Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alex
My attention shifts from Angeline, who is still debating on staying or leaving, to the open ocean. I swear I hear Jasmine’s voice calling and playing tag with Jace. He used to tell me about their games of tag. My sister and I even participated in a few of them. Those two took the childhood game to a whole new level. A smile stretches across my lips, thinking of her and the fun we all used to have.
“What are you smiling about? You think this is funny?” Angeline’s voice is thick with jealousy.
“I told you what this was, and what it wasn’t. Don’t get mad at me because you want to change the rules of the game.”
A storm of emotions burns in her eyes. I’m not in the mood to deal with this mierda. “Why are you…” That’s when I stop listening.
Instead, I watch as a slight form emerges from the darkness along the shoreline. From where I’m sitting, I can’t make out who it is, just that the figure has female curves. Mario heads in her direction, fading out to just an outline of a shadow when he reaches her.
She walks a few more steps before Mario blocks her way. He’s one of the pendejos I hate drinking with because he’s always getting out of hand, especially with the ladies. Angeline’s voice is a distant rambling in the background of my thoughts. Mario is still blocking the female’s way, stepping into her. I can tell she’s rejecting his advances, trying to walk around him, but only gaining a few feet each time she attempts to move. She’s tipping her head back, drinking something… a cerveza, maybe?
A moment later, she flicks Mario in the face as she walks past, trying to continue to wherever it is she’s heading. Standing, I push past Angeline, and hear her say, “Where do you think you’re going? I’m talking to you.”
I ignore her and move forward. A sudden urge to get to this girl drives each step, as if we’re magnets. Probably because Mario is getting out of hand, and after she flicked him in the face, I’m afraid of what he’ll do.
I’m almost close enough to make her out; the shape of her body is familiar. My imagination is daring to play an evil trick on me. I’m not about to get my hopes up, thinking it’s who I want. Why would she be out here?
When she’s close enough and the firelight illuminates her face, I see my angel. The breath leaves my body at the sight of her. I catch only a brief glimpse of her face before Mario grabs her arm and yanks her toward him, causing her to cry out in pain.
Instantly, I snap.
Blood rushes through my body as anger fuels my veins. I take off toward them at full speed, not slowing when I collide with Mario and slam my fist into him repeatedly. Jasmine is motionless, stunned by what’s happening. I continue to beat any part of Mario’s face and body that I can get a good hit on. I’m cursing at him in Spanish, telling him I warned them all before not to mess with her. This time, they’ll see the consequences and repercussions of ignoring my orders.
By the time Carlos calls my name and pulls me off, Mario is a bloody pulp, but he’s still moving. I don’t like that he’s moving. How dare he touch my girl.
I’m still angry, so I turn on her, staring her down. “What the hell are you doing out here by yourself, Jasmine?”
“I wanted to be free,” she squeaks, her words slurring. I can tell she’s had too much to drink. “Jace told me to.” She unconsciously rubs her pendant while blaming her brother, causing me to wonder if the voice playing tag in the wind was just my imagination.
My attention returns to Mario. We’re far from finished. “Levántate!” I order him to stand. Standing will hurt like hell, but he has no choice. The puto deserves it, not just because of Jasmine, but because he should never touch a female in that manner.
He refuses to look me in the eye, scared as hell. “Jefe,” he concedes when he tries to stand fully erect, fresh blood still dripping from his beaten face.
“What did I tell you and everyone else about fucking with her?”
“I didn’t know it was your novia, jefe.” His excuse is weak, and he knows it.
“Does it matter?” I ignore the fact that he calls her my girlfriend, even if I like the sound of it. “You never treat a mujer like that. You never put your hands on them.” I’m standing over him, staring him down. He’s watching his feet, shoulders hunched. “Get him cleaned up,” I tell the others. “Carlos, make sure shit stays straight while I talk to Jasmine.”
“Got it, Alex,” he says as he organizes a group to get Mario back to the hotel. He’s going to be hurting for a while.
