I unlock the door and slam it behind me. My chest heaves up and down, and tears fall from my eyes.
What am I doing? Why am I doing it? I know it’s bad. I worked so hard to get where I am, and I’m throwing it out the window by flirting with the dark side. I am the light, I am the one who makes peace, yet I am getting wet at the thought of exploring the toxic world of an Outlaw.
FIVE
JILLIAN
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
Groaning.
Head pounding.
Body aching.
I roll over and slam my fist onto the alarm clock until it shuts up.
The sun blazes a trail of heat right across my face, causing me to wince and pull away from it.
Jinx meows? jumping on my bed. I got him when I first moved into my house. He’s a black Persian kitten. I named him Jinx after the cat in my favorite Halloween movie—I love Halloween.
He meows again, wanting breakfast. Well, looking at the clock, lunch.
“All right, all right,” I respond, throwing the blanket off.
My house is small, but it's perfect for the two of us. My bedroom is simple, with shades of purple and gray. My queen bed is made out of recycled barn wood, with a matching dresser. Across from my room is my bathroom, which I hand-decorated in shades of blue.
Stepping out of my room, I pass by my study, which is just a small space that makes up the other side of the living room, before coming across the front door and living room. I grab my mail that the mailman pushed through the front door before heading into the kitchen to get Jinx’s food.
“Bills, and more bills,” I mutter, heading into the kitchen. My kitchen is little, the appliances not top-notch, and the gray granite countertop is chipped in some places. The wooden floor is scuffed bare in some spots, showing the wear from the previous owners. A lot of people would stick their nose up at this place, but I love it. It shows character, tells a story.
“There,” I groan, pouring kibble into a bowl. I grab a box of cereal—actually getting a bowl and milk is too much work—and head back into my room. Sitting on the bed, I stuff my hand down the cereal box, and like lightning, memories from last night strike me. Pulling my hand free of the box, I rub my bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. He kissed me. I had been kissed twice in my whole life before last night. Once on the playground when I was younger—it was a dare. The other on prom night by Mike Maddox, which was sweet and simple. I thought it was perfect until Zeek kissed me last night, and then I realized what a kiss really felt like. It was wet, and warm—sexual. Almost angry. My whole body responded in ways I couldn’t understand. I felt on fire, but didn’t want the burn to subside. I could feel that kiss in my fingertips, my toes. My chest ached, and my lips begged for more. It was exhilarating. But why did he kiss me? Did he think I would have sex with him? Did he think I wouldn’t expose what I saw if he wooed me? Is he attracted to me?
Shaking my head, I grab some cereal and pop it into my mouth. The thought that Zevin DeLuca is attracted to a sheriff is ridiculous. The thought that I might be attracted to him absurd. He’s an Outlaw, selfish and deemed beyond saving. That’s what I was taught, what I was programmed to believe by the best of trainers. Hell, you don’t have to be in law enforcement to see that the Sin City Outlaws, that Zeek, are not the type you can take home to your parents, or could trust around your kitten, for Christ's sake.
I roll my shoulders, trying to push the thoughts of last night and anything Zeek out of my mind. I should get a shower, maybe play with myself. It could help my racing thoughts.
Yeah, right, like that will help with the sexual frustration winding me up like a music box.
I have tried to have an orgasm for years, wanting to experience the addiction of sex, but it just leaves me annoyed and frustrated by the time I give up. I’ve read a lot of women go through life and don’t have orgasms, that’s its perfectly normal to never experience it... I pray I’m just doing something wrong, that Deputy Quick Dick was doing something wrong and I’m not one of those women who will never orgasm.
My cell phone rings, vibrating like crazy on my nightstand. Looking at the caller ID, it's Alessandra. I scowl, and accept the call.
“You picked up!” she answers cheerily.
“You sound shocked,” I reply, crunching on some cereal.
“Well, after everything that happened last night, I figured you would be pissed as hell. I had no idea that would happen, Jillian.”
“I had a pretty good idea it would.” I half-heartedly laugh.
“I’m really sorry. I’m so mad at Bunky for that, he really put us in a bad position. Did you have fun at all though?”
As confusing as I feel this morning, and even with the slight banging in my head, I did have fun last night. It felt good to see how the other side lives, to laugh and run. It was exciting, in a way.
“I did, yeah.” I smile thinking about it.
“That’s all that matters then,” she replies, the tone of her voice giving away that she is smiling big.