Selfish Love

I took care of it all myself. I made the appointment. I got myself there. I told no one and pretended I'd been skipping school that day so I had an alibi. I spent a ton of time thinking up the lie so that no one would be able to question where I'd been.

It didn't end up mattering. Not when I was one of those rare but unlucky women who ended up having a rather nasty infection, so bad that my choice was to either risk dying or admit to my parents what had happened and ask for help.

They were more disgusted with me than they'd ever been in my life. Selfish, they called me, for choosing my life over a smattering of cells. Selfish for being lonely and afraid, for choosing sin over sin, for not facing the consequences of my own actions. For the shame and embarrassment I'd caused them. For never thinking of anyone but myself.

I discovered they'd been nice to me, up until then. All the counsellors and programs and church groups had been the easy solutions. After making the choice I did, they felt I needed the big guns.

So they brought in Daniel.

I couldn't relive how he took me from the girl I was to the one I became. Not without thinking of his voice and the way he managed to squirm into my head. He was a wizard, in a way, a player of mind games, purposeful and hypnotic and charming in the worst possible combination.

And he liked me.

My parents rejoiced about that. It didn't matter that he was too old for me, that at eighteen, I was practically brainwashed into loving him. I was damaged goods, and so the fact thatanyone could want me was good enough for them. It didn't matter that he stole my youth, that he stole my life, that I didn't get the chance to learn who I was because I was under his thumb. He wanted their tainted, baby-murdering daughter for some reason, so they gave me to him.

And I let them.

It took me a while to figure out why he'd wanted me, even though it should have been obvious. Sex was meant to be for one thing and one thing only, which I had been told for years I'd be perfect for since I had those big old child-bearing hips. So people in our church tended to marry young. They do that when sex is considered such a sin, you know?

So for Daniel to be in his thirties and unmarried was strange.

But that was the option he felt he had. That was the choice he made because he'd decided fairly early on that he didn't want kids. And in the church, you didn't admit that you didn't want kids. Instead, he dealt with the side-glances and the whispers about him, even though it killed him to have people think he was anything but perfect.

So when someone brought a little baby-murderer to him for counselling, he thought that marrying her seemed like a pretty good solution to all his problems.

The thing was that I did want kids. I always had. I just didn't want them then. I didn't want them before I'd had a chance to escape from the church and make my own way in life. I wanted to have a family with someone I loved, not someone I married as soon as I was eighteen because I wanted to get laid in a God-approved way.

And Daniel managed to convince me that I loved him.

I have no idea if my husband was a virgin when we got married, though I'd say he probably wasn't. He fucked me a lot. We didn't have sex as a couple. We didn't make love or enjoy each other's bodies or whatever. He would just fuck me. And I thought that meant we were trying to have a baby, but when a few years went by and I hadn't gotten pregnant, I asked him if we should see a doctor or something.

"For what?" he'd asked.

I'd been so confused. "To... to have a baby. I want a baby."

That was the first time he hit me.

Because yes, he was manipulative, and yes, he was horrible, and yes, he'd been emotionally abusive for years already, but he'd never hit me. And I was so shocked, so absolutely stunned when I'd ended up on the floor in front of him with pain shooting through my face that I'd sat there, staring blankly at his shins until he crouched down and took my hand.

"Kelsie, my dear, are you okay?" he'd asked, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Slowly, I looked up and met his eye. "I... what?"

"You fell, my dear. Are you all right?"

I stared at him, then like the pathetic excuse of a human being he'd turned me into, I nodded.

Baylee had been a glorious, wonderful, relieving mistake. I didn't tell Daniel about her until I was months along, long enough that he couldn't make me get rid of her, but he wasn't as angry as I'd thought he would be. Maybe he had resigned himself to it; maybe he was tired of the new whispers and side-glances at church, the rumours about him that he'd hoped would go away when we got married and never quite did. Whatever it was, he accepted that we were going to be parents, though I think he always hoped we would only have to have one.

And when bringing my squalling little turd of a daughter into the world nearly killed me, he got what he hoped for.

"No more babies," I told Jimmy. "Doctor's orders. They tied my tubes right after I gave birth. But I have her. And she was worth all of it."

