I mean every single word I say, and Kennedy knows it too. I can see it in her eyes, she believes me. Even if she doesn’t want to believe that I’m changing, that I’m not going anywhere, that I’m in this for the long haul, she sees it.
“Why are you on the floor?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Your couch is comfortable to sit on, but there isn’t enough room for me to lie flat, so I moved to the carpet. It’s fine though, don’t worry about me.” I almost slap myself in the face after I say it. My back is killing me.
“Oh, okay.” She turns around and starts walking back into her bedroom. She only takes one step before twisting back around. “If you swear not to touch me, I’ll let you sleep in my bed with me.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek, so I don’t grin like a fool. “Okay. I swear. No touching, only sleeping.”
“I’m serious, Jackson, touch me, and I’ll murder you in your sleep.”
Her threat makes me smile, and I climb up off the floor. Grabbing my blanket and pillow, I follow her into her room. I watch her climb into the bed and curl up on one side. I get in on the other, making sure there is a good amount of space between us while I get comfortable, stretching my aching limbs. My back is already thanking me for accepting her offer.
She turns off the light, drowning the room into darkness.
“Good night, Kennedy,” I whisper, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders.
“Good night,” she whispers back.
It takes me some time to fall asleep, but when I do, it’s with her floral scent deep in my nose and the warmth of her body close to mine.
30
Kennedy
Everything seems to fall back into place, the only difference is I have a six-foot-two-inch guy that sleeps beside me every night. Jackson has taken up permanent residency as my roommate. I stopped telling him to leave me alone, mainly because it was a waste of my time and annoying since he didn’t listen anyway.
I find my way back into a routine. School, homework, eat, sleep… there is only one thing that’s been missing. Since that night, I haven’t cut myself. It was part of my life for so long. Part of my day, really. Even with me going to therapy, I struggle every day. It was more than a bad habit—it was an addiction. One that I can’t just turn off.
I promised myself and my family that I wouldn’t cut myself again, and I haven’t… but I have been picking at the scabs. It still gives me some of the pain, some of the release I crave. Problem is, now the scabs are healed.
Standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror, I probe at the pink skin where the largest cut was. I press my finger down as hard as I can, but the release never comes. I stand inside the bathroom for a long time, fighting with myself on what to do. I took the razor blades out of the medicine cabinet, but I hid a few under the sink. Maybe I can just make a tiny cut––
“Kennedy,” Jackson’s voice comes through the closed door, startling me. I jerk away from the door, my boobs bouncing as I do. “You okay in there?”
“Y-Yes… ah, I’ll be right out.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been in there forever.” His tone holds an accusation, and I know what he thinks. What’s really fucked up is that I’m mad at him for thinking that I’m in here cutting myself, even though that’s exactly what I was thinking about.
Having the urge to prove to him that I wasn’t, I unlock the door and pull it open without thinking.
“See, I’m fine,” I snap.
His mouth pops open, but no words come out. His eyes go wide as his heated gaze roams my naked body.
“I want sex,” I blurt out, and his gaze snaps back up to mine. I know without a doubt, he wants it too. If the lust in his eyes didn’t give him away, the growing bulge in his pants would.
“Are you sure?” he says, licking his lips like he just ordered a porterhouse steak.
“Yes. I want you to fuck me. Like you did the first time.”
His face falls. “You want me to hurt you?” It’s more of a statement than a question, and I hate that he can read me so well.
I shrug. “Maybe just a little.”
Instead of answering, he grabs my waist, lifts me up, and throws me over his shoulder like a freaking caveman. “What the hell are you doing?”
He just chuckles and carries me to the bedroom, where he deposits me onto my mattress. I watch as he starts taking off his own clothes, enjoying every second of the little show he is giving me. My mouth goes dry while moisture builds between my thighs. I almost forgot what kind of effect Jackson has on me.
“Spread your legs for me,” he orders, his voice deep and raspy.
I do as he says and spread out for him, showing him how much I want this right now, how much I want him. I’m completely exposed. Vulnerable, not only physically but mentally too. I don’t want to admit it to myself or him, but I’ve been depending on him. Every day, I lean on him a little more, even if I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it at all. I’ve been trying to push him away when, in reality, I would be worse off without him.
Crawling onto the bed, his naked body hovers above mine. He’s so close, I could reach out and touch him, and so I do. Lifting my hands, I run my fingertips over his hard chest and the chiseled abs. His jaw pops, and he hisses through his teeth.
He’s enjoying this more than he’s letting on.
“I’ll never miss an opportunity to be inside of you, but I won’t hurt you. Not now or ever again. I know you’re struggling. I know you want to cut and hurt yourself again, but I won’t let that happen. I will make you feel good in a different way… make you forget. Okay?”
I nod my head before the last word even leaves his mouth. I want that so badly… I want him so badly. All I need is one second, one single second of silence, and I can continue going. Lowering himself, he blankets my body with his. I can’t help but moan when his hard erection presses against my center.
“I’ll never get used to how responsive you are to me, soaked and begging for my cock.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck and sucks on the skin, eliciting a moan from deep within my chest out of me.
Balancing himself on one arm, he snakes a hand between my legs, his fingertips graze my folds, and I mewl like a cat in heat. It’s almost embarrassing how badly I want him right now.
Panting against the shell of my ear, he growls, “So wet, you’re like a waterfall, gushing your sweet arousal all over my fingers.”
“I need you,” I murmur, grabbing onto his biceps, sinking my nails into them.
“Fuck, bug.” The arousal, in his words, zings through me. Giving in to my need, he lines himself up at my entrance and slowly pushes in. Lifting my hips, I try to get him to move faster, deeper, but he just shifts with me and continues moving at an agonizingly slow pace.
“Please, Jackson,” I whimper, hoping to win him over.
“I’m going to make this last because I don’t know when you’ll let me do this again,” he murmurs against my skin while sliding inside of me to the hilt.
I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him even closer until there is no space between us. Until his breaths and heartbeat become mine. Until we’re one, encapsulated in time.