Page 50 of Savage

Managing to keep myself in check, I lowered myself into one of the other sofas and smiled as Chris took the joint from me and sat down next to Melody. My friend was in the process of making herself a vodka and coke.

And then the real party started. We passed around the marijuana like a peace pipe. Any antagonism that usually existed between Jaxon and me vanished. It was refreshing and I found myself relaxing, the drug also being responsible for that of course. Jaxon occasionally needled me, but most of the conversation around the table was that of normal teenagers / twenty-something people having a chat and I started to unwind.

We cranked the music up, Melody and I dancing at one point. My body felt alive. I even danced for Jaxon, moving my body in front of his seated frame as he watched me, openly enjoying the performance. He even clapped when I’d finished and there was nothing sarcastic about it. Well, not that I could tell through my drug-induced haze.

After a few more joints and however many beers later, we all got the munchies and Chris and Melody (who were now quite touchy-feely) left for the kitchen. Their mission; garlic bread!

I threw myself into the sofa which Jaxon was sitting on and swung my legs over his lap. His hands immediately came to rest over my thighs. It felt so natural, nothing was forced or uncomfortable.

“I must say it’s a relief you didn’t offer to cook,” he began, flicking some ash into a red solo cup which was tucked down the side of the sofa.

I rolled my eyes, pointing out, “I burned popcorn once and now I’m tarred as a shit cook for life?”

He grinned and started running the fingers of his free hand up and down my jean-clad leg. At each touch, I felt a hiss of fire in my veins. My body was craving his as feelings of inappropriate lust filtered into my loins.

“It’s not like you’re any good in the kitchen either,” I informed him tartly. Ha, put that in your pipe and smoke it.

He sniffed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the sofa. “I cook a mean steak actually,” he purred in that gravelly voice of his.

It felt so natural, being sat there together, the banter between us that of two regular people. “Whatever. So, what, I don’t cook. It isn’t necessarily a skill you’re born with.”

Jaxon’s eyes shot open and he gave me a condescending look, but I didn’t take offence. “But you’re a woman?”

I released a pig snort and snatched the spliff from his fingers. “OMG, how sexist are you?” I took a drag and then handed it back, shuffling closer toward him, leaning sideways against the backrest. Jaxon’s fingers skimming across my thigh felt amazing.

His eyes searched my face and his next words were equally annoying. “I’m just saying. If you did cook, you’d be more appealing to the male of the species.”

Grunting and handing him the remains of the joint, I replied, “Only the chauvinistic ones.”

Jaxon stabbed out the rest of the butt in the cup and then twisted his body toward me. This moved his thighs closer to my bottom. “That’s bull. All men want a girl that’s good in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. That’s a fact, it’s how the male mind works. And since you’re experienced in neither. What do you have to offer?”

I pursed my lips before stating, “My brain?” I then laughed. Our conversation was so weird and my limbs suddenly felt heavy. God, I hoped I remembered everything in the morning.

Jaxon held up his hands in mock surrender. “I stand corrected. How sexy. You must drive Dominic wild with pleasure,” he replied in a sarcastic tone.

“You’re such a sod. Can we talk about something else?” His comment about Dominic reminded me of the Paris thing. As the weed had loosened me up, I had messaged Dominic again four times and still had nothing back. It niggled me.

“Like what sunshine?” Jaxon asked, his gaze boring into mine. When he was nice to me, it seriously messed with my head. He just wasn’t good for my blood pressure.

Narrowing my eyes, I leaned back and arched my back which was aching from the unnatural position I was sitting in. “How about Molly? How’s she doing? Did you make it up to her as you promised?” I added the last bit but he didn’t even flinch.

“As far as I know, she’s fine. But—so what, who cares right?”

I wrinkled my nose. That was odd. Had they fought? He spoke like he didn’t give a shit about her. “That’s not very brotherly,” I informed him with a hiccup.

He smiled. “That’s because I don’t feel like her brother.”

The cogs started to whir. Was he about to confess something to me in his stoned state? “But you lived together for years?”

He pushed my legs off his and leaned forward to pick up a beer. “Yes, and she was always a pain in my arse. A bit like you,” Jaxon stated before taking a swig of beer.

Swinging my feet the rest of the way to the floor, I pouted. “Gee, thanks.”

Jaxon turned in his seat and his knees touched mine. We were sitting quite closely.

“Although you’re easier to wind up. Molly takes my shit in her stride more,” he confessed, placing the beer back on the table.

The smell of garlic and baked bread slowly wafted into the room.

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