He'd been silent as I talked, but he had kept his eyes on me the whole time. At no point had he looked away or shifted uncomfortably; he just sat there, listening, dark eyes studying me as I revealed every horrible, awful thing that had happened, the selfish choices I'd made and the consequences I told myself I'd deserved.

The problem was that he remained silent, even when I couldn't think of anything else to say. Desperate for something to do, I grabbed the glass of water and gulped it down, putting it back on a coaster. Still, Jimmy remained silent. When I couldn't take it anymore, I laughed, staring at the empty glass on the coffee table.

"Judging me now?" I asked.

He didn't say anything. He should have, but he didn't. Instead, he took my hand.

I didn't say anything. I should have. I should have very, very clearly said no, but I didn't, so Jimmy pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

There was a lot in that kiss. Sadness and sympathy, though not pity. Not even a little bit of pity, but plenty of that sorrowful anger I knew so well. His arms were steady and strong around me, holding me together in a way that no one really had before, at least not that I could think of in the moment. And his lips... fuck.

They were amazing and it was unfair. It was so unfair.

I indulged a bit. I knew I shouldn't and I knew I was playing with fire, kissing him in Em's living room while her daughter slept down the hall. But on a day when everything in my life had shattered, he was what I needed, and he was there. So I kissed him, and I let myself be comforted by him and his closeness, and I tried to turn my mind off for a heartbeat.

Or two.

Or three.

He touched the side of my face, fingers gently caressing my skin before he stroked my hair. I shivered as he flicked his tongue against my lip, tracing it gently before toying with my lip ring. And when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I indulged for a heartbeat longer, just long enough to feel that warm rush of energy travel through my skin and nerves right down to my bones, and then I put my hand on his chest and pushed gently.

He stopped, moving back just enough that his lips weren't on mine anymore. I could feel his breath against my mouth, his forehead resting against mine as his arms loosened enough that I could pull away if I wanted to.

"You understand now, right?" I whispered. "Why we can't... why I can't take these years from you?"

"You're not taking anything from me," he replied.

It was the most infuriating response I could imagine and I sat back, my face pained.

"I just finished telling you--"

"That has nothing to do with you and me," he said. "Or my age. Or your age."

"Daniel took these years from me," I said. "He convinced me that no one else in the world would ever love me because I was broken and damaged and that I should marry him because he would love me no matter what. I went from being a teenager to being a wife. I didn't get a chance to fucking grow up and look at me now, just fucking... fucked. Just fucking fucked right the fuck up. He stole those years from me and I can't ever get them back and I don't want to do that to anyone else, ever, okay? I don't want to steal these years from you."

Whatever I was expecting him to respond with, it wasn't for him to smile wryly.

"I've been an adult longer than I was ever a kid," he said.

I opened my mouth, then closed it and frowned. He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down.

"By the time I got kicked out and moved in with Em, I wasn't a kid anymore. I was fifteen but it started long before that. When you're worrying about shit like where you're gonna live and if there's gonna be food on the table and--"

He stopped, then shook his head.

"Em got out at a good time. I mean, as good as it could be considering. They got worse after she left. It's not her fault, obviously, but... it wasn't her fault. My dad was--"

And again, he stopped, trying to stifle the anger in his voice. I bit my lip, my hand drawn to his by a force I couldn't control. My fingers brushed the back of his hand and after a moment, he turned his wrist, palm facing up so he could clasp my hand.

"He was shit," he finally said. "Not like Daniel, he wasn't... I dunno, smart enough to be that manipulative or anything. But angry. Lazy. The whole world was out to get him, you know, only in his case it was true because he was just fucking garbage. And my mom should've never been a mom. She was such a fuckin' narcissist. I mean, when you say Daniel convinced you that you fell, I get that. There's shit I remember from when I was a kid that I'm still not sure is real and I'll never fucking know. I don't want to fucking know."

He looked up, eyes hard enough to break. "I was ten when I learned how to pay the utilities. Eleven when I started using my own money to do it because my dad whooped my ass when he realized I was using his credit card every month. I counted down the days to being able to leave and when they finally kicked me out, you wanna know why?"

