Shoot

Chapter 13: Get out.

He spins us around so I'm pushed against the island, his hips pinning mine down. His hands slide up the back of my shirt until they reach my bra, and he unhooks it like he's done it a million times before, which he probably has.

Soft. Strong. Forceful. Cigarettes. That's what his lips are like, and I love it. I didn't think I would like it at all, but the taste of the smoke on his tongue makes it better and I'm not sure why.

"The pastas gonna burn," I mumble against his mouth, and he reaches behind himself to move it off of the flame and into a cold part of the stove.

He grabs me by the waist and lifts me, sitting me down on the island and standing between my legs. He leans me back so I'm laying, and continues kissing me. I feel his hands slide up my stomach, and as he reaches the bottom of my bra, I stop him.

"Let's go to my room," I say, and he backs up so I can get off of the island.

We walk upstairs to my room, and at first I think I ruined the moment by making us move, but as soon as we hit the threshold, he grabs my face. His lips push against mine and he pushes me onto the bed. He's over me so I wrap my legs around his body, and my arms around his head. His hands slide up my shirt to my chest, grabbing before moving down to pull off my shirt. I let him, but for some reason he leaves my unhooked bra on, loosely covering me.

He leans up to pull his gray sweatshirt and then white t-shirt off from over his head, and I see those black tattoos by his waistline, and pale marks all over his chest. I only get a quick glance before his face is in front of mind again and we're kissing. I run my hands over his smooth, warm back, and he has his on my upper ribs. Why isn't he grabbing my boobs? He's weird.

He slides one hand to the back of my head in my hair, and makes a fist, gently but effectively pulling my hair. I don't quite understand how pulling hair can turn me on so damn much, but all I know is that I can barely make my lips work. A sigh escapes my lips and I'm immediately embarrassed- I never make noises.

He takes that as queue to go further, and kisses from my neck all the way down my stomach to the waist of my shorts. He starts sliding down the shorts, kissing and biting my stomach while he does so. And then he stops. I have one hand in his hair, gently pulling, and now his forehead is on my stomach while his hot breath fans over my skin.

He stands up and picking up his t-shirt, slips it on, and then his sweatshirt. I pull up my pants and then hook my bra, searching for my shirt on the floor.

"What just happened?" I ask, and Jack puts his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not doing this with you," he says, and I don't get it.

"Why?" I ask, standing up and walking in front of him.

"Because I'm not," Jack says sharply, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Give me a reason at least!" I yell, and when Jack ignores me I shove his chest.

"Because I've only ever fucked girls I've just met and now I've know you for a while and I can't fucking treat you like that!" Jack screams, and I throw my arms in the air in exasperation.

"Why?! Aren't you supposed to be some bad guy with no fucking feelings?! That's what I want! I don't want you to respect me! I don't fucking care!" I punch his chest, and he grabs my fist, yanking me toward him.

"Don't you fucking say that ever again," he says low and harshly, and I feel scared. I've never heard him talk like that. "You don't want my respect?" He asks, letting go of my fist. "Go, bitch, make me some fucking food you worthless piece of fucking trash." He pushes me to the door, and I almost lose my balance. "Did you fucking hear me?! Go!" He screams, and I do because honestly, I'm scared. His eyes don't look so beautiful now. "Get the fuck back here!" He screams, and my hands are shaking.