Page 20 of Savage

I attempted to lead us down another path of conversation. “You’re not the only one who gets frustrated and angry you know. I’ve had to move away from all my friends and I hardly know anyone here. It’s hard for me too.”

He shot me a pointed look. “My heart bleeds. And so how do you vent?”

Shrugging, I replied, “I don’t. I just deal with it, sort of.”

He snorted rudely. “No, you don’t. You just sit on it, allowing it to fester. Maybe that’s why you’re wound so tight. You don’t allow yourself to offload, ever. And I know you have demons, Wynter, just like me.”

I scratched my chin thoughtfully; he made sense for a change.

“Maybe I do.”

“So, don’t you want to do something about that?”

I rolled my eyes again and Jaxon quirked his head as he removed the rest of the tape.

I watched as he turned his back. The muscles there rippled and I wanted to run my hands over them. Trace the area with my fingertips.

My stepbrother then reached onto the desk in front of him, where he’d placed the tape before twisting back towards me. He held what appeared to be a new roll in his hand.

“Come here,” he beckoned. He said it in a voice that tantalised and teased. A girl would have done anything that voice commanded.

I moved, coming to stand directly in front of him. “Give me your hand,” he instructed, holding his palm out. I placed my fingers into it. Unsure, yet trusting.

My pulse twitched at the contact of our skin. Jaxon’s thumb then caressed the back of my hand before he lowered his gaze, starting to unwind the tape and then gently secured it around my knuckles and hand.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, feeling confused by how calm he was being towards me considering his initial outburst. Like a temporary truce had fallen between us, one that I was more than happy to embrace.

He continued to wind the tape around my hand and then moved towards the other. Once my knuckles were securely taped, I glanced down. “It feels funny.”

“It does at first, come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He then took me by the wrist and pulled me towards the large punching bag.

I smiled softly, my eyes roaming over his determined face.

“I must say, you packed quite a punch the day you slapped me, and so you’re not a total weakling as I suspected. Now you can show me.” He tapped the bag and went around to hold it in place for me.

“Do I just punch it?”

“Yes, just go for it, I’ll correct your technique if needs be,” he explained. He was on a mission; Jaxon was the teacher and I was his pupil.

I drew back my hand and hit out at the bag, Jaxon was watching me through a hooded gaze. “Again,” he ordered, smacking the bag.

After the next punch, he held up his hand, signally for me to stop. I took a step back as he circled the bag and came up behind me. His chest to my back.

My breathing became ragged as I felt his arms coming around me, those strong fingers of his running down past my elbows, caging me between his body and the punching bag. His left hand then fell to my hip and he helped me shape a fist with my right hand, “Tuck your thumb in more,” he suggested against my ear, his lips grazing that area.

I could feel his breath against my shoulder and a hot tide of desire raced through me. The heat from his body was delicious against my backside.

Jaxon lifted his other hand from my hip and tapped a location on the bag for me to aim at, he held the wrist of my fisted hand and guided my hand to that spot.

“Now, you do it, but harder this time.”

I copied what he had just shown me and threw a clean punch at the bag. It swung slightly. “Good, again.”

Jaxon then resumed his position behind the bag and he held it whilst I pummelled it. It was more tiring than it looked as I threw punch after punch but it felt good.

I finally tired, my arms aching and stopped; panting and attempting to get my breath back.

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