I didn't as much as I did.

"It was 'cause I skipped school to busk at the corner so we'd have enough money for groceries. And only because I got caught skipping and the school gave them shit since it was like the third time that week. I fought back and my dad nearly killed me. Mom said I had thirty seconds to leave or she'd let him push me off the balcony of the apartment and tell everyone I'd jumped." He paused, not looking at me, his eyes far away. "I think I made it out the door with about three seconds to spare. I'd wrenched my knee trying to get away from him so..."

There were no words. All I could do was squeeze his hand. He squeezed it back, then looked me square in the eye.

"I get why you're concerned, okay? Fuck, I might even agree with you, if I'd had a normal life. But you don't get to turn that part of you off when things get better. I don't get to have those years back. I tried to, sort of, when I thought I was gonna be the next big thing, but all I managed to do was become the same kind of asshole my parents were. 'Cause I don't know how to be normal. All I can do is move forward with what I've got. And I've got it good now. They'd be floored if they could see me now. I got a good job, I've got people I care about... It might not be normal, but it's fucking good."

His hand tightened around mine again, like he was trying to make sure I was paying attention, but I was already entirely captivated by his eyes.

"So you can't steal these years from me, Kels. They've already been gone a long, long time."

It wasn't like that was the perfect answer. It was heartbreaking at best, horrifying at worst. It didn't address so many of the concerns I had about being with him, though that list was growing smaller since Em didn't want to be my friend anymore.

But it was enough. And I was so tired. I was exhausted from fighting, from the constant kicks while I was flat on the ground, the never ending spiral of shit that seemed to be whirlpooling around me. Wasn't I allowed to be selfish? Wasn't I allowed to give in once in a while, to do something for me, to follow what my heart was telling me it needed?

So I gave in.

His lips had consoled me; now it was my turn to kiss away his demons, to hold him in my arms and try to make him understand how very wanted he was. I touched his face, trailed my fingers along his neck, brushed the hair away from his face as he kissed me back, searching for more, and more, and more.

"Promise me something," he murmured, lips brushing against mine as he spoke.

"If it's one I can keep," I replied.

I felt his lips twitch into a smile. "Promise you're kissing me 'cause you want to. Not 'cause you're upset or feel bad for me or--"

I pressed my mouth back to his insistently, absorbing whatever that last fear of his was.

"I promise," I whispered, and it was the absolute truth.

I felt that smile, too, and the way the tension in his shoulders released. I felt the soft sigh of his breath and the tug of his arms, pulling me and guiding me until I was on his lap, legs on either side of his thighs as he kissed me again and again.

For a heartbeat, things felt right in the world, at least in the little space that was occupied by me and Jimmy. His hands wandered along my body, exploring my curves in a purposeful yet luxuriating way. I had a hand on either side of his face, holding it as he touched me and kissed me and comforted me, losing myself in the feel of him, forgetting the pain and heartbreak and stress for a moment.

Just a heartbeat.

A hand ended up beneath my shirt and immediately moved towards my bra. As it cupped my breast, I felt a twitch beneath me, excitement making itself known as he touched me. I couldn't keep myself from shifting, letting that burgeoning bulge press against the junction of my thighs, almost teasing myself as I thought of how good that would feel pressed against something a little more... internal.

He groaned and his bulge grew, as did my need to feel it. He slipped his hand beneath my bra, toying with my nipple piercing before running the pad of his thumb along the hardened nub. It was a sensitive spot, which he apparently knew; need roared through my body and I whimpered against his mouth.

"Kelsie," he breathed.

"I want you, Jimbo," I murmured, and somehow the way his laughter vibrated against me was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard.

It didn't last long. The laughter turned into a throatier noise as I let my fingers trail down his chest and stomach, moving back on his lap just enough that I could get my hands on the button of his jeans. I managed to unbutton it before he guided my hands away so he could lift my shirt over my head. Before I could resume working on his pants, he unhooked my bra, eagerly sliding it down my arms before stopping to look at my breasts with an expression of unwarranted awe.

I waited, amused, until he looked up at me.