Turning back to Jasmine, I find she’s moved next to the fire. The clothes she’s wearing are not her usual style. She normally dresses in clothes that cover all of her perky parts, leaving her body an enigma. Tonight, though, she’s wearing shorts that are way above the school’s dress code, a tight shirt that at least covers her decently, and no shoes. However, her shirt is soaking wet and see-through. If you stare hard enough, you can make out the shape of her breasts… not that I’m looking or anything. The words, Aloha, Bitches! written in colorful letters across her chest; the only reason the bare image underneath stays concealed.
I’m about to reach out and touch Jasmine when Angeline steps in front of me. I’d forgotten she was even here, and by the look on her face, she knows exactly that.
“Are you going to finish talking to me?” she asks, as if I owe it to her.
“No,” I tell her simply. I’m done with her drama. I want to be with Jasmine and make sure she’s all right.
“No? NO!” she yells. Man, I’m glad this chick is not my girl. She’d drive me crazy.
“That’s what he said.” Jasmine turns around and starts defending me. Her tough bravado makes me smile. She’s cute, completely plastered, and probably couldn’t beat up a fly, let alone another person.
“Who the fuck are you?” Angeline gets the ghetto stances and gestures going for the makings of a chick fight.
“Come on, now.” I try to step between them, but Jasmine pushes me off to the side with surprising force. I stumble out of the way, caught off balance.
“I’ll take care of this, Alex.” Jasmine steps up to Angeline like a chula in a gang. “I’m Jasmine. And you are…?” She leaves the sentence hanging.
Angeline’s expression changes to shock when she hears Jasmine’s name. The name I called her earlier when we were getting hot and heavy.
She turns to me. “This is who you called me?” She laughs, pissing me off all over again. She doesn’t see it, but she’s nothing compared to Jasmine. She turns back to Jasmine. “I’m Angeline. The girl your novio has been hooking up with the last couple of days.”
Jasmine maintains her cool, but I can see the words hurt her. Not hesitating to correct her, she says, “He’s not my boyfriend. He can do as he pleases.” Her expression informs me she wishes the words weren’t true. The thought of me with other girls is messing with her, and I see it written all over her face.
Angeline steps into Jasmine, so I try one more time to break them up. Jasmine’s not listening, and Angeline tells me to butt out. Before I can come up with a plan to separate the two, Jasmine shocks the shit out of me and everyone else with her next move.
She asks, “Hey, Angeline. What do the five fingers say to the face?” I can see Angeline puzzling it out, caught off guard by the question. Jasmine gives her only a second before she answers for her. “SLAP!” she yells as she slaps the bejesus out of Angeline, hard enough to snap her head sideways.
A laugh burst through my lips as I step in between Jasmine and Angeline, just in time to prevent Jasmine from having her eyes gouged out by Angeline’s cougar claws. Carlos is laughing hysterically as he pulls Angeline away from us. Some of her girlfriends, including the one Carlos was getting with earlier, were yelling at him to let her go.
“Get out of here,” he tells them when he lets her go.
“Kiss my ass, Carlos. You too, Alex,” Angeline says, getting her friends together. Before she leaves, she turns to Jasmine. “You better hope we don’t see you out by yourself somewhere.”
“Whatever,” Jasmine says and turns back to the fire, as if she hasn’t a care in the world.
Carlos and two others are the only ones remaining after the girls, and half the gang leave. They’re sitting around the fire laughing and congratulating Jasmine on the slap. The smile on her face says she’s proud of herself.
“Thanks,” she tells Carlos after the compliment. “I stole the joke from Rick James. He said it on a TV show I watched.”
She turns as I walk next to her, and her expression drops, as if she’s just remembered I’m here. Her eyes light up, like she’s excited to see me, but shadows flicker with guilt.
“Hey.” I sit on a stump close to her, our arms brushing, but she remains where she sits, welcoming the proximity.
“Hi,” she says shyly, as if we haven’t known each other for most of our lives.
Everyone’s bullshitting about what a blast Hawaii’s been so far, and what we should go check out next when Carlos hands Jasmine the blunt that’s being passed around.
