Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(4)



Bile hit her teeth. She hated this. When she first met Ben, she’d enjoyed it. He’d been kind. Pretending to be, at least. Back then he pretended to care whether she enjoyed sex. Now he’d stopped pretending, stopped caring.

But now other sensations assaulted Miriam. Her skin tingled. Not from Ben, not from pleasure, or even pain. No, this was a tingling of heat, as if her skin was tightening from the presence of a nearby flame. She tried to ignore it, but the sensation of heat was all-pervasive. Ben’s tempo increased as he neared his release, and the pain of his body slamming against her became fierce; as the pain increased, so did the heat coming from somewhere deep within her.

She felt the pain, but with each passing second she felt the heat even more. Heat. Fire. Anger. Disgust.

She felt him quicken, felt his hips pound against hers and hold there as he finished inside her. Then she felt another bolt of disgust and hatred and self-loathing roll through her, accompanied by an explosion of heat. It was as if she was standing too near a campfire now, the heat baking her, washing over her in thick, roiling waves. Ben drew back and pushed in once more, and Miriam felt his seed inside her, and the knowledge that he never thought about protection hit her like a hammer.

She was on birth control, of course, and had been since she realized he’d never bother caring whether she was protected or not. She had herself tested regularly as well, but that was more reactive than anything else and no protection from disease. And now, the anger inside her that Ben just didn’t care, never had and never would, became something more than mere anger. It became rage. White-hot and bitter. The bizarre sensation of heat emanating from within her became hotter as her anger increased, until she was sure she could feel it crisping the skin and hair on her arms. She couldn’t understand how Ben didn’t notice it. He grunted once more, then finally rolled off, turning away from her to his side, already unconscious, snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow. He could fall asleep instantly, anytime, anywhere. She envied him that; she would sometimes lie awake for hours, waiting for sleep to come.

The heat and the anger continued to billow off her, but as she tried to focus on it, she realized it wasn’t just heat, wasn’t just…physical sensation. It was something more, something deeper, as if some circuit in her soul had been tripped, as if the slow buildup of anger and disgust had triggered an explosion inside her.

Miriam sat propped up with the sheet around her chest, wondering about the odd sensation she’d just experienced. Maybe she’d only imagined the physical heat, the feeling of fire crackling inside her.

Eventually she pushed the mystery away and dressed as quietly as she could. Ben was snoring, but he was a light sleeper. As she slipped her shoes on, she noticed a cell phone sitting on the bedside table.

She picked it up, puzzled; this wasn’t Ben’s phone. His was an older-model Blackberry. She knew his phone all too well since he was always on it, sending a text or checking sports scores. He was always complaining about it, too, saying he couldn’t wait to upgrade because it was obsolete. The phone sitting by his bed, however, was brand new, a next-generation iPhone, just released. She checked his pants pockets, but they were empty. No, she thought, the night table is where he always puts his phone. She knew his routine: walk in, keys on the microwave, shoes in the front closet, phone on the bedside table. It never varied, even when he was drunk. She thought back to earlier that evening, visualizing him standing behind the bar, leaning back and tapping on the keys of his Blackberry with one thumb. She searched the kitchen, the dining room table, all the various places he might have left his old phone. Nothing. Just the brand-new phone she knew neither of them could afford.

Miriam shook her head, convinced she must be mistaken. But where was his old phone? He hadn’t left the bar the entire night. There was no way he could have gotten a new phone, especially considering they’d been on the closing shift and all the stores would have been closed hours before. There it was, though, and no rational explanation for it. Glancing at the time, she dismissed it and left his apartment.

She had a long walk back to her small place above the bar, so it was past four in the morning by the time she made it to the now abandoned parking lot beside the bar, empty except for Miriam’s ancient Volvo. She smiled at the rusted gray sedan, remembering she’d lived in it for a long time after her mom had left. It was old and ugly, and had over two hundred thousand miles on it, but it had been her home and her only possession for more than a year. She didn’t drive it much anymore, since she lived above the bar, but she loved the old car.

As she let herself into the apartment above the Taproom, she thought back to what had happened at Ben’s place that night. Something odd, something unexplainable, and just a little frightening.





*





Ben showed up at ten-thirty the next morning, rapping on her screen door. “Miriam! I know you’re awake in there. Lemme in!”

Miriam stood up from the table where she’d been sipping her coffee and trying to wake up. She stretched, trying to delay letting him in. He’d be pissed that she’d left last night. He never understood why she insisted on going home to her own apartment, no matter what time it was. She didn’t know how to explain it, either, which only frustrated him more. Sex was one thing, but sleeping together? That was totally different. The idea of sleeping next to Ben, vulnerable and unconscious…no way.

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