F*cked Right: Chapter 6
The party continues on as if nothing happened, but I know what I saw, and I’m still working on picking up my jaw off the floor. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I have never seen Jace with a woman. He never talks about dating or his sex life, and I always just assumed it was because he was more reserved. I liked that he didn’t talk about other women, because honestly, I didn’t wanna hear about someone with him when I couldn’t stop fantasizing about riding his cock while holding his hands down, not allowing him to touch me.
But now it feels like all the pieces have clicked together, and a lot of things make more sense now.
I knew about his jealousy of Finn for a while now. We don’t talk about his family often, but when we do, there is always a small part of him that gets a little bitter. It is subtle. You would only notice if you were looking, but I’ve always suspected there was something deeper there, and it feels like it makes more sense now. Finn has always played the field, being known for fucking multiple women every month. He’s been on the front page of almost every news site with his hand around a new shoulder, that’s a hard act to follow. I can’t imagine being Finn’s brother in a society that glorifies men for having as much sex as possible.
The game continues around the room, and I try to listen, try to tune back into what people are saying, but I can’t listen more than to figure out when I need to drink. I’m stuck on this idea, and although realization and understanding are surging through my body, lust consumes me. I rub my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction. I can feel my nipples pebbling in my shirt, and I do my best to ignore it, to do my best to focus on what is happening, but I can’t.
The idea of being the first woman to slide my pussy along his cock, finally allowing him to feel what it is like to be inside, makes heat rush between my legs, demanding my attention. The idea of him begging, pleading for it even, fuck. I can’t even think with that floating around my head.
I have always wanted to fuck Jace. There was always something about him that makes my skin prick, but the idea of him being desperate to finally feel what it is like to be inside of a cunt makes my entire body light up.
I can feel my face flushing, and I don’t care. I can’t get the idea of being the first person to fuck Jace Declan out of my mind. Putting his cock on my tongue, running it up the length, letting him feel the back of my throat, maybe even letting him cum in my mouth but making him beg for it first.
Shit, I need to stop thinking about this.
We are friends. We have always been friends. I don’t want to cross this line with him, especially after the stunt in the hallway. It is too likely to ruin the friendship we have. I don’t want to lose him, and it isn’t worth it just to hear him whisper my name, pleading with me to finally make him feel good…right?
Even as I try to talk myself out of it, I can’t even convince myself. It feels like a lie that I’m telling myself. I have never wanted someone as much as I want him right now. I have never been this wound up, desperate for someone to just fucking touch me, and part of me thinks that it would be worth it. It would be worth it to say fuck it and risk it all but a small drop of doubt stops me. I feel like I’m teetering right between both decisions, not knowing which way to lean.
The party wraps up slowly, too slow for my liking. My head feels jumbled, and I just want to clear the air with Jace. I want to get everything out, once and for all, but Jace seems to have different plans. After the incident in the hallway, I didn’t want to get drunk. I knew I would say something I didn’t want to say, but Jace seems to have other plans. He looks at me with pain and lust and need in his eyes, and then takes a shot as if his thoughts are too much to handle. He stares at my body like it owns him like it’s consuming his every thought. I stare back, willing him to understand that I feel it too, that I feel this desperate and primal urge to be around him, to be consumed by him, but he never looks at me long enough to see it. He isn’t completely drunk, teetering right on the edge, but he is drunk enough that I know we won’t have an honest conversation tonight.
“Hey, you guys just want to crash in the guest rooms? It’s late, and you probably shouldn’t drive,” Emma mutters next to me, her voice thick with exhaustion and alcohol. Her eyes dart between Jace and me, waiting for an answer. I look at Jace, not really caring what we do. He takes a second to answer, probably trying to process his thoughts with six shots of Grey Goose running through his bloodstream.
“Uh,” Jace mutters, looking at me, looking for an answer. I shrug. At this point, I just want to go to bed and forget tonight ever happened. “Yeah, that’s fine,” he says, his voice tired. People mill out of the house slowly, receiving half-hearted goodbyes when they do, until it is just Jace and me, and Emma and Finn in the house.
We help Finn and Emma clean the place up. It would be easier to just get it done now. Even though Finn is as rich as he is, he isn’t above a red solo cup, and right now they litter his kitchen table and living room floor. Everyone’s exhaustion seeps into the room, making just as much of a mess as the party did.
