Page 20 of The Fire Went Wild

No. I will absolutely not be thinking like that.

Jaxon’s eyes burn into me as he snatches the panties out of my hand and tosses them over his shoulder. I wish I could squeeze my legs shut, but he’s currently situated between them. I glare up at him, my face hot. With rage, I tell myself.

I know it’s not just rage.

Don’t be a fucking dumbass, Charlotte.

As if to prove to myself that I do not, in fact, enjoy having this monster bear down on me, I try to squirm away, hiking my dress up in the process. Jaxon keeps his gaze fixed on me as he grips my hips, pinning me to the bed.

“I won’t look,” he says.

“Fuck you.”

Something like hunger flashes across his face, and I suddenly hear what I said. What it implies when he has me pinned beneath him.

Jaxon spreads one hand across my belly, pressing just enough weight to hold me down. I try to wriggle out anyway, kicking my legs up, but he grips my thigh with his other hand, his palm warm against my skin. I bite back the urge to gasp.

“Hold still,” he growls. Then he reaches up under my dress, and I do, because I know if I keep moving he’s going to touch something I’m not sure I want him to touch.

He hooks his fingers over the waistband of my panties, right at the joint of my hip, and pulls it down. I suck in my breath. Because this is happening. Edie’s fucking murderer is undressing me.

He does, however, keep his gaze fixed on mine, his blue eyes burning. I’ll give him that much.

“Is this so hard?” he murmurs, peeling the panties over my hips. He releases my belly, cautiously, and then slides his other hand up under my dress to pull the panties lower over my thighs.

I stare at him, my breath caught in my chest. A strand of his hair has worked out of his ponytail and hangs down to tickle my cheek. I resist the urge to bat it away.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I really, really do not like how those two words send heat flooding between my legs. I just hope he doesn’t notice.

He drags the panties over my knees. Only once they’re free of my skirt does he glance down to pull them off completely. I hardly dare to breathe. To move. I just watch him, half-terrified by what he’s going to do next?—

And half-aroused by what he just did.

Jaxon balls the dirty panties into a ball and shoves them in his pocket.

“What the hell?” I snap.

He gives me an expression that would almost look guilty if I didn’t know better. “I’ll wash them,” he says. “With your other dress.”

Then he grabs the clean panties from his shoulder and kneels in front of me. For a moment, I lay there like this is something I want. Then reality sinks in, how close he is to my foot, and my survival instinct activates with a sudden, pounding rush. I swing my foot up in a big, firm arc—or try to. Jaxon grabs my ankle without even looking.

“And you were behaving so well.” His eyes lock with mine. “I told you, I won’t look.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this at all,” I snap. “I’m not a child. I can dress myself.”

“And yet, when I gave you the opportunity, you didn’t take it.” He smiles darkly, and I hate that I like that smile, that I like the way his hand feels wrapped around my ankle, my leg propped up so the cool air of the room brushes against my bare pussy.

I hate it so much that I try to kick him with my other leg even though I know what’s going to happen, and it does: he grabs that ankle too, then jumps to his feet so he can press himself between my legs again. He leans over me, the loose hair brushing my lips.

“You can’t fight me,” he says softly. “A human woman’s no match for a monster like me.”

Human. My thoughts snag on that word again, the way he wants to delineate between the two of us like we’re different species. Something about that feels more dangerous than anything else.

Including the fact that he called himself a monster.

“Now let me finish this so we can have our dinner.” He steps back and lifts my foot up. This time, I let him, because what choice do I have? He’s a madman. He very likely killed my best friend, even if he claims he didn’t. And I’m far more exposed and vulnerable than I’ve been since I first laid eyes on him in that greasy diner.

Jaxon slips my feet through the clean panties, pushes them up to my thighs. I stare at him the whole time, hardly breathing, trying to ignore the feathery touch of his fingers against my skin. When he reaches my hemline, he raises his eyes to mine and keeps pushing.

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