I grab it before she can. “I don’t think this is such a good idea for you,” I tell her.
Her eyes grow dark, like a stormy sea. “You’re not my father. You’re not allowed to tell me what to do.” She’s one determined mamacita tonight.
She takes the blunt from me and takes a couple of long, even drags, blowing smoke out of her nose like a professional, then chasing it with whatever she’s drinking from the flask.
A few minutes later, she stands but says nothing. The conversation drops to see what she’s doing. She’s looking toward the water. She couldn’t possibly see it, since the night camouflaging the waves, but she’s watching it with such intensity that I think I’m missing something.
“I’m going down to the water,” she announces, and walks away from the fire.
The rest of us sit on our stumps, watching her walk away. Carlos’s voice makes me jump when he speaks. “You going to go with her, Alex?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“She’s wasted, Carlos. I’m not into doing wasted chicks.” He shrugs and smiles as I get up to follow her. She’s a few feet ahead of me, so I call out to her, “Jasmine, wait up.”
She pauses, waiting for me. When I catch up to her, she falls back into step. She holds the flask up and asks, “Want some?”
I take it from her. “What is it?” I sniff the spout.
She shrugs. “Don’t know, it’s Andrew’s.” She smiles, as if she’s holding a secret.
“Does Andrew know you have this?”
“Yeah, he gave it to me after I kicked his ass.” She giggles hysterically. “I think I’m going to pee my pants.”
Why would Jasmine kick Andrew’s ass or think that she kicked his ass? The next question refuses to remain quiet.
“How was your date with the great and wonderful Andrew?” I hate myself for asking. Hopefully, Jasmine won’t remember this tomorrow.
She makes a face. “He was too handsy for my taste, so I taught him a lesson.”
Her feet hit the ocean and the water sprays up her shins. The smile playing on her lips stretches wider as she tilts her head back and closes her eyes.
My focus is no longer on the water. “What do you mean, he was too handsy for you? Did he make you do something you didn’t want to?” Panic floods my body. Is that why she’s so drunk? Has he done something to her?
I’ll kill him if he touched her.
“No, not really.” She’s digging her toes in the sand, looking up at the stars in the sky. I can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s not being completely honest.
Not knowing is driving me crazy. I need to protect her, or it might already be too late. I step into her line of sight, blocking out the sky. I put my hands on her shoulders and ask softly, “Jasmine, tell me what happened.”
Her stare holds mine for a long time before she speaks. The color of her eyes is so close to the color of the ocean, even at night, they shine like gems. When she finally speaks, her voice is small, scared, and with a hint of desperation.
She recounts for me the night’s events with Andrew, the liquor, and as much as I can’t stand to hear about her with another guy, I listen. As I listen, the more I feel like I am capable of murder. I want to find Andrew right now and strangle him with my bare hands.
When she finishes recapping the night, my hands are in fists at my sides, knuckles no doubt turning white. I’m barely able to stay where I am and not hunt him down to rip his balls out through his throat.
“Are you all right?” I ask her.
She fixes her eyes on me again and smiles, as if she had retold a fairytale, instead of all the awful things her night entailed. “I am now.”
She steps into me, and her smell invades my sinuses; apples mixed with the salt from the ocean, causing me to forget everything around us.
“I worry about you, Jaz,” I whisper when she’s only an inch from my lips.
“I like it when you worry about me.” Her voice is teasing, turning me on.
“Is that right, muñeca?” I’m using my charm, but I’m not sure who’s winning. Her allure is working on me just as well.
“Yeah.”
Her lips are so close to mine, but she refuses to make the first move.
What am I thinking?
I can’t ignore what I want, so I close the remaining distance to her waiting lips.
When they touch, everything in the world melts away; the only person existing is here. I press my lips to hers a few times, slowly, erotically. I know she’s into it when a small whimper escapes her. I let my tongue slide softly against her lower lip, letting her know I want to move things to the next level, waiting for her permission. She gives me the go-ahead when she opens her mouth and finds my tongue with hers.