It doesn’t take long until the entertainment room looks normal again, and I stifle a yawn while I look at Jace for confirmation that we can go to bed. He nods at me, and we start making our way to the guest rooms. Emma gives us directions to the guest rooms, running and grabbing me a set of her pajamas to sleep in.
The hallway off the kitchen leads to the bedrooms, but it is long, so Jace and I walk side by side, silently. The silence feels like it is eating me up, the walls caving in on us, pushing us closer together and making it harder to breathe.
I’m so aware of his presence, especially with his body right next to mine, his arm pressed against my skin. I can feel the heat coming off of him, making my entire body feel warm, feel needy.
I imagine, just for a second, what would happen if I slipped into his bedroom. I imagine how he would run his hands down my body, desperate for me to finally show him what it is like to a fuck a woman. I would take control the first time, showing him what I want and what I need, but the second time, I would let him take me any way he wants. I would let him appreciate my body the way he wants to, the way his eyes have been begging me to finally let him.
I try to push the thoughts away as we reach two doors next to each other –our rooms for the night – but the thoughts stubbornly stay at the front of my mind. I don’t know where he is at, but I know where I’m at. I want him. I’ve been waiting for him to make a move for a while, desperate for him to confess how he feels, but maybe I should stop waiting. Maybe he needs me to take control instead.
“Night,” Jace mutters, barely looking me in the eye, and opening his door. He turns to leave, and the urge to say something takes over my body. My entire world has been flipped on its head today. My emotions are running wild. I want to escape to my room, I want to sleep it off, but more than that, I want to talk to my best friend.
“Hey,” I say suddenly, grabbing his arm lightly, knowing I will regret it if I don’t say something. Sparks shoot down my hand instantly and my entire body pulses. I watch Jace flinch, his face looking pained by my touch. “Are we okay?” I ask, my voice sounding small, too small for my liking, but I don’t care.
He turns to me, his face morphing into every emotion, but I can’t read them fully. His eyes glaze over my body, seeming to take in every inch, soaking me in completely. I feel my heart rate increase, not knowing what to make of his hesitation.
He sighs, seeming to come to terms with something. “No, we aren’t okay,” he mutters, and my stomach drops, completely falling through the floor. I look at him with confusion, not knowing what he even means. I never wanted to lose my best friend during this, and the thought that I might have makes my heart hurt.
“Why not?” I ask, not knowing how to say all of the things I want to, the moment feeling too big, but knowing I need answers.
“I know what you saw, Callie,” he mutters, his voice coming out with a hint of disgust, his lip curling as he speaks, as if he is ashamed of himself. “I’m not good enough for you,” he whispers quietly enough that I barely hear him. The words hang in the air, soaking up all of the oxygen in the hallway, consuming me.
“That’s not true,” I say, shaking my head, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to fix this, but knowing that he is wrong. I just don’t know how to get him to believe that.
“It is,” he confirms, looking at me with determination in his eyes. “We can’t be together, Callie, no matter how often you look at me with those fucking eyes. No matter how often I imagine what you would feel like underneath me, claiming me like you own me,” he says, and I feel goosebumps trail down my arms, desperate to play out his wildest fantasies but knowing now isn’t the time to be thinking like this.
I open my mouth to speak, to fight against what he is saying, but he holds his hand up, shutting me down. I close my mouth and wait for him to speak again, already knowing I’m not going to like what he has to say. “I don’t think I could just have you for the night, Callie. You are completely consuming,” he says while letting out a breath as if he is finally telling the truth. “It won’t work, and you know it. I can’t lose you as a friend, so please, please, just let this go,” he pleads, looking at me with such desperation in his gaze that I have no words. I feel the fight inside of me fizzle, wanting to protect him and this friendship more than make my point.
I nod, feeling defeated. “Okay,” I mutter, my gaze landing on the floor, not wanting to look at him right now.
He leans forward, the heat of his body washing over me. My breath hitches, my entire being responding to him, wanting him. But instead of satisfying me, he plants a kiss on my forehead before moving away from me and entering his room for the night.
I hear his door click shut, his presence gone from the hallway, before taking a staggered breath, not knowing what to make out of this night, not knowing how to prove that he is wrong about us, that he is wrong about himself.