Comparison

Tonight had been more chaotic than I would have liked. First, the second body in two days had been found with the same amount of clues as the last—other than the green rose, of course. Then, the fight and the turmoil and exposing of familial secrets that ensued. But now, I'm lost. I'm stuck in my own head thinking about my feelings for Simon.

He was sweet and I had known him for upwards of twenty years, but what Jace had said was buzzing around my skull like an annoying beetle. Simon wasn't the most…romantic, or gentlemanlike, and could never really grasp when I was uncomfortable with things that he ended up doing anyway—including, but not limited to, kissing and touching me at the most inopportune times.

Regardless of what the detective said, did I feel any chemistry with my childhood best friend? If there was, wouldn't it have shown itself by now? Maybe there was and I simply don't recognize it anymore because I got used to it over the years. But if that was the case, then what was I feeling with Jace and why did it feel…good?

I unlocked my door and let it swing open to my untidy apartment. Jace followed behind me with tense arm muscles, but I couldn't tell if it was from being cold without his jacket or if he was stressed. Probably both.

"Sorry, I hadn't gotten a chance to clean," I mumbled, collecting the clothes I had thrown over my couch yesterday. I needed to break that habit if my apartment was going to be a second meeting space for murder investigations.

"It doesn't bother me," he breathed and sat on the end of the couch with his rough palms scrubbing down his face.

When he told me he hadn't slept for two days, I felt horrible—especially since I was the reason for it. I hated that he knew my secret, but I was also relieved to be free of the burden and if anybody had to know about it I was glad it was him. I had lived years in the shadow of my own darkness with nobody to talk to, nobody to tell out of fear of my father being taken from me. The loneliness was worse than the bruises by far.

He didn't judge me for the secret, which was unexpected since he was bound by law. Instead, he held me while I crumbled into a million pieces in front of him. And he didn't take it personally when I threatened him. I was ashamed to admit that I was still feeling the tingle of his lips against my throat when I didn't feel anything against my mouth where Simon had kissed me passionately from outside the car window.

I warily sat on the opposite side of the couch on the chaise and curled into a ball. The last two hours were a strain on my mentality but sleep still evaded me.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulled me from my thoughts. The gold head of hair leaned over the top of the cushion and turned to look at me.

I scoffed lightly. "What am I not thinking about? This entire day has been a harrowing experience."

He nodded in understanding.

"But I'm mostly thinking about Simon." I pinched the hem of Jace's jacket sleeve.

He visibly deflated a bit but masked it just as quickly by shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "About the girlfriend thing?"

I shrugged. "That, and just in general. Am I supposed to be feeling anything at this point?"

He raised a brow in question. "Like, attraction?"

"I guess. Like, how am I supposed to feel when he kisses me?"

"Well, how do you feel when…other people kiss you?" The way he phrased the question seemed simple on the surface, but I had a feeling he was referring to that moment in the woods while also giving me the option to talk about it or not.

I took a deep breath.

Truth be told, my body still tingles when I think about it, which was more often than I'd like to admit. But with Simon, I could never really determine my response. Was I relaxed? Uncomfortable? Neutral? "I've only been kissed by Simon, and I guess you, too. But it all happened so fast, I just don't know." My fingers idly rubbed over my waist where his fingers had gripped me desperately but I quickly removed them, not before his eyes followed the movement and glinted in the low light.

"Would you like a reminder? To compare?" he asked in a whisper.

My eyes widened at the same time a flare of something ignited my insides. "I…Is that okay?"

"Only if you want to, princess," he uttered with a ghost of a smirk.

God, I wanted to. My body was practically screaming. His face was calm but his eyes were silently begging as if he was feeling the same. I swallowed nervously and gave a shallow nod with twisted fingers, hoping this wasn't a bad idea.

He shifted closer onto the next cushion. "Come here," he ordered lowly.

The command itself clawed the breath from my lungs. It wasn't lost on me that I was already feeling different than I did with the tech and I wasn't even being touched yet.

I obeyed, crawling over to the seat beside him and sitting on my knees a mere foot from him. He let his eyes wander over my face, down to my lips, and back up. I flicked my own down to his.