My entire body is overwhelmed; I’m shaking, holding her in my arms. I’m scared, at peace, elated, and horny as hell. She’s turning me on in ways I’ve never imagined, and all she’s doing is kissing me. After a minute or two—hell, it could have been hours—she pulls back enough to see my face.
“You’re shaking,” she points out.
I smile. This feels so right. I’m more comfortable with Jasmine than I am with myself. “Don’t worry, cariño. I’m perfect.” I try to pull her back to me, but something flashes in her eyes. She’s rethinking our situation.
Instead of letting me kiss her again, she pulls away. I think this is where she’s going to tell me this has all been a huge mistake, and that she can never see me again, but she only turns back to the water and steps in deeper.
“Jasmine, you’ve had too much to drink to be swimming in the ocean.”
She jumps into the next wave and yells, “You better come and save me then, Alex.” She pulls off her shirt before she disappears into another wave. One look is enough to send me in after her.
I jump in, pants included. “Jasmine, I’m serious,” I tell her sternly when I catch up to her.
When I finally make it to her, we’re chest high in waves. Lucky for us, they’re mellow, only bobbing us up and down instead of splashing over our heads. She jumps through the water to me and finds my outstretched hand. I close my fingers around hers and hold on tight; no way am I losing her in this water. Her smile widens the closer I pull her to me. When her bare chest touches my bare chest, a firework explodes inside me. My breathing instantly speeds, my heart bucks in my chest, and then races into overdrive. I wrap my arms around her and hug her tighter, as if the tide will strip her away. Her breasts are pressing tight against my chest, and I trace my fingers up and down her back as she leans her head on my shoulder. I’m content to stand here with her in my arms all night.
I’m letting my mind wander to all the possibilities I know are impossible for us when I notice slight bumps on her back with my fingertips. They’re tiny, but I can feel them. At first, I play off that I haven’t noticed them. When my finger prodding neglects to give me an answer, I pull back from her, searching her eyes for what I seek. She straightens up from my shoulder, a place I never wish her head would leave, to look at me curiously.
“What are these bumps on your back?” I ask.
After the words sink in, her eyes widen in panic. “Nothing,” she says and struggles to pull away from me.
I hang onto her hand and pull her back. “What are they, Jaz?”
“Nothing! Really.” Her words are begging me to forget about it.
I hang onto her, pulling her with me when I climb out of the warm water.
“Don’t lie to me, Jasmine,” I growl at her.
“Please, Alex, stop. Please.” Tears are running down her face as she pleads with me.
I make sure no one is around before we exit the water completely; Jasmine lost her shirt to the sea when she stripped it off. Luckily, mine is still next to the fire somewhere.
When I finish checking our surroundings, partly for my shirt, and partly bracing myself to see her half-naked body, I turn to her. What I see, even though she’s topless, is not her breasts, but the discolored marks that cover her body. My mouth drops open in disbelief. They cover her ribs and stomach, bruises every size.
“Turn around,” I order.
She does, even as tears stream down her face and hiccups to go along with them. When she finishes turning, I’m in shock; I’m enraged. The raised bumps I was feeling on her back look like deep pockmarks, with what appear to be whip marks lying next to each of them. I furrow my brows, not knowing who would have done this to her? Next to each mark are the bruises. There must be more than a dozen. My heart wants to rip out of my chest; it’s constricting and pounding unfamiliarly. I know I want to pulverize whoever did this, but it’s more than that. I hurt because someone did this to her. My heart seizes seeing her like this and not being able to do anything to help her.
My voice is thick with emotion. “Jaz…” I have to swallow the lump in my throat. “Who did this to you?” Looking at the marks is too much, so I pull her to me, where she’s happy to wrap her arms around my midsection and lay her head back on my chest.
She’s still crying when she answers. “I can’t tell you.”
Her words piss me off. “Why?”
“I can’t. Alex. I don’t feel so well.” She’s clinging to me, and I hang on to her just as tight.
“All right. Let me take you back to your room.” I pet her hair down.
