game played by wicked boys.

I wished I’d been cherished.

Loved.

Like I was sure Darryn was loving me now.

Darryn moaned as he grabbed me by the hips, pressing me firmly against him. “Can’t wait to be inside you.”

All that energy fired, pinged across the confines of my room, and clashed in an all-out war with the hurt of this afternoon. Everything felt so heavy and light. Blinding.

I wanted Darryn to take it all away.

I rocked over him, and on a ragged hiss, he gripped me tighter. Darryn pinched his eyes closed as if he’d been tripped, caught somewhere in his own painful thoughts.