Hurt Like HELL (new adult contemporary romance) Read Online Free PDF

again.  That time, there was tongue.  A quick flicker from both of us, then a little more, and as each second went by, we were tempted for more. 
    My hands slowly touched Jack’s sides and he put his arms around me.  We had hugged before, plenty of times, but this was a different kind of embrace.  Something with so much more meaning.  And purpose.  And love.
    It was perfect.
    The perfect moment.
    The perfect person.
    The perfect kiss.
    Somehow in the midst of it, our sense of reality shut down.  When I heard the basement door above us open with a thundering boom, I knew instantly it would be too late.
    Jack and I were caught.
    By my father.

~8~
     
    My father came down the stairs like a demon.   I swear I saw him floating.  His eyes were wide and his hands already in fists.  I turned and spread my arms, wanting to protect Jack.  Jack was taller than me, wider than me, and I was no match for my father.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” my father said.  “This is what you’re doing, Theresa?  Trying to fuck up our lives?  Sleeping with the next door trash?”
    Jack pressed his body to mine, wanting to engage my father, but I resisted.  I planted my feet and shook my head.
    “No, it’s not that,” I cried out.  “We’re friends.  We were talking.”
    “You were talking,” my father said.  “I can see it in your eyes.  Fooling around with filth.”
    Jack growled and the tension in the basement had become a terrible fog.  There was no good ending to this story but all I cared about was getting Jack out of the basement.  I’d bear the brunt of all of it.  I’d find a way to make it all right, make it okay.  I’d still see Jack, even if we had to run away together.
    Why hadn’t we run away together yet?
    The idea seemed so logical right then, as my father lifted a fist and started to shake it, addressing Jack.
    “You want to fuck with my daughter?  My life?  What do you want, kid, some money?  You hungry?  Go to a shelter.  Tell your mother to stop shooting herself up…”
    “Stop it!” I yelled. 
    My mouth snapped shut and my father looked at me.
    “What did you just say to me?”
    I shook my head.  My body started to shake.  Jack put his hands to my hips, to hold me – or maybe to throw me to the side, I wasn’t sure – but it certainly didn’t help the situation at all. 
    My father started taking huge breaths.  I used to believe that meant he was trying to calm himself, but it was the opposite.  Breathing like that allowed everything to fester inside, let everything boil over.
    “What did you say?” he yelled.
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-”
    His fist came across my face.  If he would have hit me dead on, he probably would have killed me.  Instead, I felt the hardness of his knuckles crash along my face.  I spun and screamed, reaching for my face.  By the time I looked over my shoulder he was coming at me again, this time with his fist in the air.  He was dead set on punching me in the face.  I looked back at Jack, making sure his face would be the last thing I saw before I died. 
    I watched as Jack’s face twisted and his lip curled.  His eyes went from their pain filled innocent look to ones of rage, desperation, and hatred.  That was his breaking point.  He had just lived it.  Actually seeing my father hurt me was the final piece to the puzzle.  Before I could say a word, Jack’s right fist came at my father with speed and force, hitting him in jaw.  My father’s head snapped and he let out a grunt as blood sprayed from his mouth.  I collapsed to the floor and shuffled back to the wall.  I needed a plan but my mind couldn’t calm down. 
    Jack took a fighting stance, holding both fists up.  He was visibly shaking, but he wasn’t going to back down.  I tried to think about all the times in his life where he had to back down… but not tonight.
    I found strength in my legs and started to push myself back up.
    My father was hunched over,