“No!” she says, pulling me to her as hard as she can, as if she’s as afraid to let me go as I am of her. “Don’t leave me, please.”
“You want to stay with me?” I offer, knowing it’s not the best idea. We’re both too drunk and high to be making moral decisions.
She nods into my chest.
“Turn around.” She looks at me, puzzled. “Unless you want to go topless with me in front of everyone, I have to get you my shirt.”
She laughs through the rest of her tears. Wiping her face, she turns around, looking over her shoulder. She’s gorgeous, but my eyes are glued to the wounds that litter her back. The sight boils my blood.
I snag my shirt and tell everyone I’m heading back. I pull Carlos aside and give him a job to do before I make it back to the hotel. “I need you to go to my room and make sure Andrew isn’t there. If he is, get rid of him. I don’t give a shit where he stays, it’s just not going to be in my room for the rest of the week. Tell him to have his shit out in twenty minutes.”
“All right. Anything else?”
“Yeah, tell him he’s lucky I don’t beat the living mierda out of him.” Carlos looks at me with questions but says nothing.
“I’m on it, jefe,” Carlos yells at the other members that are still with us, and they head off, running down the beach to our hotel room.
When I return to Jasmine, she’s lost in the stars. Her skin is lustrous against the moon in the sky, and out of all the women I’ve been with, she’s by far the most beautiful. How did I not notice her when we were younger?
“Jaz?”
She turns around with her arms folded across her chest. Our eyes lock and neither of us looks away. She lifts her arms above her head, beckoning me to pull the shirt on for her. I lift it over her head, slipping her arms in the holes, and drag it down, letting my knuckles trace the rivets of her ribs. Her body responds to my touch, shivering, and trailing goosebumps across her skin.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to the room.” I put my arm around her waist and help her walk back.
She giggles halfway there, three sheets to the wind. “I can’t believe this is happening. I mean, is it?” Her words are slurring, more so than earlier.
“What?”
“You, me… this?” She’s talking with her hands, pointing at me, herself, and then twirling her finger in the air, motioning to everything around us.
“Yeah, I think it is, and I know what you mean.”
We reach the hotel well after curfew at about three in the morning. We sneak past the one person at the front desk, and the rest of the place is like a cemetery; quiet and dead.
We reach my room and I pray Carlos took care of Andrew, because if I open this door and find him here, I’ll be glad to show him out… out the window.
The light clicks to green when I slide my card into the key slot and open the door. I enter first, hanging onto Jasmine’s fingers with my own, making sure Andrew’s not here before I let her in completely.
When I see his bed a mess and all of his stuff gone, I know Carlos came through. Where he has moved is not my concern, at least not until I go to find him for what he did to Jasmine.
“Come here, querida.” I pull her against me and kiss her. She sinks into my arms, and I can feel the heaviness of her drunken state. “Let’s get you out of your wet clothes.”
I turn to my dresser and pull out a clean pair of boxers and a wife-beater tank top. She takes them from me with a lazy smile, all she can muster at this point.
“Thanks,” she says.
“You want to change in the bathroom?”
“No,” she says, softly. “I can change here.”
I turn around and let her dress. Yes, I can be a gentleman, even if I want to watch.
When she’s done, she slides her arms around my waist and runs her fingers over my bare chest and stomach, while her chest presses firmly against my back. I take her hands and squeeze them before I turn around to kiss her again. I feel she wouldn’t mind me holding her all night long.
Leading her to the bed, I pull back the covers. I slip her legs under them before I pull them up to her chin. Thoughts of where I’m going to sleep run through my head. There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping in that piece of mierda’s bed, and I don’t expect Jasmine to let me sleep with her. She seems to sense my distress and slides to the opposite side of the bed, inviting me in. I’m still sopping wet, so I grab a pair of briefs and slip out of my wet clothes, pulling the clean ones on.
I turn to find Jasmine watching, my bare backside exposed, before I pull the briefs up and into place. I smile in return and climb into bed with her. I want to keep sex the furthest from my mind. I want to have sex with her, I mean, do I ever, but we’ve both had too much drink and smoke tonight, and when I make love to her, I want her to have all her senses. I want us both to feel and remember every second, and right now, that may not be possible.
