His Trouble Maker

Chapter 99

38

JESSICA

There’s a part ofthat thinks this is just a nightmare. That if | dig my nails deep enough into my palm, I'll

wake up in my bed. Back home. Whole. Before the cell. Before Riot. Before any of this.

| keep thinking if | stand still long enough, maybe I'll feel like myself again. Maybe the wind will scrape off

whatever Riot did. Maybe I'll stop flinching at nothing. Maybe Grayson will stop looking atlike I'm breakable.

Or worse-like I'm not.

| crossed a line. Or someone did. Or maybe we all did and now no one wants to say it first. My heat broke. The

fever’'s gone. But everything else-my instincts, my body, the part ofthat still wants to crawl out of my skin-

it’s still here.

Riot touchedlike | belonged to him.

And spart oflet him.

That's what | can’t say out loud.

It wasn’t choice. Not really. But it wasn’t exactly resistance either. It was survival. It was instinct. It was need

warped into something feral and ugly.

“Grayson..."| said, turning around so | could face him. We decided to watch the sunrise earlier after our fight last

night. It was something we should've done and | am so pathetic for saying all of those words to him.

When I look up, he looks so tired. His eyes are red and puffy and he looks like he really hasn't gotten any sleep

ever since he rescued me. There's also a fine line on his forehead now and | wonder how much thinking he does

to keep us alive.

“You look like shit,” | murmur, softer than | mean to.

He huffs out a breath through his nose-half-laugh, half-exhale. “Thanks.”

| step closer, even though my chest tightens when | do. There's still this horrible thing insidethat wants to

run the second he gets too close.

“I didn’t mean it,” | say. My voice cracks a little. “What | said last night.”

Grayson frowns as if the fight still bothers him. “Which part?”

“All of it,” | admit. “Sof it. | don’t know.” | rub my arms. “I'm still not... okay.”

He nods like he already knew that. And | guess he did.

My fingers twitch at my sides, and | hate how | am hesitating now, touching his face. “I keep trying to shake it

off. Wash it out. But it’s still there,” L whisper. “I still feel him sometimes. On my skin. In my head. Like | forgot

how to be clean.”

That's the part that makesbite down on the inside of my cheek. | shouldn't be saying this to Grayson. |

shouldn't be dumping my broken pieces in his hands when he’s already holding so much.

But | want him to know. | need him to know. Because if anyone’s going to look atlike I'm not ruined, it's him

His hand lifts slowly. Carefully. Like he’s afraid ‘ flinch. And maybe i do a little. But | don’t pull away when his

fingers brush the back of my head, his palm cradlingagainst his shoulder

“Which part of you did he touch, Jess?”

My breath catches.

1/3

Tue, 26 Aug

Chapter 99

$ 00063%

His hand curls around my jaw, not rough, not demanding-just... there. Anchoring. Thumb brushing my cheek like

| might disappear if he lets go.

Then-

His lips graze the bridge of my nose, warm and featherlight. A barely-there kiss, like he’s afraid to startle me.

“Here?” he murmurs. His breath is warm. His voice cracked.

He kisses lower, slow, careful, reverent. The slope of my cheek. My temple. My jaw.

“Here?”

| can’t move. | don’t want to. My lungs feel too full and too empty at the stime. Every place he touches

burns-in the best way.

His fingers slide up to my hairline, brushing a few loose strands back, and he kisses just above my eyebrow like

it matters. Like | matter.

My senses go sharp.

| feel the wind shift against my back, cooler now, slipping between the trees. | hear water lapping quietly behind

us, the lake soft and dark and watching. His hands slide down to my hips. “What about here?” he whispers,

kissing the side of my neck. “Or here?”

Tears sting the back of my eyes before | can stop them. My throat tightens, and | shake my head. “I-I'm sorry..”

Grayson pulls back just enough to look at me.

“No,” he says. “I don’t care where he touched you, baby. I will still love you the same.”

I blink, and the tears fall, silent and hot down my cheeks. He just kisses one. Then another. Then my jaw, just

under my ear. His breath fans over my neck.

His hand moves to the small of my back. His touch never strays, never shifts into something else.

“You're not dirty,” he whispers. His lips graze the corner of my mouth, not quite a kiss. “You're not ruined.”

The words breakopen.

| lean in. Just a little. Just enough that my forehead brushes his. My fingers curl into his shirt.

“You're still mine,” he says, and this the kissesfor real.

His lips move over mine like he’s relearning every ridge and curve-soft at first, then rougher as his intention

sharpens. | taste myself-salt and fear and something foreign under his tongue-then | taste him: woodsmoke,

pine, and a raw need that liftsoff my feet.

My hands press into his chest, nails digging through his shirt, sinking in when the movement pullscloser. |

grind my hip against his, and he answers with a bruising press of thigh against thigh, his board-hard length

seekingbeneath my jeans.

He lifts me-arms under my knees, back, pullingflush against him-and carriestoward the cabin door

without breaking the kiss. | wrap my legs around his waist absentmindedly, driven by instinct, by the ache that's

been gnawing atsince the night he saved me.

“Mine,” he murmured against my ear. His fingers moved down my thing and I felt him openingup for him.

“You're mine.”

He thrust two fingers insideand | gasped, my body arching against my will. His pace was slow, almost

teasing, like he was savoring every second. He curled his fingers, hitting a spot that madecry out.

“That's it,” he said, his voice dark and possessive. “Lethear you.”

Grayson'’s free hand tangled in my hair, tilting/my head to the side as his lips found my neck. | moaned, my body

pressing closer to his as he continued to thrust his fingers inside me.

“You're so perfect Jess,” he whispered, his voice rough as he added a third finger, stretchingjust enough to

makewhimper. His lips moved lower, sucking a mark into the curve of my shoulder as his tongue soothed

the sting. “You don’t need to think of anything that would makelove you less.”

2/3

09:41 Tue, 26 Aug 0

Chapter 99

0

M

His thumb pressed harder, circling in tight, quick motions, and I could feel the heat building, spreading through