"No, no," I said. "Take your time. No rush."

He smirked. "You know how long I've wanted to see your tits?"

"You saw my tits the first time we met."

He shook his head, moving his hand up to my left breast. "I saw the outline of your tits. All I had to go off of was a general size and shape and the fact that I was pretty sure you had pierced nipples. You know how long I spent trying to picture the real thing?"

I raised an eyebrow, shuddering as he passed his thumb over my nipple again. "How close was your imagination?"

He glanced up, a wicked look on his face. "My wildest dreams didn't even come close to how fucking sexy you are."

Oh, was he ever a charmer. But before I could respond with anything, he'd dipped his head forward and taken my nipple into his mouth.

It took everything in me to stifle a moan; my nipples had always been sensitive, but when I'd decided to celebrate my liberation from Daniel by piercing every part of me that I could, they'd become almost impossibly so. I was almost certain with the right touch, I could orgasm just from playing with them.

I never had, but certainly not for lack of trying.

In any case, the sensation of Jimmy's tongue toying with my piercing before sucking my nipple lightly was as close to heaven as I could imagine. His eyes flicked up as I tried to keep quiet, sparkling in a mischievous and adoring way, and before I could lose too much of my mind, I moved my hand back between us so I could work his cock out of his jeans.

He sighed in relief as I released him, warmth brushing against my breast before he went back to playing with my nipple. His cock was rock hard, already throbbing and hot as I wrapped my hand around his shaft. A battle seemed to roar inside of me, part of me dead set on getting his wonderfully thick cock back in my mouth. A second part of me was determined to sit on it as soon as humanly possible so I could feel my pussy stretch around him. And there was a final part of me reluctant to do anything but stroke him so I didn't have to stop him from sucking on my tits.

Fortunately--or, far more accurately, unfortunately--I didn't end up having to decide.

"What the fuck?" came a disgusted voice from behind us, and I almost tore my nipple off as I whirled around to see a furious-looking Em and a stunned-looking Alex standing in the hallway.

And instead of answering, I made the very well thought out decision to belatedly cover my tits with my hands as every fear, worry, and nightmare came to life at once.

"Wait, I got this," Jimmy said, tucking his dick back in his jeans as he stood up. "Em, before you freak out, remember that time you fucked my boss and the guy who ruined my career and they were the same guy?"

"Uh, man, I'm right here," Alex said, but his voice was practically drowned out by the daggers Em was glaring at me.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said. "I have been freaking out trying to get ahold of you after getting a cryptic fucking phone call and for what? To come home and find you fucking my brother?"

"Technically we weren't fucking," Jimmy said, and I was torn between wanting to slap him for being a moron and slap myself for believing he was as mature as he thought he was.

Luckily, Em ignored him. "So what's this about? Payback? Is this why you called, to tell me you're going to hook up with my--Jesus Christ, Kelsie, he's twenty-one."

"Em, calm down for a sec," Jimmy said. "This isn't what--"

"I do not even give a shit what you have to say right now," she snapped.

"Maybe you should at least give Kelsie a second to put her shirt back on," Alex suggested, so level-headed it was almost timid.

"Maybe she shouldn't have taken it off around my brother!" Em shot back.

There was going to be no explaining.

There was going to be no understanding.

And given the shade of red on her face and the anger practically pouring off of her, there was going to be no chance of repairing our friendship.

That was okay. I'd kind of assumed that was the case anyway. It just hurt a little more now that I knew I'd been wrong and there might have been a chance.

Jimmy and I had made every attempt to remain quiet since Leia was sleeping down the hall, which Em pointed out loudly a number of times as she ranted. She managed to hit all the notes: how disgusting this made me, how much of a betrayal this was, how she didn't think I was so petty that I'd pull some bullshit like this but she guessed that it made sense given how ridiculous I'd been about the concert tickets.

And he tried to defend me. His face turned the same shade of red as Em's, but she had the unique position of being both his sister and, at one point, his guardian. That meant an assault on Jimmy triggered the mama-bear response, regardless of his feelings on the matter, and there was no getting through the rage I'd managed to trigger in her.