Page 90

Needless to say, Jay has ruined me. In his warnings, I know he said I would ruin him, change him. And this might be true. The more insatiable sex we have, the more wild, more human, he becomes. But I never thought I would be reduced to such a primitive beast myself, a craving, lustful, starving creature that can’t get her fill.

We spend four days in that Seaside hotel room.

We don’t venture outside once.

We order room service, but we barely touch our food.

All we touch is each other.

Four days of him being inside me, making me come over and over, taking me every way he can, everywhere he can. The floor, the desk, the shower, the sink, even the balcony late at night when I have to bite down on his shoulder to keep quiet.

And somewhere in the back of my lust-addled mind, I know this isn’t normal. I know that sex isn’t supposed to be this good. I know that the man fucking me is a man in all the right ways, but not quite a man all the same. An immortal beast that’s finally unleashing his deepest, most primal desires.

But I don’t care. The sex has rendered me stupid and ignorant but incomparably happy all the same.

Until the outside world has a way of reaching in.

Jay’s phone rings just as we’re coming, our bodies entwined on top of the covers. My orgasm is ripping me apart and I’m floating so high that reason doesn’t enter my head until I start to come down.

Jay had put his ringer to off.

Then my phone rings.

My ringer is also set to off.

Then the hotel phone rings.

And finally Jay is pulling out of me. It translates to instant hollowness, like I’m being denied a vital part of me. He brushes the hair from my sweaty brow, his sated eyes turning to annoyance. “I have a feeling if we don’t answer, we’re going to get a very unwanted visit,” he says, getting off the bed and striding over to the desk, the morning light from the balcony making him light up like an angel. My eyes are fixed to his large thighs, the taught, round swells of his ass that are blemished with a few bruises of my own doing. I can’t help it. With an ass like that, you have to bite it.

Jay snatches up the phone, clearing his throat. “Hello?” he answers but it still sounds husky, like he’s spent the last few hours moaning and groaning. Which he has.

I can’t hear the conversation but I already know it’s Jacob. There’s not many people who can make a muted phone ring.

Jay doesn’t say anything except “everything is fine” and “yes.” Then he hangs up, keeps his back to me. I momentarily admire his shoulders, made for an Olympic swimmer, before I ask, “What did he say?”

“Said the coast is clear,” he says as he turns around, folding his chiseled arms over his chest, the very chest I like to run my nails down. “We can go back to your home.”

Home. It sounds like a foreign word. This is my home now more than anything.

He’s my home.

My eyes drift down to his cock, still half-hard.

“Ada,” he says imploringly. “We have to go.”

I sigh and flop back dramatically on the bed, my fingers curling around the sheets like it’s second nature. “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here with you. Our cocoon.”

“I’m not taking you home,” he says, coming over and slipping on a pair of boxer briefs.

This has my attention. “What are you talking about?”

“Your mother,” he says to me and images of her crash into my mind. Her in Hell, tortured, begging for help. It’s all it takes to bring me out of the sex-haze and into the very real and very painful reality.

Oh god, I’ve been so heartless. This whole time I’ve been having sex with Jay and not bothering to remember what Pippa said.

“It’s okay,” he says, reading me. “You were handed a painful pill to swallow. They say sex is always used to keep the truth at bay. I get that now. You were trying to protect yourself.”

Protect myself by sleeping with him? “Jay, that’s not why we’ve—”

“I know that too,” he says, pulling on a grey t-shirt. “But it certainly makes things easier. But your mother is still in Hell, she still needs your help.”

I frown at him, the guilt lingering. “What are you saying? You’ve been trying to keep me from this.”

“I know,” he says, reaching down and tossing me the black dress I arrived here with. I honestly haven’t worn any clothes since. “But you’re right. I should have never kept you from it. It wasn’t fair. And now I want to help you get her back.”

I can scarcely believe my ears. “What?”