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Page 10


  I grab Jenna’s arms and pull them over her head. I squeeze her wrists together and pound her hard. Her eyes shoot open, and she bites her bottom lip. Her tits bounce viciously, hitting me in the face every so often.

  “Come for me, Jax.”

  I stare into her eyes and release her imprisoned wrists. She wraps her small hands around my neck and pulls me down to her for a kiss. I clutch Jenna’s hips as hard as I can. Lifting her pelvis off of the truck bed, I ram her deep. She is so fucking tight. I grab ahold of her tits and squeeze them hard as my come bursts, flooding her insides. Jenna gasps with pleasure, her pussy convulsions drawing my virile seed deep inside.

  Oh fuck, this is good. I don’t think I’ve ever come as much or as hard in my life before tonight. Jenna is exhausted when I lie down next to her. We hold hands and gaze at the stars with my come dripping down Jenna’s thigh. No words are needed because this is how it works with my girl. I feel content, at peace, and completely whole. Jenna completes me … the way no woman ever has or ever will.

  Chapter Three

  Jenna

  My head rests on Jax’s muscular chest. We should get our clothes on and leave before someone catches us. Something about that thought turns me on. I glance down at Jax’s cock, admiring it. I lick my lips and run my hand over his hard abs. His hand slides down my back and squeezes my ass.

  I sit up and take ahold of his semi-erect shaft.

  “I can’t believe this was inside of me,” I say, still marveling at the size of him. He’s huge, even though now his cock is only semi-hard.

  Jax smirks.

  “Believe it, pretty girl. You’re young, so you stretched just fine. But are you okay, sweetheart? I know it was your first time and all.”

  I nod, mesmerized, as he begins to harden in my hand.

  “That feels good,” he groans, his body beginning to tense again. “But it’s time for us to get back before anyone starts getting suspicious.” Groaning, Jax pushes my hand away reluctantly.

  “Sweetheart, I gotta get you home,” he rumbles, his eyes still glazed with need. “I want to stay out here with you forever, but you know your parents.”

  Oh right, my parents. Or more accurately, he means my dad because Martin Jones is an asshole and then some. Some dads threaten to sit outside with a rifle to protect their daughters, but usually, it’s just a joke. By contrast, Martin Jones is mean and cruel for real.

  So reluctantly, I let go and sit up, scrambling to find my clothes in the dark. Oh, here they are. I pull the dress over my head and reluctantly climb back into the cab of the truck.

  “We’re good, right?” Jax asks me in a low murmur before starting up the car.

  I link my hand with his. Never have I felt so content before, with my body humming at the newfound sensation of being a woman in full.

  “Absolutely,” I murmur. “I love you, Jax.”

  Those blue eyes swing towards mine, blazing with emotion, and his big hand clasps mine harder.

  “I love you, too, Jen,” he growls. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  And with that, we speed down the country road before finally pulling into the circular driveway of my house. It’s dark out, with only the moonlight illuminating the trees, the lawn, and the koi pond my mom keeps off to the side of the house. He reaches over and brushes his thumb over my jaw. As we kiss, fireworks explode in my head. I can still feel his come seeping within me. My pussy is sore, but in a delicious way. His love bites cover my thighs, breasts, knees, and wrists, and even my lips feel puffy. But I don’t care. Every touch of Jax’s fingers, tongue, teeth, and cock had been a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain.

  I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb into his lap. I rub myself against his cock, and it hardens rapidly. The denim of his jeans tickles my center, and I groan. Because Jax tore my panties, I’m bare underneath my dress. I’ve never felt sexier. The friction of his jeans makes me twitch as we make out. I crave his throbbing, ten inches deep inside of me again.

  “What monster have I created?” my boyfriend laughs deep in his throat. Jax chuckles as I continue to rub against him. He folds his lips together and closes his eyes.

  “Jen, don’t,” he says half-heartedly. “If your father catches us, we’re dead.”

  I know he’s right, so I climb out of his lap and sigh, frustrated.

  “You need to rest that sweet pussy of yours, anyway. With what I have planned for it…” he insinuates roughly.

