Blame It On The Pain Episode 36

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🧏 Blame It On The Pain THIRTY SIX:

(Alyssa)

After Jackson paid the admission and we walked into the club, things got weird.

For the first half hour, he refused to make eye contact with me and practically ignored me.

And since neither of us are big drinkers we didn’t spend much time at the bar. Not a whole lot of liquid courage for either of us to rely on.

That only left one thing to do. Dance.

Which Jackson, of course, said he doesn’t do.

With only an hour left of my actual birthday, a night that started out so good, was turning out to be a bust.

Which is why I’m currently on the dance floor with some guy wearing a green mask while smoky air and dark sultry music surround us.

I have no interest in my dancing partner other than dancing but even in the almost pitch black room, I can feel Jackson’s eyes on me the whole time.

Which is odd, because I swear, it seems like every female’s eyes are on him.

And I can’t say that I blame them one bit. If only they got a load of how sxy his face is without the mask…I’m pretty sure they’d faint.

My dancing partner grabs my hi ps and leans in much closer. Through his mask, Jackson’s eyes narrow.

The D.J changes the beat up a little and cues up Meg Myers, Desire.

The guy presses flush against me and starts getting really into it…until he’s suddenly gone and I’m being pressed against a wall instead.

I look up and Jackson’s staring down at me, my former dancing partner long gone.

I’ve never seen Jackson look at me like this before. I don’t know if I should be scared or turned on. I choose the latter.

He leans down, his breath tickling my ear. “I’ve had about as much as I can take, Alyssa. I don’t like watching while some other guy puts his hands all over you.”

Wow, this sounds a lot like jealousy. Against my better judgment, I decide to provoke him. “Why’s that?”

I know exactly what I want. And that’s him. Now, he needs to decide if he wants me once and for all. This hot and cold business is becoming exhausting.

He closes his eyes. I don’t even think he realizes that he’s started swaying to the music. And for someone who claims they don’t dance, he’s awfully good at it.

He raises my hands above my head and slowly grinds himself against me. “I think you know why,” he rasps.

I shake my head and bite my lip. “No. Why don’t you tell me? Or better yet, show me.”

You can cut the sxual tension between us with a knlfe at this point, but I’m putting the ball in his court. He turned me down when it was in mine.

He leans his forehead against mine, links our fingers together and thrusts against me. “I want to be the only one who’s allowed to touch your body like this. I want it to be me you think about at night when you touch yourself. I want it to be my name you’re screaming when I’m making you come. I want you to be mine, because as far as I’m concerned…I’m already yours.”

I’m dizzy with those words. Our lips are so close, we’re almost kssing. And my God, do I need him to kiss me right now.

“I’m yours. Now kss me, Jackson.”

His thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “Everything will change,” he warns.

And he’s right. Everything will change. But I want it to. I want things with him that I’ve never wanted with another person before.

I want to give him every single part of me…even the broken parts.

I take off my mask and toss it, not caring where it lands. “Good.”

It’s not a soft and gentle kss.

It’s a kss that ravages me, consumes me. It’s a kss that claims me…effectively ruining me for anyone else, threatening to haunt me if my lips dare to ever touch another’s.

He’s putting his mark on me with those lips, branding me with the stroke of his tongue and worshiping me with his every breath.

I’ve kssed a lot of guys in my lifetime. But I’ve never been kssed like this before.

He nips my lower lip and I let out a groan. His hands are everywhere- in my hair, moving up my spine, lifting and pulling me closer to him.

I feel his hardness against my stomach and taste the hint of whiskey on his to ngue, his heart beating faster than the speed of light.

We stay kssing for what feels like forever, neither of us daring to ruin the connection we’ve forged by coming up for air…until someone clears their throat around us.

I open my eyes and realize that Jackson has me pinned up against the wall, my dress is bunched around my thlghs and his own mask has slipped off.

“This is a masquerade themed Halloween party. You both have to wear your masks. And stay off the dmned wall,” some big guy in a security t-shirt says gruffly before he walks away.

I unravel my legs from around Jackson’s waist and I know my face is probably the color of a tomato. I’ve never been so happy to be in a dark room.

He cradles my face in his hands. “Do you want to stay? We can if you want to.”

I shake my head and Jackson takes my hand and heads toward the exit. “Wait,” I say. We stop walking and he looks at me. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

He laughs as we walk over to where the bathrooms are, making sure to dodge any security personnel along the way.

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need me,” he says. He bends down and I think he’s going to kss me again, but he ksses my forehead instead.

I turn around but he reaches for my arm. “Hurry up because I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my lips off of you,” he murmurs before he releases me and I enter the bathroom.

For a second, I think I must have walked into the wrong bathroom because I see the back of some guy’s head as he leans over the sink, obviously snorting some coke. I look at the bathroom door and sure enough, it is a women’s bathroom. My bladder doesn’t discriminate, though so I slip past him into one of the stalls and take care of business.

The guy’s still hovering over the sink when I’m done, but I know Jackson’s right outside so I walk to the furthest sink away from him and wash my hands.

It’s only when I see his reflection behind me that I jump.

It’s the last person I ever expected to see here.

TO BE CONTINUED