So instead, I pull her onto my chest and she snuggles up to me the way I’ve been dreaming of since I laid eyes on her at school. Something changed the moment I saw her. She became more than a childhood friend, and I’m still sorting through those feelings, and nowhere near admitting them aloud to anyone, even myself. Having her here in my arms makes me feel like my dreams could come true. I kiss the top of her head and run my fingers through her hair. After the third pass, I feel a lump near her temple.
I run my fingers over it again and she jumps.
Panic rises again as I pull her hair aside and find a large gash, covered by the way she’s been styling her hair.
“Jasmine,” I whisper, my voice cracking around her name. “Who’s doing this to you?”
I’m not sure if she’s going to answer. She appears asleep. So when she starts to talk, half-asleep, I’m not even sure she realizes what she’s saying. “I’m not supposed to tell. I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she says, confusing me even more.
“What?”
“She said not to talk to you, and I did. It’s my fault.”
“This happened to you because of me?” My heart drops to my stomach.
“No, because I wouldn’t stop talking to you. I tried, really, I did. I tried to date Andrew, but he wasn’t the one I wanted… I just wanted you.” Her eyes flutter open to look at my face. “I know you’ll think I’m being ridiculous, but I’ve known you for so long, and no matter what’s happened to us over the last few years, I still see the same person you were before, and I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Looking into her beautiful blue eyes, my heart stops, and along with it, my breathing. Did I just hear her right? Did she just say she loves me? I can’t say it back, even though on a subconscious level, I feel the words circulating through my veins.
Again, she reads my panic. “I don’t expect you to say it back, or even feel that way toward me. I just wanted you to know.” Her smile melts my insides.
“You still didn’t answer my question, Jaz. Who hurt you?”
She averts her eyes. “My mom.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but I hear it, and I jump when I understand her words. Her next sentence is shaking as tears cling to her lashes. “She warned me the first time.”
“The first time?” I want her to clarify.
“I came to class, and you asked me what happened.” I nod, remembering the cuts. “Margret threw a glass liquor bottle on the floor. It shattered, and she dragged me by the hair through it, and then slapped me across the face to drive her point home.” She reaches up and touches her cheek, remembering.
I’m speechless. Shocked. I knew Margret favored Jace, but beating her daughter, using me as the excuse to do it? Come on. How could she hate Jasmine so much she would hurt her? I look into Jasmine’s eyes to find the answer, “And the next time?”
“Andrew came over after school to drop off my math book. When he left, he said, ‘have fun with Alex,’ or something like that, but he said your name, and that I was going to see you. She’d already warned me once.” She breathes in deep and takes so long to finish, I think she has fallen asleep. “She punched me in the ear.” She points to her discolored ear. “Threw a glass vase and hit me in the head. That’s what the gash is from.” She touches the side of her head tenderly.
“The marks on your back… what are they from?” I’m not sure I can tolerate or hear anymore, but I have to know.
She swallows back her emotions. “She took off her belt…” But then she cracks and starts crying again.
I pull the box of hotel tissues over and hand her one while clicking the pieces together. Her mom hit her with the buckle several times by the looks of things. “Jaz, did your mom hit you with the metal part of the belt?”
“And that’s not the worst part,” she sniffles.
How is that not the worst part?
“She said that if I talked to you again, she’d smother my dad in his sleep. That’s why I’ve been trying to stay away from you. I want to think she wouldn’t, Alex, but she has so much hate for me. I believe she would take him away just because she knows how much I love him. She hates me that much.” She’s shivering in my arm.
“Dammit, Jasmine. You need to tell someone… you should have told me.”
“I can’t. I shouldn’t have told you. Remind me to never drink because I get diarrhea of the mouth.” My strong girl is trying to make a joke.
I smile and push her hair out of her face. If she hadn’t been such a blabbermouth, we might not be here together now. “All right, let’s get some sleep. We can sleep in as long as we want, especially since I don’t have a roommate anymore.” The thought places a permanent smile on my face.