  His words turn me on more as I blush.

  “I better get going. I have to pick Mom and Nia up from the strip club tonight. They’re working double shifts, and I want to make sure they get home safely.”

  I can hear the disgust in his voice. Jax hates his home life. His father drinks too much and has been in and out of his life since birth. As a result, his mom has been forced to start working as a stripper. I suppose she could have been a cleaning lady, or taken shifts at the factory, but evidently, the money from dancing far outpaces a blue collar job. So yeah, Marilyn sleeps all day and works nights as a stripper. If that wasn’t bad enough, Marilyn still needed help with rent and recruited his sister, Nia, to work at the same strip club.

  Jax doesn’t talk about it much, but I know he hates what his family does for a living. Dancing’s not a crime, for sure, but he wants something better and something different. Something legit and respectable. So as a result, my man bides his time. He does his part by working at a lumber yard after school, and for now, it’s okay. He wants to save as much money as possible before getting out of this place, and he wants me to go with him.

  And the time for that is almost here. Jax and I are finishing high school, and soon, we’ll be ready to announce to the world that we’re together. I’ve been sneaking around with the bad boy from across town for a while now, but it’s time that I finally grow some backbone and stand up to my hoity-toity parents. I need to make sure that they know that Jax is in my life for good and that they will either accept him or they’ll lose me.

  “I love you,” I tell him fiercely, squeezing his hand. “It doesn’t matter what your family does for a living. What matters to me is you.”

  He looks over at me and smiles.

  “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

  We kiss, trying to keep it brief, knowing what will happen if we get going again. I hop down from the truck as Jax takes the ripped panties from the seat and holds them up.

  “I love souvenirs,” he winks, shoving them into his jeans.

  I laugh, shaking my head at him. I watch him drive away before heading into the ridiculously giant mansion that is my home. It doesn’t feel like a home, though. It’s cold and standoffish, more like a prison than a welcoming, comforting place to relax.

  Inside, the curtains are always drawn shut. The furniture appears as if no one sits in it—mostly because no one does. Everything we have is too expensive to “lounge” in. That’s what Mama says, anyway.

  The lights are off as I make a beeline for the stairs. Suddenly, the foyer light flicks on. I stop on the third step, part of me wanting to keep going upstairs. The night had been perfect so far, and I don’t want anyone ruining it. My father can destroy my day tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll turn around, and it won’t be Daddy standing there. Maybe it’ll be Bianca, the estate caretaker. She’ll keep my secret for sure. Unfortunately, no such luck. It’s Daddy, waiting for me with a thunderous expression on his face.

  “Where were ya?”

  Daddy’s Southern drawl cuts through me. I turn around, and he looks me over. I’m sure my hair is a mess. I’m sure my entire body screams “I just had sex.”

  “A bunch of us went to the school for one last graduation celebration,” I fib.

  “Jenna, you were with Jax Morrison, weren’t you?”

  “Daddy—”

  “I told you I don’t want you seeing that boy. You’re eighteen now, and you’ve got to keep your head on straight.”

  “I am eighteen, Daddy. I can make up my own mind about people,” I
say, trying to keep my voice even.

  “The hell you can! That boy is nothing but white trash! What kind of life will you have with him?!”

  Daddy steps in front of me, looking like a pugnacious bulldog with his thick neck, ridiculous mustache, and aggressive attitude.

  “I’ll have a life. One filled with love and laughter, which is nothing like what you’ve given me,” I retort.

  A sharp pain hits my cheek, but it’s more the shock of the blow that takes me by surprise than the actual slap itself.

  “What?” I shriek, tears filling my eyes involuntarily. “Why’d you do that?”

  Daddy grabs my already sore wrists as I fight against him. He drags me down the steps.

  “I love Jax!” I scream. “You can’t keep me from him!”

  He grabs me by the throat and shoves me up against the wall.

  “You don’t know what love is, Jenna! He can’t give you the designer shoes and clothes you wear. Or the trips to Europe.”

  I cry as he holds me in place, restraining my arms.

