Page 31 of Wait for Him

I know exactly what it feels like when Jackson fists his fingers in a woman's hair.

The thought makes my stomach roll.

“Yes, just like that. Oh God, I'm going to come.”

She's trying to keep quiet, swallowing the sounds against his neck, but Jackson grips her harder and pulls her against him.

“Come, Lola. Come on my cock.”

He slaps her ass, and she folds around him, arms tightening across his shoulders as he drives up into her.

I should not still be standing here.

I know that.

I know it with every rational part of my brain, but something horrible has happened between my mind and my body. I can't look away because this is Jackson with someone else, and seeing it is the price I have to pay for spending years telling myself that's exactly what I wanted for him.

Someone young.

Someone uncomplicated.

Someone who isn't me.

Her face disappears against his neck as she comes, and Jackson wraps both arms around her while his hips keep moving beneath her.

Then he looks up, and his eyes find mine.

The change in his face is immediate, shock cutting through everything else, but his body is already there. His eyes squeeze shut and his head drops back against the sofa.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckkkk.”

I don't wait for anything else.

Whatever paralysis had me rooted to the floor finally breaks, and I turn so quickly that I nearly lose my footing. I grab my bag from the table on my way out and don't stop until I'm halfway down the hall.

A drop of water hits my hand.

I stare at it stupidly before another follows.

Tears.

I'm fucking crying.

Why am I crying?

“Rose!”

His voice behind me sends panic straight through my chest, and I pick up my pace, practically bolting into the nearest bathroom.

I make it as far as the sink before I have to brace both hands against the marble.

I can't breathe.

What the fuck was that?

Not them. I know what they were doing.

Me.