The tension around us was wound tighter than a ball of rubber bands waiting to snap and every second was another rubber band.

A rough hand raised and smoothed up the skin of my neck slowly, making me flinch slightly from habit but I trusted him enough to relax into it. It came up to my jaw where his thumb gently grazed and tugged my bottom lip. Instinctively, my tongue just barely came out to lick the pad.

He swallowed past a deep rumble in his chest, further tightening my core until I felt moisture between my thighs. They squeezed to hide the reaction.

The hand hooked around the back of my neck. "Closer," he murmured so low I almost didn't hear it, but I obeyed once more until our noses brushed against each other and I had to place my hands on his chest to push against the magnetic pull. His eyelids were heavy as he peered under his lashes, but his heartbeat was fluttering excitedly under my fingertips, it took me a moment to realize mine was doing the same.

He was going too slow, I needed him now.

"Just kiss me—" my demand was cut off by his lips finally locking with mine in a gentle kiss that made my nerves scream in victory. My fingers curled into his shirt and pulled him closer.

Our lips went from gentle to desperate in an instant like they had been in the woods, except this time, we were completely alone. My hands released his shirt and laced around his neck while his free hand came up to my thigh, sending more euphoric electric shocks closer to my middle.

My body was working on its own, obviously shoving my brain to the back seat, because the thigh he grasped swung over his lap without my permission for the second time tonight. The rips in the jeans invited his fingers to stroke the flesh there, to which they happily obliged.

The hand around the back of my neck dropped to my other leg to mirror his other—they slowly slid upward in tandem beneath the hem of the jacket until my bare skin was met with warm palms.

God, I needed his hands everywhere all at once.

My hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against the rock hard tent in his jeans, drawing an accidental moan from my panting lungs. He took that as encouragement, squeezing my waist and rocking my hips harder against him in slow strokes with his own groan of pleasure.

I bit his bottom lip, making him growl into my mouth. My hands grew demanding, tugging up the hem of his shirt until he took over, breaking our lips apart only for a half second to rip the fabric over his head before returning his hands beneath the leather jacket. I didn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped as I smoothed my palms down his torso. Ribbed muscles flexed under my fingertips.

A large hand left my skin in exchange for the zipper at my chest. Before I knew it, the jacket was open and chucked into a heap on the floor, revealing my bra bound breasts. Our bodies pressed and slid together as if we could melt into one another.

He flipped us until I was pinned under him against the couch cushions with his body between my legs. I wrapped them around his grinding hips. The pleasure that crashed into me made my lips tear from his and my back arch harder against him with heaving breaths. He took the opportunity to latch his burning lips against the sensitive skin of my neck, slowly trailing down nips of his teeth to my collarbones in waves of shocking pulses.

My fingers tangled into his hair, pressing his mouth harder against my skin, begging to be marked. A bite to the pillowy flesh atop my breast made me cry out in a high moan, he praised my reaction with a deep growl and a squeeze of my backside.

I was close. Moisture had begun soaking through my panties where his length shoved against me in rhythmic thrusts. The precipice was approaching quickly, making my eyes roll and my skin flush with impenetrable heat.

He dug his face into a cup of my bra until he found my peaked nipple—and sucked hard.

"Jace!" The strangled cry broke through my chest as my muscles were finally thrown over the edge into an intense climax that stalled my lungs and bucked my hips in waves of euphoric pleasure. Warmth spread around the inside of my thighs. As I came back down, goosebumps coated my flesh from overwhelming aftershocks.

My vision was hazy and my breathing slowly came back in deep breaths. He propped himself up from my chest with shocked features. My brows stitched together in question while my brain booted back up from its reset.

He swallowed. "Did you just…" he trailed off and glanced down between my thighs. I followed his eyes and flushed a deep red when my blue jeans harbored a sizable wet blotch that turned them a dark navy. I scrambled out from under him to the opposite end of the couch with my arms clutched to my half naked chest.

"Fuck," I hissed in mortification.

"Wait, no, it's ok," he said quickly with panic etching his face and a hand reaching out for me.