  “I never cared about any of that! You always did! You care how I look—how I make you look! You need me to fit into the perfect mold for your image. I’m sorry, Daddy, but I don’t fit in. I’m not skinny or proper, and I love the boy from the wrong side of the tracks! Deal with it!”

  “I’ll show you how I deal with it!” he roars. And it happens so fast that I’m literally on the floor, seeing stars, before I realize that Daddy has hit me again. This time, blood trickles out of my nose. Shock fills me. I know I should run, but I can’t seem to move. I’m paralyzed with fear and disbelief.

  “I will not have my daughter whoring around with a low-life hick!” he roars, his face beet red as spittle flies from his mouth. “Whore! Slut! Cunt! Ye shall burn in Hell!”

  He comes at me again. I return to my senses and scramble awkwardly for the door, but Daddy grabs my arm violently. He spins me around, and everything goes black for a moment. He’s punched me so hard that my vision blurs. I don’t even see the last blow coming. The pain is unlike anything I ever felt; it’s a screaming white siren blazing across my senses. I fall to the floor as my body goes limp.

  My eyes open woozily, and pain rushes over me again. I reach up to touch my face and wince. It’s swollen. I try to get up but flop back onto something soft. Where am I? The last thing I remembered, my father was beating me as we tussled in the entry foyer.

  But now, I’m lying on my bed, ensconced in my childhood bedroom. My entire body feels bruised, and slowly and painfully, I make my way to the full-length mirror on the wall. I gasp upon seeing my reflection.

  My right eye is almost completely shut. A huge black and blue bruise covers the surface of the eyelid and the surrounding area. My nose doesn’t look broken, but dried blood sits at the edge of my nostril.

  I pull up my dress and see the atrocious bruise blooming along my rib cage. I’m naked from the waist down, and immediately, my mind goes to Jax. I need to call him. I need for him to take me far away. I look for my cell phone, but it’s not in my room. How long have I been knocked out? It looks like the sun is setting. I’ve been asleep for a whole day!

  I start to panic. My breathing is erratic, which kills my side. I need to get out of here. I open my bedroom door, but I don’t know if I can make it downstairs. I try to stay upright but fall down.

  I can hear voices arguing from downstairs.

  “She doesn’t want to see you anymore,” Daddy says.

  “I need to see Jenna!” Jax yells.

  “She’s not here. Leave here, and don’t come back,” my dad threatens.

  “I don’t believe you. Jenna!” he calls for me, his deep voice belligerent and determined.

  “Jax…” I barely whisper before passing out.

  When I come to, I can barely open my eyes. It’s daylight, but the curtains are closed as usual. Immediately, my mind rushes to Jax. He was here! My father beat me so fucking badly that I could barely walk and I had passed out.

  I need to find Jax. I try to get out of bed but fall to the floor again in an ungainly heap. It hurts even to breathe, and clearly, my legs are like noodles. I lie there, my breathing shallow and the pain excruciating.

  The door opens, and Mama comes into the room with Bianca.

  “Jenna,” Mama says as I try to stand up. “Don’t.”

  They help me back into the bed. The immense throbbing in my side knocks the wind out of me.

  “Thank you, Bianca. You can go,” Mama shoots our maid a stern look.

  I look at Bianca’s face as she leaves. She is horrified. Her employer—my father—is a monster.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Mama, Daddy hit—”

  “It’s okay, sugar. Daddy was a little mad, but you’re going to be okay.”

  “Mama, look at me,” I cry, which hurts my swollen face. “Daddy did this to me.” I lift up my dress, revealing my rib cage.

  “Jenna, don’t lie to me. Jax did this.”

  I shake my head vehemently.

  “No, he didn’t! Jax would never hurt me!”

  Mama grabs my wrist and turns it over.

  “What’s this?” she asks. “Or these?” She pushes my thighs apart and points at the bruises there. “I will not have my daughter be the whore of a redneck!”

  “I love him! And it wasn’t Jax! It was Daddy who hit me, not Jax!”

