Edge of Chaos(Love on the Edge #1)(10)

By: Molly E. Lee

It stung. Not enough for me to cry out but enough for me to dig my nails into the couch cushions. He interpreted the scratching of fabric as a go signal and clutched my hips and pushed himself deeper inside.

“Justin,” I whispered.

He moaned in response.

“I’d really like it if I could be on top this time,” I suggested, and not for the first time. Despite my many attempts to take the reins and try another position, he’d never once made love to me face to face, and I thought perhaps I might enjoy it more from another angle.

“This is how I like it. Relax. I’ve got this under control,” he said, his voice shaking by his quick breathing.

I opted for another tactic. I reached behind me and grabbed his thigh, slowing him down. I closed my eyes and tried to control his movements by rocking forward and backward, but his death grip on my hips made it pointless. He quickened his pace within seconds, and I released a breath of frustration. He never let me be in control, not that I knew much more than him, but I believed my body and understood what it wanted. And this wasn’t it.

I breathed deep and let go of my frustration, knowing this would be over in minutes and I could escape to a warm bath―a tradition of mine since we started having sex.

In the movies they never showed the girl jumping into the tub for a good soak after she made love to her hero. Guess they didn’t want to show the reality of how painful sex could be if paired with a selfish lover in bed, and how the only cure is a good length of time under warm water. I wished at least one movie would, to warn girls like me.

He pumped his hips harder and grunted. I sighed in relief when his body relaxed. He pulled out and retreated to the bathroom for a few seconds before returning. Yanking up his pants, he grabbed my underwear off the floor and tossed them at me. I slipped them on gently, not wanting to increase the soreness already throbbing between my thighs.

“I’ve got to go. I told the guys they could have a re-match before work.”

I kept my face even when he mentioned COD again. I hated the video game because it usually won when the choice came to going out with me or staying in and playing it.

“Will I see you Friday after I get off?” I asked. My shift ended at nine—easily early enough to go out on a real date. One that didn’t involve delivery pizza and a marathon Xbox session.

Justin held the door open and paused. “Don’t think so, babe. It’s double XP points, and I’m having the guys over to pull an all-nighter.”

I rolled my eyes. More video game crap.

“You need to study after work anyway, right?”


“Call you later. Enjoy your bath,” he said and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

I cringed. He was well aware of my after-sex habit and why I needed it, but he never asked if there was anything he could do to help prevent it.

And every time I’d tried talking to him about it, his response was the same—there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t able to handle how endowed he was.

I locked my door and filled Hail’s bowl with food. She waddled into the kitchen a few seconds later and inhaled the contents as I scooped the concert tickets off the coffee table to pin them on the fridge.

This was the coolest gift he’d given me in years. In fact, it just topped the geode he’d given me for my twelfth birthday. I’d been a huge rock hound that year—back when I’d found the ground more interesting than the sky—and he’d waited until the very end of the party my mom had thrown me to pull me aside.

I’d followed him to the middle of my driveway.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I want to give you your present. Close your eyes.”

I clenched them shut.

“Okay, open them.”

He held one hand behind his back and the other gripped a small hammer.

My eyebrows rose. “Um, thank you?”

He laughed and brought his other hand around, revealing a speckled gray rock the size of a softball.

I gasped, excitement soaring through me. “Is that what I think it is?”

Justin nodded. He sat the rock on the ground and handed me the hammer.

I gave him a spare glance before I brought it down on top of the rock with as much force as I could muster. It didn’t even crack. My shoulders drooped.

Justin took the hammer from me and let the rock have it.

It cracked like an egg under his strength.

I’d scooped up the pieces and treasured the white crystals sparkling inside.

He’d nailed the present, and over the years I’d often compared him to that rock. Rough on the outside, but so much more underneath. Though, lately, he’d been closer to the sharp points the crystal held as opposed to the beauty.