“I thought Andrew was your roommate. What happened to him?” Jasmine looks over at Andrew’s side of the bed, noticing for the first time that it’s empty.
“I took care of it. Believe me, if he stayed in here after you told me what he did, he’d get several bloody noses throughout the day, every day. Let’s just say getting him out of here is me helping him out.” She smiles. Her hair is dangling over me, framing her face. Her eyes are a glassy, bright blue. “Eres hermosa.”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and at that moment, it’s the only thing I’m able to concentrate on.
“What does that mean?” Her voice is seductive. She’s making it extremely hard for me not to take her right here.
“You’re beautiful.”
She leans down, pressing her lips to mine almost desperately. Leaning toward her, I wrap my arms around her lightly, careful not to jostle her injuries. Turning her slowly, I place her underneath me, leaning my body halfway over hers, our lips never parting.
My fingers glide over the curve of her hip, to her waist, and continue along her rib cage; each little divot driving me closer to the edge of insanity. I trace the curve of her breast sensuously with the tips of my fingers, then cup the side in my palm.
Her hands are wandering up and down my back and sides, tickling me when she reaches my midsection. I’m completely aroused being this close to her, breathing in her scent. I’m fighting to maintain control.
When her fingers snake into the waistband of my briefs and slide around to the front, my heart pounds harder. She reaches in, wrapping her hand around my erection, halting my breathing completely. I’m so turned on that I almost release at the feel of her warm skin on mine. The only noise I hear is the quiet moan that crosses my lips against hers. Her smile grows at my reaction.
Some of my senses are returning, slowly, like a broken-down machine coming back online. We shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s impossible to stop touching her while her fingers are gliding across my skin.
Now that I’ve tasted and touched her soft skin, I couldn’t fathom stopping. She’s like a drug; how I resisted her this long is mind-boggling.
Finally, the rational part of my brain reboots, and I pull away. My breathing is heavy and I have to swallow several times before I can form words. “Jasmine,” I whisper in her ear as she trails kisses down my neck.
She ignores me.
“Jasmine,” I repeat. This time she looks at me and I think maybe it was a bad idea to have her look at me. That face could get me to do anything.
She’s beautiful. Her lips are wet and plump from our kissing, her cheeks flushed with anticipation, and her eyes are staring at me with all the trust in the world.
How could I let her trust me?
It’s as if I’ve already let her down. The glassy gaze in those same eyes shows me she’s too drunk to have any kind of physical encounter.
Normally, I would take advantage of a night out drinking with a girl, as long as she knew beforehand what we were getting into. I would never take advantage of a girl, especially Jasmine… I care about her too much.
“We can’t do this, preciosa. We’re both too messed up tonight, and regardless of that, I wouldn’t want it to happen this way. I want both of us to remember every second.” This is extremely hard to express while she’s still handling me. They’re the last words I want coming out of my mouth at this moment.
She stops, but slowly slips her hand from my briefs. “You want to just go to sleep?” Her voice is sweet and silky in the dark room.
“Yeah. Is that cool with you?” It worries me she’ll feel rejected.
“Yeah,” she says, and snuggles up to my side, placing her head on my chest.
“Alex?” I can hear the nervousness in her voice. “I’m a virgin.” She pauses. “I just wanted you to know.”
Relief floods through me. I’m so thankful that I stopped our progress. It needs to be perfect for her; not like this in a hotel room, drunk, after some other jerk tried to have his way with her, and especially after divulging that her mom beats her for talking to me. No, tonight is not the night for such an occasion.
I remain silent. I mean, what do you say to that? My only instinct is to pull her closer. She wraps her legs around me, propping her hip halfway on mine.
“Goodnight, cariño,” I say, with my lips pressed to her hair.
“Night, Allleeexssss…” Jasmine falls asleep, slurring.
Falling asleep is an effortless task with my angel in my arms and the fresh feel of her lips on mine… I’m at peace tonight, for the first time in a long, long time.