Page 3 of Savage

“If you’re doing that to try and make your tits look bigger, you’ve failed,” he jibed with insulting ease. “You don’t have to worry, anything bigger than a B is a waste.” It annoyed me that he knew my cup size and I blamed Daisy for leaving the laundry around.

God, part of me hated this boy. He had an insane fetish for torturing me. If there was anyone who could make you feel insecure in a heartbeat, it was Jaxon. He was heartless, mean, and moody and had no filter—a stain on mankind. He was also an arrogant git. And yes, I admitted to myself that there was that other part of me that fancied the pants off him, despite him being a cock. Such joy.

Jaxon’s comment made me drop my hands to my sides, and his lip quirked. He was amused that his rudeness had hit its intended target. But then I was easy to rile; this guy could upset me with his eyes closed. As far as I was concerned, my attempt at snappy comebacks fell on deaf ears. In the year or so that I had known him, I had yet to score a point with Jaxon. The shoe was never on the other foot; no one could exploit this man; he was like a rock. He had no vulnerabilities.

I silently squirmed on the spot before offering him a strained smile. “Are you done?” I sniffed, lifting a hand to push my wayward locks off my face. My cheeks had heated more at his tits comment and some of the strands were now sticking to my skin.

He flicked his head toward my body and asked, “Is that what you wear to bed? Not exactly the sexiest of outfits.” Jaxon then lowered his arms and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, drawing my attention to his crotch. Not good.

I glanced down with a frown before darting my eyes back to his. Thankfully, I had pulled my robe on over my shorty pyjamas.

“It’s none of your business what I wear to bed, Jaxon,” I pointed out tersely. He took in my expression, displaying a large smile, his perfect white teeth flashing. It wasn’t a genuine smile of course.

Suddenly, my belly released a rumble; it was so loud that he heard it—just my luck.

“Fuck me, someone’s hungry. Why don’t you come downstairs and eat something? The anorexic look is a major turn-off,” Jaxon mocked, his eyes roaming over my body. He couldn’t be more insulting if he tried. The boy was devoid of manners.

My palms started to sweat. “I’m a perfect weight for my height, actually,” I corrected him moodily. I knew it was stupid of me, as Jaxon never lost an argument. Well, apart from when he was fighting with his father, something that had become a daily occurrence. I stayed out of the way, as I hated arguments. It brought back feelings from my past and made me want to hide.

“I’m surprised you don’t blow over in the wind. Not everything you eat needs to be green. You’re the epitome of the weak, pathetic female, Wynter.” That sexy voice of his rumbled out, making me swallow.

“I’m stronger than I look,” I informed him tartly.

He snorted, “Are you fucking kidding me? I could bench press your entire body weight.” Jaxon announced, rubbing his fingers over his lightly stubbled chin as he watched me with a thoughtful expression. “You should come to the base, or join me in the gym; I could help you build up some muscle tone,” he stated arrogantly, acting as though he were suddenly my knight in shining armour. Yeah, well, I was nobody's charity case.

I stared him dead in the eye and proclaimed dryly, “No thank you. That sounds like something nightmares are made of.”

His grin widened as he said, “Which part? Training or spending time with me?”

I ground my teeth together as that tension continued to flow between us. “Both,” I answered flatly. He was suddenly amused, that silver spooned mouth of his smiling. Talk about confusing. There was nothing straightforward about this boy at all. You couldn’t read what he was thinking from one moment to the next; his face was like a blank canvas.

Jaxon took a step back and inhaled. He could probably smell my fear. Thankfully my mother’s cooking filtered between us.

“I can smell bacon. I wonder if your mother managed to cook it without cremating it this time.”

My deluded mother, Daisy, reckoned that Jaxon was just a ‘complex’ person—more like downright fucking difficult. He could be such a nasty bastard, and his comment about her cooking pissed me off. I clenched my fists, my blood starting to boil.

“At least she’s trying, you—ungrateful pig,” I fired out, jamming my hands on my narrow hips.

Jaxon leaned forward. “Oh, I find her very trying,” he volleyed back dismissively, twisting my words.

My stepbrother’s gaze took in my stance, staring down at me as though I were a petulant child who refused to eat her breakfast.

“Pig? That’s not very sisterly. I was joking. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’re way too sensitive.” Was he bollocks joking. Jaxon disliked his latest step-mum as much as the ones that came before her.

I dropped my hands and asked, “Am I? Am I really?” I snapped. My voice came out louder than I expected it to.

“Yes. You’re so uptight. You need to loosen up. I could help you with that too if you like?” Jaxon bragged with a suggestive wink.

My tummy flipped at his offer, but I managed to look disgusted and informed him in a starchy voice, “I don’t think so. Who knows what I might catch?” I always made out that I viewed Jaxon as a walking sexually transmitted disease as I knew it pissed him off; him being such a fitness freak.

His eyes creased further in amusement. “Oh, I’m clean, baby. You can count on that.” He then cocked his head to the side, regarding me as he stroked his thumb along his bottom lip. “I’m not sure I’d manage to get it up though. You’re such a tiny, insipid bit of fluff.”

Fluff, what the hell did that mean?

He hijacked my puzzled silence to get another word in, typical.

“I could make you cum though. One way or another.”

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