"I have to—I'm just—ugh," I stammered and shot up from the couch.

"Clary," he called desperately one last time before I raced to my bedroom door and closed it behind me.

I wanted to cry from humiliation as I leaned against the backside of my door. I hadn't meant to climax, let alone make a huge mess of it in my jeans. Nobody had ever made me come before—I hadn't even had sex before. He didn't even have to touch my pussy before I was a gushing mess beneath him.

With a small flare of self resentment, I chucked off my jeans with my panties and threw them across the room.

We weren't meant to go that far. It was only meant to be a quick kiss to see how I felt about Simon's kiss, but instead I ruined a good pair of pants and almost lost my virginity on my couch. Shouldn't that tell me more of what I needed to know?

Christ, I was a bad person. Apparently I was Simon's girlfriend—

But was I? He didn't exactly ask for my consent, and we only went on one date that ended up being a shitshow. He never asked to be my boyfriend, and I had a strange feeling he only told that to Jace out of spite. Just because he kissed me—mostly to assert dominance over the detective, I noticed—didn't mean he owned me all of a sudden.

Was I just trying to make myself feel better about cumming to a man I barely knew? Possibly, but was I wrong either way?

A knock on my door made me cringe, knowing exactly who stood behind it. "Clary, open the door," his voice was muffled by the layers of wood.

I was surprised he was still here after everything.

I slipped on my short green satin robe and tied it tightly around the waist before cracking open the door. He leaned against the doorframe casually but worry plagued his face as he looked in at mine. His shirt was still off, displaying cut muscles covered by tan skin with several black tattoos littering his torso that I didn't know existed above low hanging jeans. I forced my eyes back up to his.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping closer to the small opening.

I could only bring myself to nod.

"Let me in," he said. I looked at him warily and bit my lip. "Please."

With a deep breath, I took a few steps back and let his hand push open the door before he slipped in and closed it behind him. The action made my heart race—in fear or in excitement, I wasn't sure. I avoided his eyes while I crossed my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt at stimming.

He leaned back against the door, giving me space that I was grateful for. "I think if we talk about it now, you won't be able to overthink about it all night."

"Do we have to?" I whispered. "I think it was pretty straight forward. I'm a horrible person and an even worse friend."

He sighed. "That's exactly what I'm trying to keep you from thinking because you're not either of those things."

"I'm a mess that consistently embarrasses myself. What woman can say she ejaculated all over the inside of her jeans just from dry humping?" My cheeks felt hot as I sat on the edge of my bed with my face in my hands. "God, that was humiliating. I can't even look at you."

His footsteps drew close until he stood in front of me. A warm hand grabbed under my chin to tilt my face up to him. "I'm not so sure many women could say they can ejaculate in general," he mumbled, brushing his thumb along my jaw.

I blanched. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"It should, because I'm having a really fucking hard time keeping myself from making it happen a second time." A quick flick of my eyes to his jeans proved he was telling the truth. It was so tempting to just reach out and pop the button—

I stood and slipped from his hold. "No, we can't do that again. We were only supposed to figure out how I felt about…you know." The thought of saying Simon's name aloud after what just happened felt wrong, like a betrayal.

A dark chuckle echoed through the room. "I'm confident that at this point, we both know I can read you better than even your own father. I wanted to avoid confessing this to you to let you form your own opinion—but do you want to know what I see when you're around Simon? Truly?" His voice was starting to develop an undertone of irritation.

I side eyed him. "So you do see how I react to him."

He sneered at the thought. "Of course I fucking do. Clary, princess, it's clear as crystal that you don't feel it with him. It's hard to watch how tense you get when he's around you, how you find any excuse to distance yourself. Christ, it is painfully obvious how uncomfortable you are when he kisses you, like you can't wait until he's finished and leaves."

He stepped closer even as I stepped back, his torso muscles rolling under his skin in frustration. "Now, you can accuse me of being biased, possessive, jealous, whatever—but you know what else I noticed? I noticed how hard you clung onto me while my mouth was on you. How it was my name on your lips rather than his. I don't see him making you cum into your panties. So, who do you really react to?" He continued forward until my back thumped against a wall and a hand came up to cup the back of my neck possessively.