  But my mom won’t listen; her entire being is in denial. Those thin lips are pressed tightly into a line, her expression strained. And suddenly, I realize that Mom is doing this in self-defense. She’s lived her whole life with a monster, and acknowledging what my father is would bring down the house of cards she’s built her life on. I open my mouth to protest again but realize it would be useless.

  “You’re not going to see him again. Bianca will help get you cleaned up. The doctor will be here soon.”

  “Mama, please. I need to see Jax,” I say hysterically.

  She looks at me, her upper lip stiff and unwavering, before she marches out of my bedroom. I try to get up, but I can’t. Every move is agony. I sink back into the mattress, every fiber of my being in pain. But it doesn’t compare to the hurt in my heart. Because my parents have betrayed me, Mom and Dad both, and the knowledge tears my soul apart, solidifying my desire to leave Bourne and begin life anew with my love and my only hope … Jax Morrison.

  Chapter Four

  Jax

  Thank you for the best night of my life. I hope you’re not in too much pain. You left some nasty marks down my back. Haha. I love you!

  I sent that text to Jenna two hours ago. No response. That isn’t like her.

  Jen?

  I send a follow-up text before walking out of the trailer without a word to my father, who is sitting on the couch drinking at eleven o’clock in the morning. The only good thing about having a family like mine is they don’t give a damn where I go and at what time.

  I arrive at work and hope the day is busy enough to distract me from worrying about Jenna. It’s no use. Every thought is doused in Jenna. All I can hear is her sweet voice, and her brown eyes are all I see.

  During my break, I pull out my phone. Relief washes over me upon seeing a new message from Jenna. When I click on the message, however, my heart shatters.

  We’re done. Don’t call or text. Leave me alone.

  I read Jenna’s text message twice, not believing her words the first time. I hurl the phone against my truck, shattering it on impact, as rage and rejection take over my body. I punch the side of the truck three times, hurting my fist more than the vehicle.

  Quickly, my anger dissipates into pure agony. I can’t lose Jenna. She makes everything better for me. She’s my sun—the one person who loves me wholeheartedly. I immediately drum up different reasons why she would break up with me. Only two reasons come to mind: she realizes I can’t provide for her and we’ll never get out of Bourne. Or maybe last night was too much for her. I was too aggressive for her first time
. Between my size and the force I took her virginity with, I had probably scared her.

  The handful of times I’ve had sex, I tend to like it harder and rougher each time. Last night with Jenna was the worst—well, the best—it’s ever been. What was I thinking? I should have been gentler, especially since she was a virgin. I’m an asshole!

  Anger fills me once more. This time, it’s directed at myself. I leave work early and immediately head to the Jones’ estate. I will apologize and make things right with Jenna.

  I love her with everything inside of me, and I would never hurt her intentionally. I’ll make good on my promise and get us out of this fucking town.

  Pulling up to the house, I almost forget to turn off the engine as I quickly hop out of the truck. I ring the doorbell before switching to pounding my fist on the door, too impatient to wait.

  Bianca opens the door. She’s the only person in the house who doesn’t look at me like I’m trash.

  “Hi, Bianca. Is Jenna home?”

  “Yes—”

  “You are not to see my daughter!” Martin Jones comes down the stairs.

  “I think that’s for her to decide.”

  He pushes Bianca away from the door and grabs ahold of the door. He nudges me back a few steps so that I am standing outside of the house. He pulls the door closer to the doorframe so that it’s barely open.

  “You better get off of my property.”

  “Mr. Jones, I—”

  “She doesn’t want to see you anymore,” he interrupts.

  “I need to see Jenna!” I yell, infuriated.

  “She’s not here. Leave here, son, and don’t come back.”

  “I don’t believe you. Jenna!”

  I try to fight my way inside, but he shoves me back. I trip down a step.

  “You think you can treat my daughter like a whore?”

  “I always treat her with respect.”

  “That’s not what she says,” Mr. Jones argues, wiping his crooked fingers across his mustache. “I saw the bruises on her body. I comforted her tears last night when she came home. You are pure white trash, and Jenna sees that now. She doesn’t want your filthy hands on her ever again. She knows what kind of life she’ll have with you, and she doesn’t want any part of it.”

 

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