My hands shook, not from fear of him but from fear of what he was saying. Everything he said was true. I didn't have to admit that Jace was on my mind more than Simon. He already sensed it and I could see it drove him crazy as if he didn't know whether to respect my space or bend me over the nearest piece of furniture.

I was absolutely certain that what we just did would replay through my mind for days along with the tingling that pulsed everywhere he had touched.

"You're so quick to make this all about me as if some of this didn't have to do with your own selfish impulses. Isn't that right, detective?" I challenged.

He smirked but his eyes held a dark lust. "I have been nothing but selfish with you, princess. It's been hard to watch your reactions to me without being able to satisfy you," his thumb tugged on my bottom lip for the second time, "to touch you."

I began to tremble at his words, moisture gathered between my thighs again. I swallowed past a racing heart but a nagging thought tugged at the crevices of my mind.

"No, stop," I shook out. His face dropped slightly. "There's too much you don't know. There's too much that I don't know."

Realistically, I don't know anything about him—not really. Surface facts and behavioral observations, sure, but I knew nothing of his history or where he came from while he essentially knew everything about me. That thought made it hard to allow myself to continue submitting to him like putty in his palms.

He took a step back and raked his fingers through his hair with an exhale that puffed his cheeks. "You're right." He placed a hand on his hip while the other scrubbed down his face.

"I'm sorry if I upset you," I said nervously, twisting my fingers in front of me.

His face contorted in disbelief as he came back to me and gently grasped my arms at my sides. "No, never." I was surprised, I thought I had blue-balled him into getting angry.

I splayed my hands on his hard chest, perhaps a bit intimately like I had caught myself doing a few times recently, but neither of us discouraged it. "Are you still going to stay?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked with hopeful eyes.

"I do," I breathed and gave him a cheeky smile. "As much as it pains my ego to say this, you do make me feel safer."

"Does that mean you'll let me sleep with you in your bed?" he asked with equal playfulness. I gave him a deadpan stare. "For your safety of course, princess. Nothing else."

"Will I be safe sleeping beside you, detective?"

"Until you ask otherwise."

I blushed with an eye roll. "Fine, but only if you keep your hands to yourself." He crossed his hand over his heart then raised it in silent promise. "Good. I need to shower, I'm sure I still have some blood spatter on me somewhere."

He grinned down at me. "Among other things."

"Jace," I hissed and slapped him on his swollen bicep. He tugged me to his chest in an embrace that I fought for a half second out of spite before relaxing against his skin and reveling in the sensation of skin to skin contact. My hair tie was gently pulled from its ponytail where he then raked his fingers through it in an intimate gesture, possibly in an attempt to calm me further.

When I looked up at him, he had his eyes closed from fatigue. I suddenly remembered he hadn't slept. "Get to bed," I whispered and pushed softly against him until the back of his legs hit the side of the mattress.

He chuckled as he sat but kept me between his legs. Tired gold eyes looked up at me, nearly making me crumble. "Shower quick?"

I nodded and turned but he gave my hand a small tug, making me turn back in question.

"Before tonight is over…" he trailed off. I raised an eyebrow and came back between his knees. "Just one more," he finished in a whisper. I was confused about what he was asking, but his eyes fell to my lips as the answer.

My skin prickled nervously, but I leaned down slowly in a caress of soft lips. He pressed harder as if trying to memorize me, and I couldn't help but feel like it would be our last kiss before tomorrow erased all vulnerability we had shown each other tonight. Perhaps that's exactly what it was, what it had to be. We both had a job to do. But I wasn't ashamed to admit I could live like this forever, tucked in his strong arms in our own world.

I broke our lips apart before it could progress, especially with the bed behind him and the nakedness beneath my robe. I wasn't ready for anything more, at least not yet—if it even would be more after tonight.

I doubted it.

He looked at me through half lidded eyes before releasing my hands and letting me make my way to the bathroom to cleanse the creeping feeling that I was betraying my best friend.